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innieandsungielover · 4 months

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A/N: This is my first ever fic that I'm posting on this account, or on skz in general, so I hope you guys like it! My inbox is open, so hit me up ig?

Pairing: Bully-ish!Hyunjin x afab!Reader (enemies to lovers)

18+ minors dni!!!

CW: Unprotected sex, oral (fem! receiving), cum eating, fucking in a public area, but no one comes inside!

WC: 3.3k

Love is a fickle thing, it always starts with an infatuation. You constantly think about them, yearn for them, cry for them. Surround yourself with the things they like in hopes of finding something in common.

You never felt you could find this sense of attraction. You watched as people fell in and out of love, but for you, it was just a figment of your imagination.

There was only one time you were close enough to “love” someone, but instead of the feeling of contentment, it was one of hatred. You were infatuated with him, but not in the way that most would be, you could only see the negative, blinded by hatred for the man in front of you.

He was in your art class, while you worked with clay pieces, he worked with watercolors. Everyone was in awe of his work, especially your professor.

There were always subtle tones of love in every one of his paintings. It was his main emotion, his main drive, and it was truly beautiful.

The first time you ever saw one of his paintings was when you accidentally stumbled upon it, it being left in the classroom to dry as he went to go get coffee.

You were working on one of your structures, an entangled face that showed a range of emotions. It was something that you wanted to achieve to show the complexity of the human mind, of emotions, but you ended up getting distracted by his painting.

You stood in front of it for what felt like hours, looking over each brush stroke, each blend of color, it was beautiful. You hadn’t realized you were crying, a few tears wetting your cheek until Hyunjin was in front of you holding out a tissue.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry” you tripped over your words as you took the tissues from his hand, thanking him. “It’s no problem, I’m actually very grateful”

“And why is that?” you asked, dabbing the tissue at your tear ducts.“My work has never brought someone to tears” he grinned, taking a sip of his iced americano, the condensation of the drink ran down his cup like your tears just moments prior.

“I don’t know how it hasn’t, the way you depict love is truly extraordinary, I’ve yet to see anything like it before. It isn’t even your form of painting, nor the medium, but the way you can feel the emotion pouring through the artist into their art is magnificent”

“Such high praise from the teacher’s pet, what did I do to deserve this?” he chuckled, sitting back at his easel, playing with the brushes in the palm of his hand.

“I’m not the teacher's pet” you glared at him, hating the way your voice stuttered as you spoke out against his accusations. “You most definitely are” he rolled his eyes, causing your eyebrows to furrow, “how else are you affording all your materials while others have much crappier ones? T-E-A-C-H-E-R’S P-E-T” he stated, enunciating every note at the end of his sentence.

You glared at him, not feeling the need to prove yourself against his harmful words. No longer wanting to be belittled, you turned around, the clay that was previously stuck to your hands cracking.

You tried to ignore him, truly, but every time you thought you were no longer going to see his face, there he appeared.

At first, it was at your job, he would come at least three times a day, getting his daily Iced Americano fix.

“Isn’t it unhealthy to drink more than one of these a day?” you asked, it was slower today so you had time to talk to him as he paid.

“Wow, she speaks!” he exclaimed, slowly pulling out his card. “I thought you were taking a vow of silence seeing as every time you don’t even ask me what I want. I thought customer service helps you keep your job?” he joked, tilting his head to the side.

“Well, my manager said it was okay to ignore dicks, so I think that’s what I’m doing!” you grinned, using your ‘customer service voice’ as he just rolled his eyes at you.

“You would love to see my dick” he whispered, coming closer to the register so only you could hear him.

Through a smile, you muttered, “If it’s anything like your personality, I bet it’s disgusting and nothing special!”

He just tsked at you, walking away as someone had finally entered the little coffee place, coming up to the register to place their order.

The next place was in your own apartment. You had no idea that your roommate, Felix, was close friends with the devil incarnate.

“Why does he have to come over?” you whined, your body clad in overalls and a tank top as you took a bite of the warm brownie that he had made to help bring you to the “dark side”.

As you took another bite, you didn’t realize the chocolate that was oozing out of the fudgy dessert, getting on the corner of your mouth.

“He’s my best friend, plus I don’t know why you don’t like him. He’s like so nice to everyone, not to mention isn’t he your type? I do remember you loooove tall guys, people who are into are, and love reading. He checks all of your boxes babe” he giggled, watching as you glared at him, cheeks filled with the brownies he made you.

“That doesn’t forgo him being one of the worst people I’ve ever met like he’s such a fucking asshole” you groaned, taking a sip of milk.

“Hey! That “asshole” happens to be my best friend, so don’t talk about him like that or I’m cutting you off!”

For such a small and kind dude, he sure had a fiery side to him. You simply nodded your head, lowering it in defeat, allowing him to pet it.

He began to coo at you as he stroked your hair back. “Look at you being such a good roommate” he giggled, feeding you more of the brownie, which you happily accepted.

“Now I have to go shower, so if he comes, please open the door for him and make him feel a bit welcome?” Lixie grinned at you, bopping your nose as you nodded your head, not wanting to be a nuisance to your friend.

You scrolled on your phone, your legs hitting the cabinets underneath the counter you were currently situated on before you heard the jingle of the door knob. Before you could even jump down, the door opened itself, Hyunjin in front of it key in hand.

“Felix, I can’t wait to tell you about this–” he cut himself off as he saw you, legs jangling off of the kitchen counter, phone in one hand, brownie in the other.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you a stalker or something?” he groaned, placing his stuff on the couch, only for his hands to cross over his body, trying to prove a point.

“I live here, Felix is my roommate and I’m going back to my room,” you said as kindly as you possibly could, not wanting to upset Lix after he politely asked you not to be a dick.

“I don’t believe it, you want me that bad you made up an entire scheme to try and sleep with me, I mean I know I’m irresistible, but still that’s a new low.”

Before he could continue spewing nonsense, you took his hand dragging it to your room. You opened the door allowing him to look inside. Your bra on the floor, your bed made but a bit crumpled from sitting on it earlier, and pictures of you and your friends littering the walls.

“Is this enough proof for you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side waiting for his response.

Instead, he took your face in the palm of his hand, his thumb first stroking your chin then slowly shifting down to the corner of your lip. He pulled you a bit closer, your eyes roaming his face, and your breath was caught in your throat. You thought he was going to kiss you, he pulled away with a laugh.

“What a loser, you had chocolate all over your face while trying to talk to me. Aren’t you the least bit embarrassed?” he grinned, placing the thumb that was just rubbing at the corner of your lip into his mouth, savoring the taste.

“You mean nothing to me, so why would I care?” you shrugged, taking your wallet in your hand before slowly moving away from your dorm frame to the entrance of your apartment.

“Tell Felix I’m not going to be back for dinner” With that you left, leaving Hyunjin dumbfounded in the middle of your apartment.

He was just trying to play hard to get, but you were still not getting it. Did you not notice that he went out of his way to go to the coffee shop that was out of his way, only on days you were working? How he spent hours in the classroom with you just to hear what song you were obsessed with that week, it was like you were oblivious to his infatuation with you. You couldn’t be that dumb, could you?

The last and most hated place to see him was the studio. It was your sanctuary, sure your room meant a lot to you, your own private space, but while working on your art, everything was basically white noise.

From the moment you put on your headphones, you are lost in a trance. The only thing on your mind is the piece in front of you and how you could make it better from the last.

You were so immersed in your work, that you didn’t realize that Hyunjin had entered the room, working on his own piece.

Almost an hour had passed as the two of you sat working on your respective pieces. What you didn’t notice was that he was on the phone. You could see his lips moving, but you didn’t think much of it, partly because you didn’t care enough, and the other half was because your favorite song was playing and you had forgotten about him.

It wasn’t until your headphones died that you finally heard the words leaving his mouth.

“She’s so fucking cute, but I don’t know how she hasn’t noticed that I like her yet. Like why else would I go to her coffee shop 3 times a day Felix? And don’t say it’s because I have a coffee addiction, I know that, but I only go there to see her. And fuck, did you see her at Bin’s party, that short skirt I thought I was going to cum right there and then. How difficult is it for her to see that I like her?” he groaned, covering his face with his hands.

You didn’t even realize that you dropped your bowl of water until he looked up at you, your eyes meeting his. Before you could properly react, he quickly hung up the phone, walking towards you.

You didn’t even realize, but you had started to run away, but you had nowhere to hide. You squatted down, trying to shield your body from him, but it only allowed him to come closer to you.

“You heard what I said, didn’t you?” he asked as he crouched down to meet your height.

You didn’t respond, instead just nodding your head, which caused him to groan. He slowly pulled your hands away from your face, his hand on your chin.

“I like you” he whispered, his face coming closer to yours. “Okay?” you responded, your voice quieter than his.

“Let me show you” and with that, he captured your lips with his, pulling your body closer to him. Your lips were working in tandem as he wrapped your legs around his torso, your hands flying to the back of his neck, allowing him to pick you up.

He pulled both of your bodies up, leading you to the closest desk, not allowing the two of you to break your kiss. His tongue licking at the seam of your mouth, begging for an entrance.

You allowed it, your breaths getting heavier as he pushed his cock into the seam of your leggings, the room filled with your whimpers as he pressed deeper into you, allowing you to feel the hardness of him through his jeans.

He slowly pulled away, a trail of spit connecting the two of you. “Fuck” you whined as he slowly pulled down your leggings, the cool air causing goosebumps to riddle your legs and arms.

“Look at this pretty little cunt” he whispered, admiring the way your lips pushed against the cotton of your underwear. “Can’t wait to eat it” he grinned, tearing off your underwear causing you to shout.

“Hyunjin what the fuck, I never said you could do that?” but you were cut off by the feeling of his plush lips against your clit, lapping away. Your hands instantaneously grasped his hair, pushing him deeper into you, allowing the only thought on his mind to be your pussy.

You moaned as he continued lapping at it, learning every curve, where you loved being touched. He wanted to understand you, know what made you tick, he wanted to make you his.

He slowly brought his hand up to your cunt, his finger teasing your hole before slowly pushing it inside of you. “Do you like that baby?” he whispered into your cunt, the vibration on your clit causing your eyes to roll back.

“Feels so good” you whimpered as you lowered yourself, your back hitting the table.

He didn’t want to stop until he made you cum in his mouth, he needed to taste you after chasing you for months. He slowly added another finger, thrusting it inside of your soaking hole, his other hand grabbing your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

“Gonna cum Jinnie” you whimpered, your high being near. As soon as the word Jinnie left your lips, he felt like he was going to cum, the sound of you moaning his name was ringing in his ears and he needed to hear it again and again.

“Fuck baby, gonna cum, gonna cum on my fingers like a good girl?”

“Yes, gonna cum for Jinnie” you whimpered, your orgasm taking control of your body, it twitching under the feeling of his fingers continuously thrusting into you, hitting that spongey spot in your repeatedly.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on” he whispered, kissing your lips once again.

You could feel his cock pressing onto your thigh, it protruding through his jeans and all you could think about was making him feel good.

“Want to make you feel good Jinnie” you whined, pulling away from his lips as your hands frantically went to his jeans, pulling them down to try and get access to his cock. There was a slight wet patch on his boxers, which made you whimper.

“Please, need it” you whined, your hands trailing to your cunt, spreading your lips apart to show him how wet you were for him.

“You are going to kill me baby” he grinned, pulling his boxers down, allowing his cock to hit his stomach. Your eyes looked at him in fear when you saw his size. He was long and thick, bigger than everyone you’ve ever been with.

“Don’t tell me you are scared” he chuckled, running the tip of his cock along your folds, capturing your wetness along his tip. You shook your head, trying to prove to him that you weren’t.

“It’s okay baby, I’ll go slow, let me get a condom” But before he could even reach into his jeans to get his wallet, you stopped him. “It’s okay, I’m on the pill, please need to feel all of you Jinnie”

Who was he to say no to your cute pleading face, so he slowly pushed the tip of his cock into you, causing the two of you to moan. You at the feeling of your cunt being stretched out, and him at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock.

His cock was so deep inside of you, you felt like you could cum from just his cock resting inside of you.

“Fuck baby, your pussy is taking me so well, wish we did this before instead of all this bickering, it’s like you were made for me.” he moaned while slowly beginning to thrusting into you, making sure he wasn’t going to fast.

To ensure your comfort, and to get you closer to your high because he knew he wasn’t going to last long, he began playing with your clit. “Jinnie feels so good, you are so deep inside of me” you whimpered.

He took it as a sign to start thrusting into you deeper. Each thrush hits your g-spot perfectly. With the stimulation of his finger on your clit, you couldn’t do it anymore. You started clenching down on him harder and harder.

Your cunt was locking him in and all he could do was groan. The final push was when he moaned directly into your ear. You came all over his cock letting your moans hit his ear. He pulled out of you stroking his cock “Where do you want me to cum baby?” he whined, feeling close.

“I want it in my mouth” you begged and that was all he needed. He slowly lifted your body from the table as you fell to your knees in front of him, allowing him to push his cock into your mouth.

He shoved it deep inside, causing you to deep-throat it, and came straight down your throat. “Fuck, I can’t believe we didn’t do that sooner.” he grinned.

“It’s all your fault, you were the bully” you whined, trying to find your leggings to pull over your body since the room had gotten significantly cooler.

“We should get dressed though, we don’t need anyone else to know what we just did” he looked around frantically, a worried look on his face, causing you to laugh.

“You just fucked me on a desk, and now you are scared?”

“Yes, because I had this whole plan of taking you out to dinner, and buying you this really pretty dress I saw that I thought looked perfect for you and everything” he pouted.

He looked adorable like this, and you couldn’t believe it was the same man that made your life a living hell, that was now in front of you causing you to coo at his jutted lip.

“You are so cute” you mumbled, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. Maybe love starts off different for everyone.

_____

You walked into your apartment, hand in hand. A grin splayed on his face as you fought with him about how drinking iced americanos more than twice a day was crazy, and how his heart was going to stop.

The two of you didn’t even realize that Felix was in your living room until the two of you heard an “I fucking knew it!”

He was whooping and hollering around your apartment. “I knew it was going to start with this enemies-to-lover type shit and then boom y’all are going to fuck”

Before the two of you could even utter a single word, he stopped you by continuing. “Please tell me it wasn’t on our shared couch though, it doesn’t need to be fucked on a second time”

“You what!” you looked at him with fury in your eyes, Hyunjin just laughed at the spectacle playing out in front of him, damn he loved you.

#gia writes!#skz smut #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #straykids smut #straykids x reader #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader

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number1jeonginstan · 5 months

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A/N: I got a little bored, then I thought about fem!Felix and then I got carried away, but damn I need her in my life, like seriously, someone get me her, or fem!Innie and Minho because damn...

WC: 1.5k

Pairing: Fem!Lixie x afab!Reader (WxW, if you don't like it, don't read!)

Warnings: Mommy Kink! Calling Lixie a whore once or twice, Kissing, dildo usage, fingering, oral (reader receiving)

“Hey, could I borrow a pen?” you asked the girl beside you. Her hair was in two small pigtails, freckles adorning her face. She was one of the prettiest girls you had ever seen, her smile radiating, she simply nodded, rummaging through her pencil pouch and finding a pen with a fluffy pompom.

“Here you go” she whispered before continuing to write down what your professor was saying. You smiled back before going back to your own notes.

As you guys were wrapping up, you turned back to her in an attempt to give her pen back. “You can keep it” she grinned, “it looks cute with you”

“Can I get you coffee as a thank you then?” you asked, not wanting her to walk away. “I’m Y/N by the way” you giggled as the two of you walked to the nearest coffee shop on campus. “I’m Lixie,” she said, her cheeks ridden with a slight blush.

“What would you like to drink” you asked as the two of you set down your bags at a nearby table. “Anything with a lot of sugar” she replied as she took out her notebook.

“You got it!”

You came back to the table holding an iced americano for yourself, an iced caramel macchiato for Lixie, and a brownie for the two of you to share.

“Here you go” You placed the cup in front of her as she took a sip you watched as her eyes brightened. “Is it good?”

“So good, how did you know what I like?”

“Just a guess” You placed the brownie on the table, already split in half as you sat down. “I brought this for us to share if you don’t mind”

“Do you like brownies?” she asked as you took a bite of your own. You nodded a quick yes, covering your mouth with your hand as you continued to chew.

“I’ve been told I make the best brownies, if you ever want to come over, I can make them for you”

“Really?” you asked, your expression a bit shocked. “Omg, of course, here give me your number and I’ll invite you over one day”

She handed you her phone as you typed out your number, you didn’t see the slight glimmer in her eyes watching you.

That was how the two of you’s friendship started. From that day, the two of you were inseparable. Whether it be going to the library together, or just getting coffee, or even going out to parties, the two of you were stuck like glue. It was to the point that you both had keys to each other's apartments.

You barely ever put it to use, but since you forgot your laptop at her apartment last night after having your weekly binge-watching session and she wasn’t answering her phone, desperate times called for desperate measures.

You entered her apartment, still smelling the scent of banana bread the two of you made last night as a midnight snack wafting through the air. As you walked to her room door, you heard slight muffles which you didn’t think much of.

She must be showering, you thought to yourself. You heard some whimpers and even the sound of your name, but you were in dire need of your computer, so you pushed past it, opening her door only to see her on her bed, hands pinching her nipples as she was riding a dildo, moaning your name.

“Fuck y/n~ need you so bad”

“Lix?” you gasped, watching her eyes shoot open, she quickly covered herself with her blanket, hiding herself. She slowly popped her head out, too ashamed to even look at you.

“How much of that did you hear?” she whispered, her entire face red.

“Nothing, I promise. Unless you wanted me to hear?”

You slowly walked up to her bed, lifting the blanket off her body, admiring it to the fullest extent. Her breasts were tiny, while her nipples were hard, just begging to be played with. Her cunt was soaking with the dildo still inside it. If you closed your eyes and listened, you bet you could hear the squelching of her cunt around it.

“Baby, be a good girl and get on the floor for me okay?”

She simply nodded, removing the silicon toy covered with her juices. Before she could put it anywhere, you told her to hand it to you, and she complied.

The toy itself was a bright hot pink, like everything in her room, and you felt your lips open at the look of it. She was easily taking this seven-inch thing inside of her. You were about to have so much fun.

She gravitated to the floor, kneeling in front of you, waiting for your command. She was fully naked, her juices running down her thighs. You let out a slight moan at the sight bestowed in front of you.

“Fuck, you look so good, but let’s see how you taste?”

You placed the tip of the dildo at your lips, groaning at the taste of her. You were already getting addicted, knowing that after you had fun with her, you were going to eat her out for hours.

“Taste so good for me baby, so sweet all for me”

“Just for you Mommy” Lixie replied, whimpering at the sight of you taking it in your mouth. She slowly began to press her thighs together, trying to relieve herself. You had come seconds before she was going to cum, stopping her from reaching her high.

“Aww, kitten can’t control herself, can she? She’s just a dumb little girl”

“Yes Mommy, I’m just a dumb little girl, please I need you, it hurts so bad” she whimpered.

You chuckled at this, telling her to get closer as you sat on the edge of the bed. You placed the suction cup of the dildo on the floor. “Be a good kitten and ride it for me okay” she simply nodded, slowly pressing the tip against her aching hole, moaning at the stretch.

“So big Mommy, feeling so deep in my cunt”

“Yeah, my kitten is a little whore, taking such a big dick inside such a tiny cunt”

“Yes, a whore just for you Mommy” she whimpered as she got back up before falling back down, riding it just like you had asked.

“Such a good girl for me”

You bent down a bit, capturing her lips with yours before deepening the kiss, your tongue dominating hers. Lixie began to slow down a bit, too entranced by the way your mouth felt on hers.

“What did Mommy say, can’t you listen to simple rules, baby?” You grabbed her ass, kissing her lips again before slamming her cunt up and down the toy with your help.

“Fuck Mommy!” she screamed underneath you, “feels so good, wish it was you who was inside me” she whimpered, her walls clenching around the toy.

“Don’t worry, Mommy is going to be inside you soon, but first you got to help me” You pulled down your leggings, tossing them somewhere in her room before grabbing her hand and running it along your underwear.

“Look how wet you make me, can you take care of Mommy while you ride your little toy?” you asked as she attempted to paw off your underwear.

“Yes, I can do that for Mommy” she whimpered, the toy reaching a specifically deep part inside of her as she shifted to try and take your cunt in her mouth.

You sat in front of her legs spread open, your underwear hanging off your foot as she dove straight into your pussy.

She was lapping up your essence through your folds as she was pinching her own breasts, moaning into your cunt as she kissed your clit.

She hummed into your clit before slowly adding a finger to your hole. You could feel yourself clench around it, she was so skilled, her finger hitting that gummy spot inside you with just a few tries.

You clenched even harder as she added a second finger, continuing to fuck herself on the cock below her, not slowing her pace down like before.

“So good for me baby, so good for Mommy” you moaned, grabbing her hair in your hands, and pushing her face harder into your cunt.

The two of you were so close, her moaning into your cunt while fingering you while the cock inside of her was hitting all the spots it needed to. It only took another thrust of her fingers and a pinch of her nipples for the two of you to convulse, your thighs squishing her face as a creamy white ring at the base of the cock beneath her came to fruition.

“Fuck Mommy, that was so good” she yelled as your thighs separated from her face.

“Who said we were done, baby?”

#ju <3 writes #ju <3 thoughts #stray kids #skz #straykids x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #straykids smut #skz felix #lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #lee felix #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #fem lee felix

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jeonginify · 1 year

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deny me (lovesong) — kim seungmin. ·˚ ༘♡

↝ pairing: kim seungmin x reader ↝ genre: humor, fluff, established relationship!au ↝ word count: 4k ↝ warnings: general menace behavior, you and seungmin are in love but pretend not to be, gross sickening fluff, jisung obviously doesn’t have the paboracha brain cell this week (don't mind that the banner isn't a gif my photoshop subscription expired.......)

↝ summary: the only thing you love more than your boyfriend seungmin’s smile is his obsession with fucking around with his friends. or, after one too many fights between his two best friends who can’t get along for the life of them, han jisung isn’t sure he can handle it anymore (who’s going to tell him that they don’t actually hate each other and are, in fact, dating?)

Thursdays have always been your favorite day of the week.

“Hi babe.”

To be fair, any day that you get to see Kim Seungmin is your favorite. But for the six months that the two of you have been dating, Thursdays have always been your day because it is when you get to see him the most, free of any distractions.

The two of you met through your mutual friends, and although you love them (well, you love them sometimes), they can be demanding. Early on in the friendship, back when you were all itty bitty freshmen with a thirst for the party life, Changbin claimed Fridays as your going out nights. Saturdays, then, were reserved for movie night at Hyunjin and Minho’s after a few too many Marvel marathons sophomore year. Sundays eventually ended up being taken by weekly brunch with Jeongin, and every other day of the week—well, those ended up occupied by one clingy, over-attached Han Jisung.

But Thursdays? Those Seungmin kept clear just for you.

“Ew,” you wrinkle your nose as your boyfriend leans down and plants a sloppy kiss on your forehead.

He raises a brow before flopping into the seat next to you and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Say that again,” Seungmin mutters as he peppers more kisses on your face.

Somehow, he manages to make the words sound both threatening and endearing at the same time. His lips trail their way down your cheek, along your jaw, to the corner of your lips, until you can’t take it anymore.

“Okay, okay,” you relent with a laugh. “I missed you too.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says triumphantly. You tilt your head up, ready for the final kiss, but he pretends not to notice the way you pucker your lips.

“Now get away from me.”

Seungmin dramatically pushes you off, but the smirk playing across his face tells you that he is just joking.

“Okay, loser,” you sniff, taking a sip from your coffee.

“How was class today?” He asks, shrugging his bag onto the ground.

“S’alright,” you sigh, pushing a cup towards him. You had ordered his iced Americano when you had arrived a few minutes earlier. This was your favorite café, and it had become a tradition to meet here after classes—it was a bit far from campus, sure, but you never minded, and neither did Seungmin.

He takes a big sip from his drink, grinning happily.

“Are you finally done with that project Professor Cho assigned?”

“Yes, thank god,” you roll your eyes.

“Good,” he laces his fingers with your hand on top of the table.

“Now you can focus all your attention on me again,” he bats his eyelashes.

“Awww, was my Minnie jealous of my biology class?” You coo.

“Never,” he wrinkles his nose. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Riiiiiiight,” you nod. “So what do you call that time you ignored Jeongin for two weeks because, and I quote, he was ‘breathing too close’ to me?”

“I just didn’t want any of his stupidity to rub off,” Seungmin says sincerely. “You need every brain cell you can get.”

You scoff and try to break free from where his hand holds yours, but his fingers just tighten their grasp.

“Okay, well what about that time you blew up on Changbin because he fell asleep in my lap?”

Your boyfriend’s eyes narrow at the memory.

“That was, like, a week before we made it official,” he insists. “It wasn’t jealousy, it was anxiety.”

“And who’s fault is it that it took us so long to get together?” You tease.

“Jisung’s,” Seungmin says immediately.

“Okay,” you admit. “That’s like, half true.”

Before you and Seungmin started dating, before the two of you were even friends, there was Han Jisung.

You met him on the first day of college orientation. He latched onto you immediately, claiming that you were the only one who seemed nice enough to be friends with someone as annoying as him. You thought he was just trying to be funny, but after three days non-stop with hi, you learned the hard way he was being dead seriously. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), he was annoying in the exact same way as you, so the two of you got along splendidly.

Seungmin on the other hand had no choice in his relationship with Jisung. Neighbors by chance, childhood friends by force, the two of them were attached at the hip all throughout middle school and high school. In what your boyfriend describes as a cruel twist of fate, Jisung even ended up following Seungmin to university a few towns over. He jokes about how he’ll never be free of him, but you know Seungmin does actually care a lot about Jisung, even if he refuses to admit it.

Once it became apparent that you were a permanent fixture in his life, Jisung made it his duty to connect the bridge between his two best friends. Unfortunately for him, however, you and Seungmin don’t have the smoothest of starts.

The day that Jisung tries to introduce you is probably the worst day possible. You are irritated and sleep deprived, and Seungmin is a week out from the deadline for his biggest presentation of the semester. In short, the two of you are teetering on the edge of sanity and are a little more than a bit exasperated with Jisung himself.

After staying up all night studying for an exam, the last thing you want is to get wasted and stay out past 2am, and yet that is the most likely fate you face when Jisung drags you out to a party against your will.

You really don’t want to be here, but—well, you figure that since you have nothing else to do, you might as well take a chance to de-stress. The party is still in its first leg and hasn’t grown into the rager that it undoubtedly will be, so it is relatively easy to venture into the kitchen and grab a drink.

The first time you lay eyes on Kim Seungmin is when you make your way back to Jisung. The two of them are standing in the backyard, locked in a tepid conversation as you approach.

“Seriously, Jisung,” Seungmin says, running a hand through his hair. “This is why you dragged me out of the library?”

The first thing you notice is how hot he is. Tall, strong jawline, angular face, chocolate eyes.

The second thing you notice, almost immediately after, is how unhappy he looks to be here. Even more unhappy than you.

“C’mon,” Jisung whines, tugging on Seungmin’s arm. “It’s just for a little bit, and I promise Y/N is cool! Is it a crime that I want my best friends to be friends?”

“It is when I have a ten page paper due tomorrow,” Seungmin mutters.

You don’t blame him for being pissy, but something about the way he says it, with such clear disdain in his voice, rubs you the wrong way.

“Nice to meet you too,” you say sarcastically as you come to a stop next to them.

“Y/N, there you are!” Jisung exclaims happily, latching on to your arm too.

You take a sip of your drink, pushing down the wince that threatens to spread across your face at the taste of pure battery acid jungle juice. And the entire time, you maintain eye contact with Seungmin, never breaking even as you swallow.

To his credit, Seungmin stares back with no hesitation. If you hadn’t been annoyed with him, you probably would have found his confidence insanely attractive. Instead, it annoys you even more.

And while the two of you are locked in an intense staredown, Jisung stands in between you, one arm still linked with yours and the other with Seungmin’s.

“Y/N,” Jisung begins excitedly. “This is Seungmin. Seungmin, this is Y/N.”

“Right,” Seungmin says dryly. “No offense. I’m sure you’re great...”

The rest of the sentence is implied: “...but I have better things to do right now.”

“You too,” you can’t resist jabbing back.

“So nice to meet you,” Seungmin says briskly. It’s not rude, but it’s not not.

“Not sure if I can say the same,” you respond, a smile stretching across your face despite the acid in your tone.

“G-Guys...” Jisung interrupts nervously, but neither of you notice.

“Right...” Seungmin says again, nodding slowly.

Despite your abrasive remark, he doesn’t show much reaction. His apathy is like an itch under your skin; in the end, that is what annoys you the most.

(Now, you love how cool and collected Seungmin can be. But back then, when you first met him, you hated it.)

“Well,” Seungmin turns to Jisung, who has gone as pale as a sheet by now.

“We met. I’m going to go now.”

“W-What—?” Jisung stutters. Before he can intervene, Seungmin nods once at you and turns, taking three long strides away from you.

By the time Jisung finally finds his words again, Seungmin has already disappeared.

The next time you meet Seungmin is at one of the first movie nights at Hyunjin and Minho’s. It has been a few weeks since Jisung’s failed attempt to introduce you, and you are already cozy on the couch next to Felix when Seungmin walks in.

Jisung is in the middle of telling a very animated story to Minho when he spots Seungmin and immediately freezes. The color leeches from his face so fast that you think he might pass out, but it is only when he looks quickly between you and Seungmin that you realize exactly why he looks so nervous.

“Min,” Felix says happily. “You made it!”

Seungmin nods, his eyes briefly passing over you before he spots the empty spot next to Chan and makes a beeline for it.

After a little time and a lot of sleep (and maybe just a tad bit of reflection) you have come to the realization that maybe your reaction to Seungmin at the party wasn’t warranted. After all, he was entitled to be annoyed at Jisung and the situation in general, and it wasn’t you specifically that he was irritated about, so you have no reason to take it personally or hold a grudge.

Which is why you’re not annoyed at Seungmin’s presence. tonight. Instead, you can’t help but feel a little bit... awkward. Chagrined, maybe?

You might feel calm but Jisung is two seconds away from pissing his pants. In fact, he’s so desperate to clear up any misunderstandings that halfway through the movie he texts you for an emergency rendezvous in the kitchen.

“IpromiseIdidn’tknowhewasgoingtocometonight!” Jisung blurts out in one breath once you two are away from the rest of the guys.

“Okay...?” You raise a brow.

“So, like,” he blabbers, “don’t hate me! I love you both and I’m sorry for forcing you guys to meet—”

“—Jisung,” you interrupt. “It’s okay.”

“Really?” He asks uncertainly.

“Really,” you affirm.

“Okay,” he nods, and you feel the overwhelming urge to give him a paper bag to breathe into. Not because that is the proper treatment for hyperventilation—precisely because it isn’t, and maybe if he passes out then he’ll stop worrying.

When you walk back into the living room, Seungmin doesn’t even look up at you, but you have the strangest feeling that he knows exactly what you and Jisung were talking about.

Later that night, you loiter around the apartment a little bit longer than you usually would, just to avoid leaving at the same time as Seungmin. Your plan backfires, though, when Jisung has to leave early. You try to hang around a little bit longer, but then Minho and Hyunjin start to wonder why you are still there, and you have no choice but to leave.

Which is how you end up trailing awkwardly after Seungmin on your walk back to your apartment. It takes him precisely two minutes to notice that you are behind him, and then three more before he comes to a halt.

“I’m not following you!” You insist immediately. “My place is just in this direction too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay...” you parrot back awkwardly.

“So,” Seungmin begins a moment later. “I just... I wanted to apologize.”

“What?”

“For that night at the party,” he clarifies. “I was kind of... no, I was very stressed. And rude. It wasn’t cool for me to treat you like that.”

You are so stunned you don’t know what to say.

“Jisung speaks very highly of you,” Seungmin continues. “And I swear, if it had been any other day, I wouldn’t have been such a dick. Not that it’s any excuse...”

“Well,” you begin, a warm blush spreading over your cheeks. “I don’t think that’s really your fault. I was kind of a bitch, too.”

His serious facade cracks and a small hint of a smile peeks through.

“Either way,” Seungmin says. “I did actually want to make a good impression, believe it or not, so... Do you think we could start over?”

You don’t even have to think before you respond, “I’ll gladly erase that version of Y/N you met for this one. I promise, I’m not always that rude.”

His face breaks into a bigger smile, and it almost takes your breath away.

“Well,” he says. “That makes two of us.”

That is the beginning of your friendship with Seungmin. After that first movie night, you start to see him more frequently on campus. Then, the new semester starts, and you find that the two of you share an intro to film class.

Almost naturally, the two of you start to hang out more and more, and you begrudgingly realize that maybe Jisung was on to something when he insisted that the two of you meet.

It is only when you’re too deep in and the feelings (romantic, of course) for Seungmin have really started to take root do the two of you realize—even though you rehabilitated your relationship, Jisung still thinks you hate each other.

This realization hits on a Friday at a party that Changbin drags the entire group to. This time, thankfully, both you and Seungmin do want to be there, and the night is going well.

(At least, as well as it can when you are grappling with the complicated newfound feelings you have for a recent friend-slash-study buddy.)

Then, in the midst of a tequila the midst of a tequila-induced haze, Jeongin finds you and Seungmin on the dancefloor.

“Hey!” he shouts. “You guys are friends, right?”

Seungmin looks at you, then shrugs.

“Yeah!” You shout back.

“Then why,” Jeongin asks, “is Jisung about to have a mental breakdown about you two?”

“What do you mean?”

He keeps whining to Changbin about how horrible it is that you two hate each other!”

“We don’t—” You begin.

The realization hits you and Seungmin at the same time, and it’s like you can see the lightbulb go off in his head.

“Oh...” you mutter.

“Oh,” he agrees.

“You guys are weird!” Jeongin shouts, eyes flitting between the two of you as you stare at each other.

“Heyyyyyy!” Jisung shouts even louder, his voice anxious as he comes to a stop between you and Seungmin.

“How are you both doing?”

His nervousness is almost laughable, but when you look at Seungmin, there is a devious twinkle in his eyes.

By now, you know him pretty well. And that look? It tells you only one thing: that he’s about to do something to fuck around with Jisung.

“I’m fine,” Seungmin says primly. His tone is such a stark contrast to how he was speaking only moments ago—it is guarded and prickly, and you catch on immediately.

“Who knows,” you mutter a moment later, going along with Seungmin.

“So you guys—” Jisung begins wearily.

“He keeps following me,” you point out.

“She keeps following me,” Seungmin rebutts.

“R-Really?” Jisung asks nervously.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “I’m going to find Felix.”

Seungmin averts his gaze quickly, but not before you see the way he is biting back his laugh. And when you turn on your heel and head outside, a smile is plastered to your face as Jisung begins to badger him with questions.

The smile remains glued in place as the sound of Seungmin fibbing fades into the background.

That is the first time you pretend to still dislike each other in front of Jisung. The next time it happens is right before Hyunjin’s birthday when Felix ropes everyone into baking brownies for him. After that, it is when you and the guys go paintballing and you and Seungmin end up on opposite teams.

The fun of it is always how flustered Jisung gets. None of your other friends actually believe that you and Seungmin dislike each other—they know better than that. But Jisung, with his whole chest, thinks you and Seungmin hate each other. (Never mind the fact that you can’t look at him without hearts in your eyes...)

Once the charade started, you and Seungmin never clarified how long you were going to play along with it. Eventually, months have passed, and then when he finally works up the guts to ask you out officially, the face remains firmly in place.

Which is how you wind up here, six months later and happily dating, with your mutual best friend under the assumption that you guys actually hate each other.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Seungmin asks as he takes a sip from his iced Americano.

“How irritating you were when we first met,” you say wistfully, tapping your fingers affectionately on the back of his hand.

“Hmmm? I recall you being just as irritating,” Seungmin tells you.

“Me?” You gasp. “I’m an angel. I could never.”

“More like a devil in disguise,” he rolls his eyes.

“If I’m a devil, what does that say about you?”

“What can I say? I love charity work,” he declares dramatically. “You’re my community service project.

“I’m telling your mom,” you attempt to pull your hand out of his, and this time you succeed.

A pout stretches across his face, and it only takes a few seconds for you to break and lace your fingers with his once again.

“You’re scared of my mom,” Seungmin challenges, a lazy smirk stretching across his face.

Butterflies swim through your stomach, but you shove them down at the obvious jab.

“I’m not scared of her!” You insist. “I’m scared of meeting her. There’s a difference.”

“Sure, babe,” he nods solemnly.

“I’m serious!”

“I’m sure you are,” he placates.

“Stop looking at me like that,” now it is your turn to pout.

“Like what?” He asks innocently.

“Like you think I’m cute.”

“But I do think you’re cute,” Seungmin points out.

“Well,” you say, flustered. “Stop!”

“It’s your fault for looking like that,” he says. “I’m not making you do that. In fact, don’t you think it’s more unfair for me?”

“How?” You narrow your eyes.

“I should be the cute one in the relationship,” he says like its obvious. “It’s not fair that you’re more adorable than me.”

“Awww, Seung,” you light up.

“I think you’re very adorable, and—” you coo, but stop short when something outside the coffee shop window catches you by surprise.

“—And I hate you,” you finish shortly, shoving Seungmin’s hand out of yours and crossing your arm with a huff.

“What?” He mutters, confused. “Wait, what just happened? Did I do something wrong?”

You roll your eyes, scooting your chair away from him. A distinctive chime rings, indicating that the door has been opened and then closed.

“Babe—” He begins, but then he stops too.

“Bab-y,” Seungmin says derisively, arranging his face into a mask of cool disdain.

“I’m calling you a baby.”

“Nice save,” you mouth, and Seungmin sticks his tongue out at you.

“Y/N,” Jisung’s voice comes behind you. “Seungmin! What are you guys doing here... Together?”

He sounds equal parts shocked and horrified, and for a moment you feel bad for him.

Then you remember that time last month when he woke you up at the ass crack of dawn and dragged you on a hike up a mountain, only to abandon you halfway up because he got a call from the girl he’s been hooking up with to come over, and you suddenly don’t feel bad anymore.

“Our professor assigned a group project,” Seungmin fibs seamlessly. “Y/N and I got paired up.”

“No need to sound so annoyed,” you say sweetly, kicking him under the table.

(It’s less of a kick and more of you playing footsies with him, but it has the desired effect when Jisung’s eyes flit nervously around and Seungmin’s finger twitches ever so slightly towards your hand.)

“Who said I’m annoyed about it?” Seungmin asks, a serene smile stretching across his face.

“You did,” you tell him. “Many times, actually.”

“I’m more than annoyed. Exasperated, maybe, or incensed.

“Anyways,” you roll your eyes, barely able to keep your laughter at bay.

The funniest part about this conversation is that Seungmin isn’t completely lying.

Although the two of you aren’t currently working on anything, you were paired up a few weeks ago. Throughout the project, he couldn’t stop complaining about how annoying it was to be paired up with you—he claimed you were a pretty distraction, and that he couldn’t be expected to get any work done around you when he could kiss you instead.

“What are you doing here, Jisung?”

“I was just passing by!” He says shrilly, a little bit too fast.

Your raise an eyebrow. Recently, any time Jisung finds you and Seungmin in a (fake) argument, he can’t seem to escape fast enough. Individually, he has no problem being around you two. But it’s like he’s afraid to be standing in the blast zone when it comes to you and Seungmin together—which, in your opinion, is hilarious.

The farce, then, is both amusing and beneficial, which is probably why you and Seungmin have dragged it out for so long. Because god knows, if Jisung knew that you and Seungmin actually liked each other, he would never give you any alone time.

His two best friends being friends is his dream. His two best friends dating? Frankly, you’re scared to see how he would act...

“Passing by?” Seungmin asks. “This far away from campus?”

“Yup!” Jisung exclaims cheerily. “And would you look at that? It’s already 4pm. I’ve got to go! I’ll see you later, bye!”

He is already inching towards the door before he begins speaking. By the time he has squeezed all the words out, his hands are on the door.

You barely have the chance to say a quick “bye!” before he swings the door open and rushes out.

You and Seungmin watch through the window as Jisung speed walks away from the coffee shop, his fingers gripping his bag tightly.

And then, when he is out of sight, you both burst into laughter.

“Sorry babe,” you pout, reaching for Seungmin’s hand once the coast is clear. “I don’t actually hate you.”

“Well, unfortunately,” he clicks his tongue. “I was actually calling you a baby.”

Your pout deepens.

“But you’re my baby,” Seungmin amends, giving you a little kiss on the cheek. You sigh happily, scooting close so you can link your arm through his.

“D’you think we should tell him sometime soon?” You ask.

A moment of silence passes.

“Nah,” Seungmin says finally.

“Really?”

“He was a menace to me throughout high school,” he says. “This is my revenge.

“Okay...” You say uncertainly.

“And, if you think about it,” Seungmin goes on. “It’s his fault that he still hasn’t noticed after all this time. All the other guys know. Even Hyunjin knows.”

“You know, that is a good point.”

“Thanks babe,” he kisses your cheek again, a smirk on his face. “I know it is.”

“Oh, hush,” you mutter, not entirely happy with how smug he looks.

But then, he leans in and finally kisses you on the lips, and you forget why you were annoyed with him in the first place.

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snowyquokka · 3 months

Text

SECRET SECRET

K. SEUNGMIN

chapter 1

cw: swearing, fem reader, academic rivals, angst if you squint, both like each other but wont admit it

wc: 1.2k

a.n - welcome to my first full fic !! im super excited to share this and im actually really proud of it. happy reading <3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You’re sitting at your usual spot in the library on your college campus when a book is slammed down on your table, ripping a yelp from your chest as you practically jump out of your skin. You look up to see a smug grin splayed on full, pale pink lips.

Brown eyes sparkle back at you mischievously and before he even opens his mouth, you just know he’s going to say something to purposely aggravate you.

“I don’t want to know, nor do I care.” you grumble before turning back to your book.

“Where the Crawdads Sing.” Seungmin hums, “Didn’t know you had taste,” You ignore him and turn the page.

He huffs and plops down in the seat next to you, his knee brushing against yours as he does.

You snap your head up and admit defeat, placing a bookmark where you left off.

“Since you so rudely interrupted me,”

He rolls his eyes in response to your complaint, “Here we go again,”

“Don’t give me that.” you snap, “You came over here unannounced while I was clearly doing something. So tell me, what is it that you want to brag about now? Hm? Perfect score on the English essay? No wait- I know, you’ve finally succeeded in ass kissing every professor in the building.”

The entire time you were ranting, Seungmin sat with his chin in his palm, face angled towards you. His grin never faltered, which in turn only pissed you off more.

You snap your book shut and move to stand before you feel a hand tug on your sleeve, forcing you to sit.

“I didn’t come over here to brag,” Seungmin readjusts in his chair so his knees are poking the side of your bare thigh, the sudden contact sending warmth throughout you.

“I was hoping we could- I don’t know. Maybe we could be at least civil with each other?.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and your eyes widen.

“C-Civil?” you sputter while searching his face for any trace of ulterior motives.

He nods and fidgets a little. That’s when you realize that he’s nervous.

Seungmin is anything but nervous when it comes to talking to you. He’s always confident while spewing whatever insults he can think of on the spot.

“I uhm- I think I owe you an apology.”

“Excuse me?” That’s not what you meant to say.

Though, you’re fairly certain that whatever you were going to say would’ve come out ten times worse.

“Yeah.” he winces, “Fuck- you know I’m bad at this kind of stuff,” Seungmin huffs and runs a hand through his blonde hair.

“I’m sorry for being a dick,” his broad shoulders deflate and he looks like a weight was literally lifted off of him.

“You’re sorry?”

“Will you stop repeating me?” he scowls.

You can’t help but giggle a little, he couldn’t last two minutes into an apology without looking or sounding annoyed.

“‘M sorry. I just,” you bite your lip to stifle another laugh, “I didn’t think I’d live to see the day that Kim Seungmin apologized for- well, anything.”

He grumbles something incoherently and pushes his knee farther into your thigh. You swallow hard and look behind him at the now very interesting bookshelf.

Seungmin sighs and gets up without another word and leaves. You watch as he rounds the corner and slips through the door.

“What the hell just happened,” you blink and whisper to yourself.

After his sudden apology, Seungmin has avoided you for an entire week now. He won’t even spare you a glance. You’re complaining about it to your best friend, Hyunjin, who also happens to be close with Seungmin.

Small world.

“Look, I don’t know exactly what happened but, like, could you maybe talk to him about it? He’s been killing the mood lately.” Hyunjin brings his iced americano to his lips while you form a bewildered expression.

“Me? You want me to talk to him?” you scoff and lean back in your chair, “Why should I have to? He apologized, I listened. End. Of. Story.”

“Why are you always so stubborn,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes, placing his coffee on the table.

“Ridiculous. Absolutely fucking ridiculous.” you huff and pinch the bridge of your nose. Hyunjin gives you an ‘are you serious’ look.

“If I let you put his number in my phone, will you shut up about it?” He grins and holds out his hand for you to give your phone to him. “And you’re buying me another coffee.”

[You] - cheer up

[Intellectual Demon] - who is this?

[You] - jinnie said that you’ve been a real downer since apologizing to me

[Intellectual Demon] - it’s not even that bad

[You] - i can feel the frown radiating off of you rn

[You] - it’s your aura.

Seungmin smiles to himself proudly. After all, it was his idea to get Hyunjin to give you his number.

Now all he has to do is convince you to meet with him. He’s got it all mapped out; you’ll meet with him at his place, he’ll confess, you’ll reciprocate his feelings and you live happily ever after.

The guy gets the girl, like he always does. It’s a simple, foolproof plan.

Right?

“Yeah, no thanks. I’m good.”

Wrong.

Seungmin was so wrong. Immediately after you pick up the phone he’s already hit with a groan and a ‘what do you want now?’ Nonetheless, he pushed through and asked you to go to his place. You declined, which shouldn’t have surprised him, but it does. Seungmin thought that if he apologized all would be forgiven and you would be more willing to speak to him.

Though, he can only blame himself. He fell-and crashed- first, hard. Instead of admitting his feelings to you, and himself, he tried his hardest to distance himself from you, making you find him unbearable to be around. It worked, of course.

Seungmin wishes it didn’t. He wishes he would’ve just grown a pair and told you. He wishes he didn’t feel so unlovable.

You, on the other hand, have attempted to make your attraction obvious. Someone can only take so much rejection, however. You stopped flirting, stopped even looking in his direction at one point. Seungmin made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing to do with you, and now that he’s apologized you can’t help but catch those feelings all over again.

“Please, just- what do I need to do for you to come here?” Seungmin’s voice echoes through your head, bouncing off the sides as you feel yourself slowly start to give in.

You seriously should stop being a pushover.

“Send me your address, I’ll be there soon.” There’s a pause at the end of the line when Seungmin mutes himself and screams into his pillow.

tags: @godslino @skzstarnet @anakin-sweetheart

dividers: @chaeneuu

#snowyquokka #skzstarnet #stray kids #skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz reader insert #skz reactions #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin #seungmin fic #enimes to lovers #skz seungmin #straykids seungmin

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itsbeeble · 1 year

Text

Sour

Summary: Your story began with sour candies, and it’ll end just the same

Genre: Smut, angst

WC: ~1.9k

Pairing: song mingi x afab!reader

Warnings: small smut scene, Mingi is horny tbh, hurt and no comfort, alcohol mentions (wooyoung is drunk)

ALL PARTS: pt 1: Sour | pt 2: Bittersweet | pt 3: Tangy | true ending | alt ending

Your story began in a convenience store, over a bag of sour candy. It was a Sunday night, the day before your finals began during freshman year of college. You’d shared a class together, Calculus, but never shared a word amongst each other. That night you in the convenience store had sparked…something. Something that even you weren’t quite sure about.

You’d been in your pajamas, just sweatpants and a sweatshirt with your hair tied back so you looked somewhat presentable to the public roaming the streets at the stroke of midnight. The straw for your half empty iced Americano rested against your lower lip, your eyes focused on the candies in front of you. He came up beside you, dressed in a tight black shirt and loose cargo pants, saying nothing to let you know he was there until he reached for a pack of sour gummy worms. His deep, gravelly voice startles you out of your thoughts.

“I say go for these,” he says, flicking the package before grabbing it off the shelf. “They taste good, not too sour and not too sweet.” You turned your exhausted gaze to the tall man with fiery hair and headphones half covering his ears. There was a small smile on his lips, one that offered little comfort to you.

“What if I didn’t want something sour?” Mingi just shrugs and begins to walk away.

“Up to you, really. I just figured I’d give you my opinion.” You follow him to the register, the same bag of sour candies in your hands. He glances down at you, his smile growing just slightly as the tired young cashier rings him out, and he waits for you while the cashier rings out your candy.

“Why are you up, anyway,” your fingers rip open that small blue bag easily while you two walk back to the dorm buildings.

“Studying, mostly.”

“Song Mingi?” You say in mock shock. “Studying? I never thought I’d see the day!” The taller boy laughs loudly, and you can’t help but laugh with him. It was true, though. In your class he always had his head down and the professor learned to just leave him alone during everything except exams, where he’d somehow excel. She didn’t need to know that you’d been leaving him a copy of your notes on his desk at the beginning of the next class all semester. In fact, he doesn’t need to know that either.

“Well, I never thought I’d see the girl who leaves me all of her very well organized notes stressing over a final that should be a breeze for her.” He counters, leaning down to you and nudging your shoulder. Your cheeks flush, and you turn your gaze away from him.

“You knew?”

“You do know that I was never actually asleep, right?”

“Coulda fooled me, Mingi.”

“I do appreciate it, though.” You look at him again, and he’s still looking down at you. His arm brushes against yours, but neither feel the urge to drift back away from each other. “I need to repay you, somehow.”

“It’s not a big deal.” You shake your head, and he hums.

You probably should’ve known it then. Should’ve known that getting mixed up with Mingi might not have been the best idea you’ve ever had. But fuck, if the way he fucked you didn’t feel like heaven on Earth.

The first time he fucked you, he had your back pinned against his chest, one of his feet planted firmly on his mattress, his hips pounding into you from behind. His hands pinched and tugged at your erect nipples, his face tucked into your neck as he sucked dark marks into your skin. Broken moans fell from your lips, your vision swimming with pleasure that built itself up and up, seeming to never stop. Your warm walls fluttered around his cock, squeezing him tightly every time he pulled his hips back only to thrust back into you harder and faster than he had been.

Your hair stuck to your skin, your hands flailing and reaching for something, anything to hold onto to ground yourself. One of your hands fell to his hair, gripping it tightly and forcing a low groan from his throat. He pulls away from your neck, lips finding your own and you can taste the hint of sour gummies on his tongue when you suck it into your mouth. You let him lick into your mouth, practically shoving his tongue down your throat with how furiously he kissed you, but you didn’t mind.

You probably enjoyed it a bit too much, his cock abusing that spongey spot inside of you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, one of his hands slipping down to play with your clit. The stimulation is enough to send you over the edge, spasming around him and crying out against his lips. His orgasm arrives soon after your own, thick ropes of warm cum spilling against your walls and spilling out of you while he continues to fuck you until the overstimulation becomes too much for you.

It becomes a regular thing for you both, fucking each other whenever you get the chance. You both have become…something that you can’t quite name. Not quite exclusive, but not fucking anyone other than each other throughout the next few years. It confuses you, to say the least, the fact that you’re both beginning your senior year in college and still don’t have a label.

Although now, as you sit with your body splayed across his lap and a bag of sour candies being shared between you two at a party neither of you could care less about and your fingers tangled in his bark hair, you can’t find yourself caring. Not when the kisses he places against your throat have your body thrumming with arousal. He doesn’t care that your friends are right in front of you, doesn’t care that Hongjoong keeps trying to get him to keep his hands to himself. All he sees, feels, hears, smells, and tastes is you. All he cares about is you, and the way you’re running your hand up and down his toned arm.

“You two,” Wooyoung slurs with a plastic cup in his hand. “Are kinda gross.” He squints at you, pouting when he notices that neither of you are really paying attention to him. Your peer over at him, an eyebrow raised as he stumbles to the couch and sits next to San. You feel your eyes starting to flutter when Mingi sucks at a spot underneath your ear, your grip on his arm tightening a bit. You feel him smile against your skin.

“Mingi,” Seonghwa’s voice is sharp. His eyes are narrowed as he looks at you both. Anger. Is that what the emotion is? The emotion in his eyes, his fists tightening at his sides. Yunho sits next to him, more uncomfortable than angry. “Can I talk to you for a second?” Your…lover? Friend? Partner? Whatever he is. He sighs against you, reluctantly pulling himself away from your skin and sliding you off of his lap to follow Seonghwa and Yunho further into the house.

That should’ve been your first warning for the night.

The second should’ve been Hongjoong’s pitying look toward you every few moments while you talk with Jongho about one of the classes you share, the excitement for your final year in college.

Your third and final warning, the one you listened to.

“I’m glad Mingi won the bet.”

All eyes turn to Wooyoung, the drunken man completely unbothered by his sudden declaration. There’s a mixture of emotions now. Confusion on your behalf, panic on everyone else’s.

“What?” Hongjoong tries to shush the younger boy, but he’s persistent.

“The bet!” He chirps. “You know, if Mingi got you to sleep with him, then he’d get $100 from each of us? Didn’t he tell you?”

It’s like the whole room goes silent. You feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You feel the horror and the realization setting in as you figure out what exactly Wooyoung just told you. What your friends had been hiding for so long. Though, could you really call them your friends now? Now that they’ve told you the truth?

Your eyes search the house for Mingi, and you find him already looking at you. You can’t read the emotions in his eyes, but you can see him gnawing at his lip and his eyebrows furrowing while Seonghwa yells at him about something. It makes sense now. Why he didn’t want to put a label on you two.

In hind sight, you should’ve seen it. Although, how could you have? He always seemed like a nice guy. Always helped you if you were struggling with something, always brought you those stupid fucking sour gummies. You were completely blinded by the idea of someone showing you true affection for once that you couldn’t see the pity behind his friends’ eyes.

“Y/N.”

You don’t turn around when he calls your name. His voice cracks and trembles when he speaks. You can’t help but scoff, but you put on a brave face before you turn around. You plaster a smile onto your lips, your wipe the tears away from your eyes and pray that you can hold yourself together long enough to talk to him and get out of there, to take your car and run far, far away.

“I’m sorry.” He takes a step toward you, but the step you take back makes his stumble and freeze in his place. His hands are shaking, a far cry from the confidence he always seems to radiate.

“It’s okay,” you force the words out, digging the nail of your thumb into your palm to keep the tears back. “I’m not mad.” You see him clench his jaw, see him start to stretch his hand out to you.

“You should be.”

“You’re right.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” The tears are starting to well up again and you take a deep breath, turning your gaze away from him. “At least you got a good fuck out of all this, you know?” The laugh you let out turns into a sob, and you put a hand over your mouth to muffle it, to try and calm your breathing enough to continue speaking. Mingi takes another step forward, and then another, grabbing onto your hand before you can get too far from him.

“That’s not— that isn’t why I did this!” You stare at him in disbelief.

“So why then? Why did you make the bet in the first place?” There’s no answer from him, and you bite down on your tongue. You pull your hand out of his grip, and he lets you walk away.

There’s a sour feeling boiling in your gut, and as soon as your car door shuts, you allow it to spill over. The sobs free themselves, and you let the tears run down your cheeks.

A breakdown. One you’ll have to handle on your own this time. No one to bring over snacks and drinks while you watch stupid movies and cuddle on your couch. No friends to fall back on when you need help. Nothing.

You’re back at the beginning again.

Alone.

#kpop #kpop imagines #kpop angst #kpop smut #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez mingi #ateez mingi x reader #itsbeeble #itsbeeble masterlist #song mingi #mingi smut #mingi imagines #song mingi imagines #song mingi angst #mingi angst

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oh2z · 3 months

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roommates. a jebe series

part pre one two three

summary: moving in with your (really attractive) uni friends..nothing too crazy can happen, right?

contents: plenty of suggestive/sexual content ! mdni read and tune in at your own discretion !!

word count: 2.1k (yay^^)

it was your fourth year of uni and you just transferred schools after a little incident happened last year that forced you to move. it was like a fresh start-- except you still had to go to class. (lol no shit)

you were angrily storming toward your first class of the day since you had already taken this class but of course, the credits didn't transfer so you had to retake it. huge waste of time.

you sat down in the closest desk to the door and tossed your bag on top of it, leaning back against the chair and crossing your arms in annoyance. you felt some eyes on you so you glanced over and caught a boy looking at your curiously. you normally would have snapped at him for staring, but he was pretty hot-- his messy brown hair fell over his forehead in his cute, slightly overgrown bowl cut and smiley eyes contrasted nicely with the sharp cut of his jaw and his large hands. you slid your eyes over him top to bottom, letting them linger on the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders. you looked back up at his face to meet his gaze and his eyes widened briefly before he looked away quickly, a little blush creeping onto his cheeks. you turn to front wordlessly, looking away from his with a small smirk on your face.

you had shown up to class hoping that this professor didn't have a strict attendance policy, and to your luck, he does. fuck. you rolled your eyes as your classmates passed the sign-in sheet around, and zoned out for the rest of class.

when the class was over you grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and headed for the door. you had forgot to get coffee beforehand, so you decided to head to the nearest cafe. you felt like someone was following you as you headed down the sidewalk and you threw a glance over your shoulder to see that same guy from class a few steps behind you. his big eyes widened when you looked at him and he looked away from you but you narrowed your eyes and stopped walking, waiting for him to catch up.

he looked like he was panicking, not sure if he should stop or pass you. "you following me?" you asked, tilting your head.

"no! i just... wanted to go get coffee before my next class," he said quickly.

you hesitated a moment, suddenly feeling silly for being on the offensive. "oh. i was going to get coffee too..i'mm kinda new to town and i get anxious in unfamiliar places-- should we have coffee together?" you offered. he blinked in surprise.

"oh! yeah okay sure!" the two of your began walking again, next to each other this time, and headed toward the coffee shop. you each brought your own drink and then you sat down together at a small table. you couldn't help but judge him a little for getting a fancy blended sweet coffee drink, while you had a black iced americano.

"so are you a music production major too?" he asked, sipping his drink.

"no, i'm taking this class as an elective. i'm kind of annoyed actually-- i already took it but the credits didn't transfer. i mean it'll be easy now, but it's still a bit annoying," you complained.

"oh. that sucks." he replied, frowning. you shrugged.

"it's whatever. you know what would make it better though?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"what?" he asked, sipping from his straw and blinking at you innocently.

"if you would write my name on the sign-in sheet for me if i'm ever not there," you replied sweetly.

"we're not supposed to do that though..."

you pouted, looking at him through your lashes and slipping a hand up to toy with the neckline of your shirt. "oh...i guess you're right. thanks anyway."

"i mean-" he said quickly. "it's just that i would have to know what your name was first before i could write it."

you smirked, then pulled out a small piece of paper and wrote down your full name, jotting your phone number under it. then you stood up and handed it to him. he read your name and then looked up at you when he noticed your number. he tilted his head as he read it again.

"your name is--"

"don't call me that," you cut, pointing at the paper. "i go by y/n."

"okay! y/n it is" he said quickly, his cheeks going pink. you had to stop yourself from continuing the conversation-- you were going to be late to your next class. and so you tore your attention away from him somewhat begrudgingly.

"text me your name," you said as you turned away, flashing him a smile over your shoulder as you left the shop. he watched you go with his lips parted slightly in shock and then quickly pulled out his phone, typing your number in and shooting you a text right away.

unknown: hi :0

me: who is this?

unknown: oh sorry lol

unknown: i was supposed to text u my name

unknown: it's taerae!

me: cool :)

you saved his number and then silenced your phone, not really caring if he had said something else after that at the moment. you shoved your hands in your pockets and headed to your next class.

you were sitting in the coffee shop working on an assignment from another class when your phone went off.

taerae: hey u comin to class?

you frowned at your phone. who the hell is taerae? you thought. you glanced at the clock, remembering which class your were skipping. oh! music production boy! a smile crept to your face at the thought of him again.

me: no i can't make it today

taerae: did you want me to sign the paper for you?

me: yes please!

you set your phone down and went back to work. about an hour later you felt someone standing over you and you pulled you headphones off and looked up. there was the boy from that class. you blinked at him.

"yes?" you asked. he sat down, sipping his fancy coffee and frowning his cute, pink lips pouting around his straw.

"you said you couldn't make it to class. i thought you were sick or something," he mumbled.

"yeah...what i meant was...i'm not going back to that class. it's a waste of my time." you mumbled back, returning your gaze to your laptop.

"oh. well...the professor assigned homework." he said, looking at you.

you groaned. "ugh, seriously?" you complained as he opened his backpack and pulled out his notes. he took a picture of where he had written down the assignment and set it to you.

"here you go " he said with a little smile.

"y/n-ie" you replied absentmindedly as you opened your phone to check the picture. he perked up a bit at the thought of calling you in a cuter way.

"i can call you y/n-ie?" he asked cutely. you looked up from your phone at him, unable to keep yourself from smiling a little at his happy face.

"hm? oh yeah. you're my music production class buddy, of course you can" you said. he grinned back.

"okay! well um...i'll see you later y/n-ie"

you were lying on your bed at home, tuning out the sound of your roommate slamming doors by cranking up the volume on your headphones. you had just finished up the assignment for your music prod. class and you sighed, thinking you had better go to class and hand it in the next day. unless...

me: hey

taerae: hi y/n-ie!!

me: can we meet up before class tmr? wanna see u :3

taerae: ofc just lmk!!

you were so tired and your roommate was really stressing you out. your really hated this apartment, but it had been the only thing available when you moved to town. you sighed and went to bed.

you sat at the cafe sipping your coffee and staring at your laptop, feeling stressed about your course load and your living arrangement. you had no way to get your stresses out these days, considering you knew no one in town and that your favorite stress relief activities were best done...with others.

you eyes slide to the door when taerae came into the shop, accompanied with another boy today. he was the same height as taerae, and something about his perfect skin, messy blonde hair, and sleeper-built body screamed daddy. the smiley brunette boy made you feel dominant, but his handsome friend made you feel small and as the two of them approached you, you shook your head against the warring sides of yourself, trying not to get overwhelmed.

they were talking as they came in and taerae seemed to look at his friend in awe, hanging on every word out of the man's mouth. taerae said something that made the other laugh and it took up his whole face. his huge smile make his eyes scrunch and flush appear in his round cheeks. it was nice to look at, and it seemed contagious as taerae smiled as well. he gave you a little wave and his friend glanced at your curiously before they got drinks. once they both had coffee-- taerae with his usual fancy one and his friend with a plain cup, they came to your table.

"hi y/n-ie! why did you want to meet?" taerae asked cheerily, sitting down next to you. his friend took the seat across from you and you couldn't help but glance at him only to find his dark eyes on your as well. something about the man's cutting gaze made you shy and you looked away quickly. digging in your backpack to avoid looking at him.

"i...wanted to give you this," you said. pulling out your assignment and handing it to taerae.

he looked at it for a second and then undersood. "oh, you want me to hand it in for you?" he seemed like he wasn't thrilled about the idea, so you turned your full attention to him, slipping your hand casually onto the table and placing your fingers lightly over his. he looked up at your in surprise at the tough, and you blinked your eyes at him quickly.

"please?" you asked him sweetly, letting your lips pout into a tiny frown as you did so. he swallowed and looked away.

"y-yeah sure," he murmured, a tiny blush on his soft cheeks as he took the assignment from you and tucked it into his notebook. your eyes glanced to his friend again and you caught him smirking and looking slightly impressed at your actions as you slowly retracted your hand from taerae's, trying to keep yourself from blushing under his gaze.

"thank you" you said, smiling.

"of course y/n-ie"

after class, you were still at the cafe, scrolling through your phone and ignoring the paper you were attempting to write. taerae shuffled back into the shop, looking annoyed.

"hey," you greeted him, setting your phone down. "what's up?"

"the professor assigned more work today. and i don't think i did the first one right anyway. i'm not getting this class," he mumbled, pouting.

"let me see." he passed you the notes and you pursed your lips. "i guess i could help." i remember this from last semester."

he perked up. "really?? do you want to come over and go over it with me this evening?"

he was cute. you smiled to yourself. "yeah, sure bub" you said.

he blinked at the affectionate name and then looked down shyl. he suddenly seemed to remember something. "oh yeah- um. i have six roommates so. sometimes my house is a little loud," he told you, cringing.

"well i live in a tiny apartment on campus and my roommate is literally crazy. so whatever you've got can't be that bad." you looked at him for a moment, remembering how flustered his friend had made you earlier. "hey that guy from this afternoon...."

"oh matthew? he's one of my roommates! he said you were cute when we left," he said wiggling his eyebrows at you. you felt yourself blush immediately and taerae burst into giggles at the sight. then he frowned, "i think you're cute too," he pouted.

you scoffed, your blush immediately fading. "you don't get to call me cute, you're the cute one" you told him, winking. now it was his turn to blush.

"w-wait you think i'm cute?" he asked, his eyes wide.

adorable, you thought. "whatever. text me your address." you said, right before trying to refocus on whatever you were just working on.

#zb1 smut #sung hanbin smut #kim jiwoong smut #zhang hao smut #shen quanrui smut #kim gyuvin smut #zb1 fics #kpop smut #zb1 hard hours #zb1 x reader #zb1 au #zb1 imagines #oh2z

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deliciousangelfestival · 16 days

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Café for Killers || 2 - Nick Fowler & Loki

Summary: In this café, where people usually enjoy their coffee, after 12 a.m., the actual customers arrive, posing a risk to the temporary owner's life as she works here.

Character: F!Reader x Nick Fowler x Loki

Chp 1, Chp 2 .-

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

'Ring.' The sound of your alarm woke you.

You grumbled and rubbed your eyes with your fingers. Grabbing your phone, you saw it was already 10 a.m. Your sleeping schedule had also shifted because of the café's late hours.

The café had already been opened by your morning shift employee, who also knew the true purpose of the café. But it was your duty to handle the midnight guests.

After a quick shower, you headed to the grocery store to buy ingredients. There would be five midnight customers tonight. Most of them were regulars, but one had a specific request. He liked anything with mint—mint chocolate cake, mint iced coffee, cold brew.

When you arrived at the café, you immediately started making the cake. Your hands moved swiftly and efficiently, mixing the ingredients, baking, and finally decorating the cake with a minty touch.

Once the cake was done, you continued with the night shift, taking orders from students, nurses, and other night owls. The café bustled with activity, but your mind was on the midnight guests.

'Clink.'

The bell on the back door rang, signaling that the special customers had arrived.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and carefully placed five drinks and the mint cake on a tray. With a determined expression, you carried the tray towards the private room, ready to face whatever the night had in store.

☠️

As usual, guards were stationed at the private room's door.

When you walked in, you saw that all the customers were already seated at their respective tables. But something was off. There were supposed to be five customers, but there were six. The unknown guest was sitting with regular, Nick Fowler.

Nick Fowler, according to the information from your uncle, was a CIA agent. However, he was actually a triple agent and a broker. Your uncle had even noted: "Don’t trust him."

“There it is. You’re worth the wait,” Nick said with a smile as he saw you come in with his favorite treats.

You nodded at him, noting how he always wore a nice suit to project the image of a gentleman. But you knew better; he was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Your eyes shifted to the woman with red hair seated beside him. Noticing your gaze, Nick explained, “She’s my ex, and we need to talk.”

You raised your eyebrows but didn’t say anything and left his table. If your uncle were here, he would have kicked Nick out for not mentioning he was bringing someone in his booking note. But you weren't your uncle. You'd probably be dead if you tried to kick Nick out of the café.

You moved to another table to deliver their drinks, then stopped at one in particular. This customer always ordered the same thing: a hot Americano.

He also always came on the same day. Professor Loki.

Handing him his drink, you observed him for a moment. His presence was as mysterious as his name suggested, and he always seemed to be deep in thought.

From his info, you learned that Loki is a nuclear physicist, mathematician, and, most dangerously, an expert in poison—especially snake venom.

He seems dangerous, but he’s the only customer who remains calm and acts like a normal patron. He opens his laptop and starts working, unlike other killers who clean their weapons while enjoying their coffee.

“Thank you, dear,” Loki says with a British accent.

You nod and finally leave. Tonight might be different from yesterday since most of the killers here tonight are in the calm category, unlike Lloyd.

You open your phone and decide to watch a series to pass the time. But then you hear something.

‘THUD!’

You run to the private room and see Nick already on the ground. He looks pale and is struggling to breathe.

The woman is already being detained by the guards.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, your heart pounding as you enter the scene.

Loki was already checking on Nick, his face calm and composed. He adjusted his reading glasses and examined the scene carefully.

“It looks like he’s been poisoned,” Loki said, his voice steady. “Most likely a mix of aconite and snake venom. We need to neutralize it quickly. Do you have any activated charcoal in your first aid kit?”

You nodded, trying to keep your panic in check. “I think we have that.” You ran to grab the first aid kit, your heart racing.

As you hurried away, Loki glanced at the woman who had been detained. “Mace, was it?” he asked, his voice carrying an edge of curiosity. He heard Nick say her name before he fainted.

Mace glared back at him but said nothing, her eyes filled with defiance.

Loki looked at Mace, his eyes cold. "You made a mistake coming here. It must have been Nick who invited you. Don’t you know attempting to murder a regular faces severe consequences?”

Mace glared at Loki with anger.

Loki chuckled. “Nick is a smart man. He also chose the same day I visit this café. He had it coming.”

Mace glanced at the door, realizing she had no way to escape. Her only hope was you.

“No,” Loki continued, reading her thoughts. “She can’t help you. She’s a sweet girl who doesn’t know all the rules of this place.” He went to his suitcase and picked out a syringe and a small bottle of liquid.

Mace's eyes widened, and she tried to scream, but the guards had gagged her. “Emrgh!”

Loki drew the liquid into the syringe. “It’s a new discovery from a snake I found in the Amazon,” he explained with a sinister calm.

He injected the poison into Mace's neck, his demeanor calm as he enjoyed his work. “If we let you leave, you would hold a grudge against this place. I can’t let you do that.”

Mace shivered, her body feeling hot and cold at the same time. She glanced at Nick, who was still struggling to breathe and cursed him for bringing her to this café. She had thought it was just a regular coffee shop. She never imagined it was filled with killers.

Slowly, she lost consciousness.

Just then, you appeared, carrying the first aid kit. “I found it,” you said, breathless.

Loki grabbed the kit from you and found the antidote for Nick. “He will live,” he said calmly.

You sighed in relief, then realized Mace was missing. “Where is she?”

“The guards are taking her to the car,” Loki replied, standing up and returning to his table. He continued his work as if nothing had happened.

The other three guests remained unfazed by the commotion.

You shivered and bowed slightly. “Sorry for the disturbance. I’ll bring snacks.” You hurried back to the front of the café.

Loki watched you leave, a chuckle escaping his lips. This was why he liked this place—a sanctuary for people like him, where there was no judgment.

Even though the urge to kill each other sometimes surfaced, it was the only place that fit people like him. And the bonus was having a cute, innocent barista like you. Seeing you trying your best to serve killers was amusing while clearly being scared.

He hoped your uncle would stay in the hospital a bit longer.

Who's going to be the next killer coming to the café?

You can decide which character and what skills they have by writing it in replies or reblogs.

#nick fowler x you #nick fowler x reader #sebastian stan character #nick fowler fanfiction #loki x you #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #tom hiddleston #loki laufesyon x reader

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profamer · 7 months

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Aprenda Inglês em Tempo Real online com Professor Americano #ingles #aprendaingles #professoramerican #esl #inglesonline #inglesparabrasileira #inglesemtemporeal

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#Aprenda #Cambridge #curso com professor americano #emtemporeal #ingles #online

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eoieopda · 6 months

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FORCE QUIT // EPISODE II: THE PROFESSOR

until now, hyunjin's never met a problem that subterfuge and violence couldn't solve.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader | series masterlist (2/4) | prev. episode | next episode series summary: it's 2077, and life's a fucking nightmare. corporate titans ate the state and shat it back out, leaving citizens of the new republic to fall in line or fall to their knees. a reckoning is coming — where will you fall? au: series — dystopian, cyberpunk; episode — secret relationship, star-crossed lovers ➢insp. by: cyberpunk 2077 + the true lives of the fabulous killjoys genre: angst + smut word count: 10.6k rating: 18+ — minors do not have my consent to interact. series warnings: violence (hand-to-hand, firearms, explosives), depictions of injuries (blood/bruising/burns), some characters have cybernetic modifications, class conflict + poverty, surprise - corporations are bad!, unethical medical/tech experimentation, self-indulgent references to non-skz idols, reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns. episode: above + recon!hyunjin, corporate defector!reader, hyunjin’s pov, minor time skips, reader has had cybernetic modifications (similar to plastic surgery + prosthesis) to change her appearance, reader’s current and prior hair/eye colors are described but they’re artificial(!!), reader is a fugitive, reader is smaller than hyunjin and can be/is lifted by him, hyunjin is a Charmer™️, shower sex, brief nipple play + fingering, implied unprotected p in v penetration. a/n 1: each episode features a different member x reader pairing, but the plot is linear, so you'd need to read them (in order) to get the full picture! you can sign up for the taglist to be notified of the next uploads. thank you to my beloved @sailoryooons for beta'ing this and @jihopesjoint for being my emotional support internet wife even though she doesn't stan skz. ily both endlessly! a/n 2: the smut isn’t long or particularly explicit because the plot is more important, sorry!

One of Hyunjin’s earliest memories is of his halmoni looking him dead in the face and calling him a phantom.

Cruel as it may have been, the superstition was justified. Even as a kid, Hyunjin existed in blind spots, floating through walls and picking up on all the whispers he was never supposed to hear. Never seen or spoken to, he was ever-present, nonetheless; and worse than that, he was seemingly omniscient, too.

Who the fuck wouldn’t be afraid of him?

Funnily enough, his halmoni is now the one haunting him. Careening into his late twenties, Hyunjin can still hear the slight rasp of her voice echoing in his ears, reminding him that he’s still stuck beyond some fucking veil. He may have the same beating heart and a pair of operable lungs he’s always had, but biology doesn’t change the facts.

For all intents and purposes, Hwang Hyunjin is a ghost.

As is usually the case, Hyunjin stands unnoticed in the doorway of the Hub with his expectant arms crossed. His gaze alternates between the face of his watch and that of Bang Chan, who sits completely unaware at his desk on the opposite side of the room. This game is one that Hyunjin’s been playing for years now, as sad as that is.

How long can he exist in plain sight without anybody plainly seeing him?

At least twelve minutes and seven seconds, according to his watch.

In all the time that his reconnaissance man’s been standing there, anticipating a reason for being summoned in the first place, Chan hasn’t looked up once. Whatever he’s preoccupied with involves furiously typing away at the screen in front of him and continuing to ignore the untouched coffee near his elbow. Like this meeting, that room-temperature Americano seems to be on the list of things Chan can’t find space for in his short-term memory.

It’s for the best, really.

Chan’s stress is baked into his hunched posture, and it’s so palpable that Hyunjin can feel it from the doorway. Adding caffeine to his system now may make him implode, setting off some cataclysm that can’t be stopped. That’s not a loss the Black Screen is capable of surviving, now or ever. And frankly, Hyunjin is maxed out on hauntings as it is.

Speaking of…

He glances down at his watch again, confirming that two more minutes have slipped by in silence. Though he’d love to see an organic end to his game, Hyunjin doesn’t have all night. With a forlorn sigh, he frowns and quips, “Maybe I should wear a bell.”

The Black Screen’s de facto leader all but jumps out of his skin, which is a reaction Hyunjin may never get tired of. There are a million practical benefits to his incomparable stealth, but this is far and away the best of them: scaring the piss out of people simply because he can.

To his credit, Chan doesn’t get angry the way most people do when they’re caught off-guard. His panic leaves him quickly, giving way to the patient smile he always manages to find. That expression is a wonder, as far as Hyunjin is concerned, given the massive burden Chan has undertaken at such a young age. It’s the sort of demeanor that Hyunjin’s only ever seen on overworked single fathers and, in a way, Chan is.

Except instead of adoring kids, he’s got a battalion of strays with a collective death wish, a severe caffeine dependency, and prematurely grey hairs popping up at his temples.

Pity.

“That’d kind of defeat the point, wouldn’t it?” Chan rubs his hand sheepishly over the nape of his neck to cover his embarrassment. As he does, he chuckles, “You’re an asset because you’re so fucking difficult to keep track of.”

Hyunjin appreciates the acknowledgment — he is an asset — but he’s never been good at accepting praise, so he merely shrugs and removes his frame from the door’s.

Crossing now to the disaster Chan calls a workspace, Hyunjin can’t help but marvel at the changes the room has undergone in just a few short years. It’s still hideous, having been a foreman’s office in a past life, but their low-rent war room is finally starting to live up to its name.

The Hub.

Mitochondria of their haphazard little cell.

Along the southernmost wall, the hastily boarded-up windows have since been formally blown out and built over by people actually qualified to handle the task — not by teenage anarchists wielding hammers, as was the case with the first attempt. In their place, various monitors take up the bulk of the surface area. Each one emits enough light to make the overhead fluorescents redundant, leaving them to go unused.

Hyunjin has to smother a laugh every time he glances between the two corners of that wall. One contains a station so immaculate that it feels illegal to glance at it with an unclear head. A fucking miracle, considering that it belongs to the most scatter-brained netrunner he’s ever met. Her various gadgets are meticulously stored and labeled, nary a wire out of place.

Maybe, he thinks, Spider is compensating for all that internal chaos with external organization.

The polar opposite occupies the other corner: Bang Chan’s stable mind and the goddamn mess of everything that feeds it. A fucking disaster belonging to the one person best equipped to prevent them.

If Hyunjin didn’t know to expect him there, he wouldn’t have seen Chan’s head peeking out from the certifiable mountain range of files. Schematics, dossiers, and maps clutter every surface to a suffocating degree, and yet there sits Chan, still breathing. Still typing away, as if the conversation they just had has already been deleted from his brain.

“You the only one keeping office hours these days?” Hyunjin wonders, gesturing vaguely to the quiet that threatens to swallow them.

Bang Chan’s scoff is the only indication Hyunjin gets that he was heard at all. It’s enough for him; the sound seems twice as loud without the others around to drown it out. To fill the void, he hums to himself, biding his time until he gets what he came for.

Wandering aimlessly around the room, his eyes trail over what little scenery he has left to take in — what would’ve constituted work stations, if the people they belonged to cared to use them.

Next to Spider’s vast assortment of equipment sits Minho’s desk, although the only thing on said desk are his knife-carved initials, an empty bottle of soju, and a broken pair of brass knuckles. Directly across from his anarchy, there used to be stations for the Black Screens’ weapon-smith, Seungmin, and mechanic, Jeongin — but both scrapped their respective shit for spare parts, to no one’s surprise. The only hint of their former presence there is carpeting that’s been ripped to shit and a few screws, too stripped to be of any use.

Hyunjin picks up one of them as he passes, firing it off with his non-dominant hand towards the trash can several meters away. It lands with a thunk against the existing garbage. He glances again at Chan, who has swapped out typing for massaging his temples. As usual, Hyunjin’s scores go unseen.

“Been at it long?” Hyunjin asks.

Chan actually looks up at him this time, blinking slowly while his brain catches up to the conversation.

“That eye strain doesn’t normally hit you until the six-hour mark.”

Chan nods. There’s a small smile on his lips that looks appreciative — like he’s grateful to be known so well. He gestures to the table at the center of the room and says, “Almost finished, man. You can sit if you want to.”

Table is a bit of a reach, Hyunjin thinks as he approaches it. That Formica monstrosity is held together by duct tape and sheer force of will. It’ll buckle if anyone around it blinks too forcefully.

Despite how truly heinous it is, he has a soft spot for everything that broken piece of furniture represents: all-nighters spent huddled over plans to un-fuck a state they had no part in destroying, long-forgotten family meals — at tables far nicer than this — sacrificed for a calling that beckoned them to leave home and never look back.

His own bed may be a stranger to him, but there’s a permanent imprint of his ass in his designated folding chair. It’s likely the closest thing to a home that he’ll ever know. When he lowers himself into it now, it groans under his weight despite him not weighing much at all. His arms cross nonchalantly and his legs do, too.

If he’s going to keep waiting, he’s going to be comfortable.

And he does wait.

And waits, and waits, and waits —

“Sorry about that,” Chan states abruptly, several minutes later.

Unlike Chan, Hyunjin isn’t easily surprised. He doesn’t flinch at the sudden sound of Chan’s voice. He waves dismissively instead, knowing full well that the leader wouldn’t waste his time on purpose. With a quick nod towards the chair at the head of the table, he invites Chan to join him; but Chan shakes his head, opting to stand nearby as he stretches his arms overhead.

Yawning through his words, he attempts to explain, “Been sitting all fucking day. My back is killing me.”

“Did you eat?” Hyunjin asks, catching the eldest off-guard once again.

The only response he gets is a grimace, so he reaches into the pocket of his jacket for the dalgona he managed to get his hands on. It only breaks his heart a little bit to toss it over to Chan, who lights up like a roman candle the second he sees it.

It’s always the little reminders of home that hit the hardest, isn’t it?

Chan rips open the packet the moment he catches it and freezes when the plastic wrapping no longer obstructs his view. There’s no humor to be found in his dry laugh, and Hyunjin understands why that is as soon as Chan holds up the snack. Dead center, there’s an outline of an umbrella pressed into the toffee.

“Speaking of Ulsan…” Chan sighs, all joy extinguished. Snapping it clean in half, he tosses a portion back to Hyunjin, who’s eager to sink his teeth into it for more reasons than one. Through his own mouthful, Chan mumbles, “Have you picked up any intel on this trial they’re running? I can’t even find a name —”

Hyunjin interrupts with a nod. “The Bliss Beta.”

His tone is casual because this shit is old news by now. More than that, he doesn’t want Chan to burn energy he doesn’t have on a spiral he doesn’t need to make. Someday, people will finally realize that Hyunjin is ten steps ahead of them.

Today, unfortunately, is not that day.

Chan simply gawks at him.

“I swung by Scraps’ apartment building last week to grab her shit, and I heard some drunks talking about it on the sidewalk outside,” Hyunjin states with a shrug. “I nicked a flier from one of their pockets on my way back here.”

“You know, you could’ve just talked to them,” Chan frowns disapprovingly. “You catch more flies with honey, or whatever.”

Leave it to Bang Chan to whine about prosocial behavior when he’s barely left the factory at any point in the ten years they’ve been holed up inside it.

Effectively a recluse, the only two people he’s spoken to outside of the Black Screen — Felix, a decade ago, and Changbin, most recently — were mere seconds away from joining up. And if that isn’t enough to disqualify his hot take, Hyunjin would like to note for the record that Chan founded — and actively leads — what’s been deemed a “terrorist organization” by the general public.

That has fuck all to do with honey — just subterfuge, violence, and a dream.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes but keeps the bulk of his exasperation to himself. After all, calling Chan a hypocrite won’t make him get to the point any faster.

“Eavesdropping got me nowhere. I’m not sure what I could’ve possibly gained from inhaling that liquor off their breath beyond a drunk and disorderly of my own.”

Before Chan can get a word in, Hyunjin continues his report.

“They’re marketing this beta exclusively in low-income neighborhoods, but there’s no indication of what these people are signing up for — only the amount of cash they’ll get if they consent to participate in the R&D.”

“So, we still don’t know what we’re dealing with,” Chan mutters dejectedly.

He stares off to the side as the gears in his brain turn; however, he doesn’t stay stuck for long. In a matter of moments, he begins to pace the length of the table, getting more worked up with every step. “Spider said their tech is a brick wall. It’s going to take a while for her to break through, if she even can.”

Hyunjin means it, so he says it with his whole chest: “She can.”

In the time he’s known her, Spider hasn’t met a code she can’t break. No person has ever been successful in keeping her out — up to and including Lee Minho, who has a cement-lined sarcophagus where his heart should be. If she doesn’t find a crack to slip through, she’ll fucking make one. She always does.

Trust like this is hard to come by in the life they’ve all chosen, but she’s earned Hyunjin’s.

She deserves Chan’s, too.

Brow furrowed, Chan looks back at Hyunjin. There’s something in his expression that he’s attempting to keep to himself — something he’s not allowing himself to say. Whatever he’s withholding, the fact that he’s concealing anything makes the hair on the back of Hyunjin’s neck stand up. A long, tense pause fills the space between them.

Hyunjin knows it’s hypocritical, getting frustrated by someone else’s refusal to open up. Someone who plays everything close to the chest shouldn’t be allowed to hate it when others do the same around him; but he does, and he’s seconds away from demanding that Chan spit it out already.

Chan must see it coming, so he intervenes to keep the younger man’s annoyance from boiling over. Gently lowering the temperature, he asks, “Hyunjin, do you have any contacts on the inside?”

The fact that Chan’s asking at all tells Hyunjin that the answer is already known.

Still, the head of reconnaissance looks his leader dead in the eye and responds flatly, without hesitation.

“No.”

Hyunjin is only ever able to make his way to you in the dead of night.

Though the location frequently changes, the preparation never does. He lays awake until he knows for sure that the rest of the compound is down for the night. When all he hears is snoring, he drags himself out of the bed he can never seem to sleep in.

Once he’s on his feet, whatever he’s wearing is quickly replaced with something that won’t stick out: nondescript black clothing, shoes with the tread and size label worn down beyond recognition, hood up, mask on.

You once joked that he looked like a jewel thief, all shrouded in darkness, and you were sort of right. Unfortunately for Hyunjin, there’s a fatal flaw in that comparison. He has to leave his prize behind every single time, doomed to return home empty-handed.

Tonight won’t be any different.

The front door rattles too loudly for his liking, creates a risk of questions being asked that he doesn’t want to answer, so Hyunjin utilizes the fire escape that abuts the westernmost wall of the factory. The late October air has left the metal rungs of that ladder so cold that they circle back to burning, but it doesn’t slow him down. Nothing ever does when it comes to you.

If anything, the pain drives him to pick up the pace. Him and his stinging palms make short work of the obstacle. Just as quickly, he hits the ground running towards the freestanding garage that sits to the east of the factory. Once he reaches it, panting slightly, he sets to work, going through the same old motions.

It doesn’t take long for Hyunjin to swap out his motorcycle’s license plate. He’s done it so many times by now that the task no longer requires conscious thought; just muscle memory and the desperation he feels to move as quickly as possible in order to reach you faster. The old plate hits the floor with a clang that’s still ringing out when he finishes affixing the new series of numbers to the back of his bike.

All these precautions are tedious bullshit, but failing to go through the motions is a surefire way to get the attention of private police. Simply put, Hyunjin doesn’t have the spare energy it would take to kill and bury whichever poor fucker attempts to cite him; nor does he have the heart to keep you waiting even longer than you have been.

Fuck.

How long has it been?

Suddenly rushing, he slings one, lean leg over the side of his bike and grabs the handlebars.

Too long.

The terrain is a thousand times harder to navigate in the dark, all divots and ditches along the winding side roads. Still, the threat of losing control of his ride is far less severe than that of betraying the compound’s location; or worse, the Black Screen’s presence anywhere, at all.

So, like always, Hyunjin stomachs the barely-sufferable thrashing and keeps the headlamp off until he makes it to the main road. Even then, he flies a kilometer or so into pitch black before he feels comfortable enough to light the way.

He doesn’t know how many kilometers he’s driven in total just to keep you, but if he had to guess, he’s cracked quadruple digits.

Worth it.

You can’t stay in one place for long enough to put down roots. The time you do stay put varies, never following a pattern. Daegu for eight weeks, then to Anyang for three, Namyangju for five…

Busan, he thinks to himself as he reaches the expressway.

Busan was the last place he held you, a month or so ago. Some shitty little apartment near the docks, where the ceiling leaked over your bed and made a fucking mess of things. Nothing could be done to fix it without calling too much attention to you, but it didn’t matter; he fucked you on the living room floor, and you slept like a baby against his chest, bed be damned.

He hasn’t felt rested since.

The drive from Changwon to Busan takes thirty-five minutes, if Hyunjin recalls correctly — he always does — and it burns him up to know that the trip would take half that time if he could drive as fast as his heart races.

But he can’t.

He won’t, not when a traffic stop could ruin both your lives. It feels like crawling, abiding by limits.

And fuck, he’s sick to death of those.

As he drives, the rubble eventually gives way to a proper cityscape. The neon signs of Busan bleed out into the dark, so hazy in the smog that the words themselves are lost. It’s only color — sharp reds and blues — not substance that offsets the inky black. The massive buildings that those signs are affixed to stab upwards into the sky until their tops disappear, like they don’t ever stop at all.

Still, despite the seemingly endless interiors around him, Hyunjin sees houseless people everywhere he looks. It’d be more comfortable to look away as he winds down side streets to your last known location, but he doesn’t. Even though he has nothing else to give them, he can spare the courtesy of acknowledging that they exist.

Nobody else does.

Every time he raises a hand off the handlebars to wave at someone, they wave right back. Just for a second, he forgets that the city isn’t always unkind. It’s a feeling he’d bottle if he could, the little glimmer of hope.

When Hyunjin reaches the docks, he parks his bike behind a boat house and heads on foot from there. Up the sidewalk, around the block to the back entrance to your apartment. The rational half of his brain knows you won’t still be there; the lovesick half doesn’t care. It signals his heart to beat faster with every step, damn close to breaking through his chest when he picks the lock and pushes the door open.

The four flights of stairs between him and your place are taken two steps at a time, not only due to his eagerness but the shitty construction. Even the steps he deems safe enough to touch creak beneath his weight, like they’re screaming at him for the intrusion. He ignores it, and soon enough, he’s outside your door.

This time, Hyunjin doesn’t need to pick the lock. Your door is open. Everything that used to be behind it is gone.

He presses his palm against the center of his chest, glances down, and mutters, “Told you so.”

With you and your few earthly possessions absent, he’s left to a scavenger hunt — finding some hint of where you’ve gone next. You’re far more creative than he is, which makes this part even harder.

As bitter as the necessity makes him, he’s thankful for the amount of times he’s had to do it. Practice has made him the tiniest bit smarter. Now, he spots the empty bottle sitting on a windowsill, and he doesn’t immediately assume that it’s trash.

Hyunjin jogs over to it and picks it up, grinning instantly.

“Gyeongju beopju,” he murmurs as reads the label aloud. Then, knowing full fucking well that you can’t hear him, he says it anyway, “You beautiful genius.”

Only one question remains, and it’s the hardest one to solve: where in Gyeongju?

For good reason, you can’t leave an address floating around. That fact doesn’t appease the frustration creeping up from his stomach, transforming into a groan on its way out of his mouth. With an exasperated breath, he lets his hand drop, though he maintains his grip on the bottle. It’s damn near inaudible, but there’s a muffled sound within it as it jostles in his grip.

The fuck?

Seeing no other option, Hyunjin screws off the cap. On the inner part of that metal, he finds a strip of double-sided tape and nothing else; whatever you stuck to it must’ve been shaken loose.

Beautiful, perfect genius.

He tilts the bottle upside down with his free hand ready to catch what falls: a ripped-up piece of paper, rolled up like a scroll. There, written in your neat script, is a lead — 8793 & 2441, which he assumes designates the street address and apartment number. Directly below those, you’ve written “red”, which he doesn’t know what the fuck to make of.

One way or another, he’ll figure it out.

The race to Gyeongju swallowed another hour of his time. Midway through the second leg of his never-ending journey, the sky opened up. Rain came down in sheets so strong that he almost gave up, which isn’t a decision he would’ve made lightly. He didn’t — thank god — because the downpour started to peter out around the time he crossed the city limits.

Now, idling off to the side of the road in the city’s center, he’s soaked and thoroughly chilled to the bone, but at least he can see.

Capitalizing on his newly unobstructed vision, Hyunjin fishes his mobile out from the zippered pocket of his jacket. The leather glove adorning his right hand is shoved back into that empty space. He rapidly thumbs through applications, eyes scanning just as fast until he locates the navigation. To avoid any unwanted attention, he keeps the screen confined to the glass, rather than projecting it into the space in front of him.

A quick search through the city’s most recent map gives him three locations with “8793” as the street number. One possibility is ruled out immediately when he zooms in on the satellite image and finds a vacant lot. The two remaining results both appear to be high-rise apartment buildings, both of which could be this month’s pit stop. Notably, neither building is red, nor does the color feature in either of the street names.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself.

Once again, he swaps his mobile and glove, then hastily stuffs his fingers back into the latter. With a sigh, he sinks back down onto his bike and makes to leave for the nearest of the two possibilities. It’s not until he reaches the intersection that the realization hits him.

You live your life on the outskirts.

There’s simply no way that you’d pick a place so close to downtown.

Disregarding the blaring horns and shouted obscenities, he makes an illegal turn to reposition himself on the opposite side of the road. It’s for the best that no one he cut off can hear him laughing over the roar of his engine. All their rage is drowned out by the screech of his tires as he peels the fuck out of there.

Five more minutes slip away while he speeds off to the northeast side of town. Thankfully, when he locates what he presumes is your building, your final hint begins to make some fucking sense.

Around the block sits a bar with boarded up windows, tiny fragments of glass still littering the sidewalk where a break-in must’ve occurred at some point in the recent past. On a hunch, Hyunjin looks up at the street lights framing the exterior of The Red Door. His suspicion is confirmed immediately.

The CCTV cameras covering the area were smashed to shit, along with the bar’s windows.

You were giving him a safe place to park. Damn near throwing his bike down in the process, he stumbles off to your building, muttering as he goes, “Beautiful, perfect, considerate genius.”

Hyunjin ages forty years in the time it takes the elevator to drag him up to the twenty-fourth floor.

When he finally steps out and the doors close again behind him, force of habit checks for any people or cameras that may have eyes on him. Finding none, he whirls back around to face the closed, metal doors behind him. Frozen fingers tug at the black, cloth mask that sits over his mouth and nose until his face is fully visible.

It’s reckless and melodramatic — he’ll openly admit to being both of those things — but he needs to see it to believe that he still looks as young as he did when he entered the car in the first place. Oh, thank god. Drenched and windswept as he may be, he finds some amount of solace in the absence of wrinkles.

With the mask secured again over his features, he heads off in the direction of apartment 2441, praying to anyone listening that he didn’t fuck this all up along the way. His brain can’t hold a candle to yours; and this certainly wouldn’t be the first time that he got so caught up in thinking like you that he missed the mark completely.

After wandering down a hallway far fucking longer than it seems, he reaches the door he’s been seeking. Despite the anxious fluttering in his stomach, Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate; he immediately lifts his arm to grab hold of the knob. It pulls away before he can even wrap his hand around it, leaving him frozen on the doorstep with his pulse hammering in his ears.

Transfixed, he watches the splinter of light on the floor grow wider until his curiosity wins out. A quick glance upward reveals an occupant he’s never laid eyes on before, but he doesn’t have the opportunity to study them fully. Through the narrow gap, fingers far warmer than his own encircle his wrist and pull him through the opening. Behind him, the door closes again so quietly that his stumbling drowns out the sound.

Opting to ignore his surroundings for the time being, Hyunjin tilts his head curiously to the side and stares straight ahead. No matter how many times his gaze sweeps over the person in front of him, he finds absolutely nothing familiar.

Not the irises, not the hair, not even the bone structure.

He arches an eyebrow. “Impressive timing, opening the door before anyone even knocks.”

“Were you planning on knocking?” His expression is reflected right back at him. “Since when is that a thing you do?”

Grinning wolfishly, he turns his wrist to capture the hand still holding onto him. All it takes is a gentle tug to eliminate the distance. As if it’s a reflex, two hands reach up to the mask obscuring the lower half of his face, carefully ushering the fabric down until it pools around his neck.

“How’d you know it was me?” He asks, genuinely curious.

Nobody manages to notice him when he’s standing in the same room, let alone through a door with no peephole. His measured steps never make a sound, either, which makes it all the more insane that his presence was sensed before he intentionally gave himself away.

Arms loop around his neck and pull him closer as feet push up on tiptoe.

“I could ask you the same question.”

Hyunjin’s answer — that he would know you anywhere, that he could find you in the dark with touch alone — is eerily close to the one he receives.

“A sixth sense,” you chirp.

Though everything else about you has changed since he last saw you, that voice is the common denominator. It strikes a chord deep in his chest, plucking his heartstrings masterfully in a way only you can. The sound is so much better when it’s not looping hopelessly in his head; when it slips through lips finally close enough to kiss.

So, that’s exactly what he does.

There’s no word Hyunjin can think of to describe the desperation behind his movements — at least, not in any language he’s ever heard. He lifts and you jump, and your fingers are threading through his hair with an identical, insatiable need to be closer before your body even settles fully in his arms. Like your legs around his waist, your mouth opens up for him, sighing softly into his when your lips crash together.

He can hardly catch his breath, but he doesn’t give a shit. Air in his lungs isn’t worth half as much as your tongue licking into his mouth. Gripping the soft flesh of your thighs and letting your weight warm his palms is more than enough to keep him alive. Hyunjin clings to you, and it hits him then — so forceful and sudden that it almost knocks a tear loose:

He’s not a ghost when he’s with you.

Clinging to him as closely as you are, you notice the way he shivers. Every article of clothing on him is rain-drenched and chilled to the touch; his eagerness doesn’t make him tremble any less.

You break the kiss. A concerned frown takes his place on your lips. “Cold?”

He nods, bumping the tip of his nose against yours affectionately in the process, silently begging for you to kiss him again. You lean away and leave him no choice but to frown, too, albeit much less cutely than you.

You’re quick to soothe. You glance over your right shoulder towards a hallway he can’t see the end of. When you turn your head back around to him, a coy smile lights up the dark.

“A hot shower might help,” you suggest. You tilt your head to the side, as if there’s anything either of you really need to consider here. “What do you think?”

Hyunjin thinks carrying you off towards the bathroom answers your question well enough.

With how feverishly you kiss him, he’s effectively flying blind, moving as quickly as he can while trying not to stumble. He has to keep one arm off you, extended, to prevent a collision; but he eventually reaches his destination. A measured kick opens the half-closed door far enough to move your bodies through it.

The same arm that guided him to the bathroom swipes uselessly over the wall in an attempt to find the light switch without turning his head. You seem to sense his struggle, pulling away kiss-bitten to handle the task yourself.

It’s then that Hyunjin truly gets to drink in the sight of you, radiant despite the flickering fluorescent overhead.

It’s then that his heart truly starts hammering away in his chest, pumping so eagerly that he finds it hard to hear you say, “You need to let me go.”

He knows you’re referring to his hold on you now, which keeps you from reaching down to the shower handle. Those words sting, nonetheless.

“We’ve got a good thirty minutes’ worth of hot water.” You slip through his hands and immediately push up onto your toes to kiss him again, like you know exactly where his train of thought has gone. “Then, I’ve got a warm bed under a leak-free ceiling.”

For how long, though?

Hyunjin shakes his head to knock those thoughts out of the way. He refuses to spend another second thinking about anything else. For now, he’s here.

He’s with you — beautiful, considerate, genius you — and you’re glancing over your shoulder at him as you check the water’s temperature on the back of your hand, smiling with your eyes alone. With a built-in fondness that never changes, even if the eyes themselves do.

“Coming?” You chirp. You flick water at him to wake him from the trance he’d fallen into while watching you.

Hyunjin raises his eyebrows quickly then drops them, eyes sweeping over your body and making you shiver on instinct. “At least once.”

You want to roll your eyes — he knows you do — but you’re too flustered. You’re always so easy to play with. So shy that you pinch your bottom lip between your teeth when you reach out to help him shrug his jacket off his shoulders.

With a muffled thud, wet leather hits dry tile. Shirts, shoes, and all the rest of the tangible barriers between you fall by the wayside. The two of you resettle within the steam of the shower, and his hands revel in your softness the second they can.

He kisses an apology into your bare shoulder for the shock his cold fingers press into your waist. Yours, perfectly warm, thread through his already wet hair.

Somehow, it’s your touch that sparks a shiver.

“Missed you.” Your eyes flutter shut as his lips travel nearer to your neck. “I still do,” you amend, breathless by the time his mouth reaches your pulse point. How a heartbeat can feel like home, he’ll never know. “I’m never not missing you.”

Hyunjin’s palms follow the curves of your waist down to your hips, grip solid as he pulls you flush against his chest, kissing up the column of your neck until your head tips back. You’re in the perfect position to gaze up at him when your eyelids finally find the strength to stay open.

“Have I ever told you what I think about?” He murmurs. His hands dip further down to caress your perfect ass, massaging the flesh with both hands until he works a quiet whine out of you. “When I want you but can’t have you?”

Your pupils dilate so fast that it’s almost comical. Hyunjin lets a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He lets his eyes drift, too, so he can watch rivulets of warm water streak down your chest. Halfway to hypnotized, he speaks in a low, reverent tone:

“Think about holding you so close that I can feel your nipples start to peak.”

Experimentally, he raises his hand and flicks his thumb over one. It glides easily — slippery when wet — and you love the sensation, judging by the way you gasp.

When he moves towards you, you seem to anticipate where he’s headed next. You inch backwards until your spine rests against the shower wall, shivering slightly against the chill.

“I picture you writhing in my arms, pinned to a wall just like this one.” Left palm flat against the tile near your head, he cages you in, tilting his head down so that his forehead touches yours. “Your fingernails pressing crescents into my shoulders, your legs wrapped around me.”

You whimper, right on cue, when his right hand drops.

“Spilling all those sweet little sounds of yours right into my ear.”

The knuckle of his index finger traces a straight line down, down, down your stomach. Your breath catches in your throat because he keeps going, finds you with his fingertips, wet and wanting.

“Hyunjin,” you plead, voice barely loud enough to overpower the drum of water landing at your feet.

He ducks his head, lips now close enough to your ear that they touch while he whispers, “Will you let me?”

You gasp when Hyunjin’s middle finger begins to swirl over your clit.

“Can I show you?”

Though he’s better at hiding it than you, his ministrations have him fucked up, too. His cock hangs heavy in the minimal space between you; his whole body begs for yours and yet, when you nod, he limits himself to one digit. Your arousal coats that finger like gloss in the second before it slips inside of you.

You’re boneless, but you manage to wobble off from the bathroom towards your bedroom, nonetheless. As you do, you pull your half-damp hair up into a crooked knot at the top of your head, unintentionally leaving tendrils behind. They cling to the wetness of your shoulders, not budging a millimeter despite your movement.

Hyunjin pads along behind you, and he can’t help but smirk. You clung to his shoulders the exact same way, only letting go when the hot water and your shaking legs gave out simultaneously.

Like you can sense his smugness, you look back at him. You don’t call him out the way he expects. Instead, you smile sheepishly. “It’s bleeding, isn’t it?”

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “It’s what?” Frantically, his wide eyes dart across your exposed skin for some injury he must’ve missed. Something he must’ve caused. There are old scars, sure, but nothing fresh to tip him off. “Is what — ?”

“The dye!” You amend quickly, gesturing over your shoulder.

This clears up his panic but not his confusion.

Chuckling softly, you turn back around with a shake of your head and continue your steps towards the dresser at the far side of your room. Your explanation continues as you go.

There’s no condescension in your expression or tone — there never is — but Hyunjin thinks it’d be warranted. You know more than he could ever hope to about a million different things, all of which he’d willingly pay tuition costs to learn about.

It’s simple, it’s sweet, and it’s effective.

“Hot water opens up the cuticle of the strand and flushes the color out. Red molecules don’t penetrate as deeply — they’re the biggest — so they wash out super easily, unfortunately.”

You frown again and tug open the middle drawer, mumbling about your poor white towels while you root through your limited selection of clothing.

He’s so fond of you that he really might drop dead, so he jokes his way around it, doesn’t speak the quiet part out loud.

“Shit. You spoil me, Professor.” Hyunjin whistles, genuinely impressed and only slightly devilish. The unexpected noise prompts you to look up at him again with startled eyes. “First, the shower sex, now a chemistry lesson —”

He has to cut himself off to catch the sweatpants you hurl at him. The interruption doesn’t wipe the teasing look off his face, though; and it certainly doesn’t distract from the flustered look on yours. You try like hell to hide his effect on you, but it only gets worse when he swaps out the towel hanging low on his hips for the clothes you’ve given him.

After shooting you an impish grin, Hyunjin twirls around, if only for the split second it takes him to drop himself into your bed. And fuck, just like every other time, he wonders how either of you ever manage to leave it. Here in your sheets, it’s all weightless — your joint baggage, the world’s expectations, the thousand things neither one of you can say out loud.

“Must be sore from the drive,” you hum. “Tired, too.”

Hyunjin can’t remember a time when he wasn’t.

The urge he feels to close his eyes and bury his face in pillows that smell like you is overwhelming. That familiar floral perfume of yours calms him so quickly and completely that he could fall asleep in an instant. Really, that’s exactly what he’d do if the clock wasn’t running, but it is, and he knows better than to waste the limited time he gets to spend staring up at you.

So, he just says, “I’ve never felt better,” because all of these things can be true at once.

You’re too focused to notice him watching you, but Hyunjin doesn’t mind. While you rummage around for the shorts that pair with your short-sleeved, button-up pajama top, he commits the current state of you to memory.

It feels like a moral duty, filling up his brain with as many mental snapshots as possible. After all, this version of you will be gone the next time he sees you. You and all your iterations deserve to be remembered, even if Hyunjin is the only one alive who can do it. Unfortunately, there’s a blank space in his scrapbook. A piece of your story he’ll never be able to speak to, and it comes right at the start of it.

One of fate’s cruelest twists is that he didn’t get to meet you — the original, anyways — before your survival became contingent on reinvention. By the time he stumbled into your life, you’d already done your best to destroy all the evidence of who you used to be; burned up your past with a box of matches until no trace was left.

And even if photos did still exist of who you used to be, it’d be too dangerous for you to possess them. For over a year now, you’ve been running from your past, hopping from city to city and modifying your appearance with every move.

As physically and mentally taxing as those procedures must be, they’re necessary. A single slip-up would cash in that price on your head. Considering the role you used to occupy, that would be a massive payout. It’s a safe assumption to make that the interest only compounds further with every day you evade them.

To Hyunjin’s knowledge, you’re the only Ulsan defector to last this long on the outside. It’s virtually impossible for ex-employees to escape at all with their memories still intact; even less likely that they’ll evade the bounty hunters that come next. After that, it’s only a matter of time — not if, but when they’re discovered — until Ulsan’s retention team comes calling. Their luck runs out then, if they ever had any to begin with.

Worse, their subsequent deaths aren’t even a blip on the general public’s radar.

Absolutely nobody bats a fucking eye at deaths by “natural causes”. And thanks to iron-clad non-disclosure agreements, nobody knows that the trail of corpses are connected in the first place. By design, the string that ties their bodies back to a common employer is invisible.

Knowing what life would be like otherwise, most don’t even attempt to flee. Understandably, they give in to the cleanse when their employment is terminated, one way or another. They live the rest of their lives without so much of an echo of their time at Ulsan.

You’ve been slipping him intel about the corporate experience since he met you, but Hyunjin has never asked about yours. Speaking any of it out loud feels like a summoning spell. Like saying that name in the mirror three times will invite your demons in.

“I miss the blue, I think.”

Hyunjin props himself up on his elbow, frowning. You finish buttoning that soft, silk top of yours and shuffle over to join him, melting into his side the second your body slips under the comforter.

He counters, “The red looks just as good,” and kisses the top of your head to emphasize his point.

You wiggle enough to look up at him with your nose scrunched thoughtfully. “I thought you liked the black best.”

This time, there’s a tiny bit of crookedness in the bridge of your nose like it’s been broken before and didn’t quite heal right. That attention to detail — creating lived-in features that haven’t actually been lived in — is probably why you’ve lasted this long. Anyone else that goes under the knife as often as you tends to seek perfection, not realism.

Funny how the choice that sets you apart is what lets you blend in.

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, looks you dead in your newly hazel eyes, and he says nothing about the fact that they were most recently green. “I like them all best.”

This, like any compliment, immediately makes you shy. Before he can blink, your face is buried in the crook of his neck, warming him from the outside in. You mumble something against his skin that he can’t quite catch. You must know it, too, because you reposition yourself to free up your mouth.

“You’ve finally stopped shivering,” you note before leaving a solitary, soft kiss on the side of his throat.

He nods to the best of his ability. “Sufficiently thawed.”

You glance up at him at the same moment that he looks down at you. It’s written all over your face — don’t you dare — but Hyunjin always does, doesn’t he? And he always will, so long as your eyes keep going wide like this.

“Can’t say it was the steam that did it, though. I think you fucked the chill right out of me.”

The tiny groan you let go of gets lost under the playful smack of your hand against his chest. You put no pressure behind it whatsoever — he didn’t feel a thing — but he gasps, nonetheless. His head crashes back against the pillows; his eyes fall shut. And because he’s a little shit before he is anything else, he goes slack-jawed, tongue hanging limply from the corner of his mouth.

“You might be the most dramatic person that’s ever lived. You know that, right?”

His reply comes like a death rattle. It’s automatic, it’s ominous, and there’s no taking it back now:

“Truly unfortunate that you have to be loved by me, of all people.”

That admission has been a long time coming, but Hyunjin has tried to hold it back for the same reason you have. For the same reason you don’t say it back now, even though he feels it seep into every other word. Calling this what it is — love — is a promise neither one of you can keep.

It’s the worst thing he could’ve said to you because he can’t act on it; and it might be the worst thing you’ve ever heard, so you just return to your spot, nuzzled into his neck.

“Tell me what I’ve missed.” You deflect, lips tickling against the spot just below his ear. “What are you all up to?”

Hyunjin used to wonder why you wanted to know every mundane detail about his and his comrades’ daily lives — boredom with your own or genuine interest? Now, he doesn’t bother splitting hairs. It’s both, and he has no fucking business passing judgment. Without a community of your own, you deserve whatever pieces of his that he can give.

“Well,” Hyunjin sighs, fingertips drawing nonsense shapes on your back. With his prints burned off, they glide especially smoothly over the silky fabric of your pajama top. Yet another bonus. “Got some new blood right after I saw you last. One of them was a childhood friend of Felix’s, and she’s — uhh — a little rough around the edges.”

Your little chuckle makes him shiver.

“He loves her, though — like, truly, madly, deeply loves her — so, I think he’s uniquely capable of refining her enough to be useful.” He pauses for a moment to consider whether or not he wants to say it. In the end, he can’t stop himself. “It’s nice to see him happy. That shit’s so rare, living the way we do. He deserves it.”

“Hyunjin, so do you.”

This time, he doesn’t say what he wants to.

He doesn't ask you to run away with him, knowing damn well that it’s even more dangerous to try than to stay. Neither of you would willingly leave loose ends, anyway. There’s too much left to be done, and all of it comes before his own happiness. It always has.

He doesn’t ask you to come back with him, either. As much as he wants to offer up the Black Screen to keep you safe, there’s no guarantee that they could. You’d only turn him down if he tried, remind him that your proximity makes the target on their heads even bigger. Hyunjin suspects that this isn’t your only fear, however.

Trust is a luxury you can’t afford; and it’d cost a lot of it for an ex-corp to cross the line in the sand. If you did, you’d be walking into a collective hell-bent on destroying the entity you used to associate with — into a factory full of mercenary anarchists, not many of whom make the best listeners. Your story might fall on deaf ears; or worse, breed suspicion about your motives.

It’s all fucked, top to bottom.

After another pause, Hyunjin responds with a truth so unattainable that it feels like a lie. “Someday,” he murmurs. “When this is all over.”

If that time ever comes.

“Are you close?” Your question surprises him because you almost sound hopeful, which isn’t a word he’d ever previously thought to associate with either of you. You mistake his stunned silence for misunderstanding, so you clarify, “To a plan, I guess.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say next, so he takes your hand from where it rests on his stomach and pulls it up to his lips. They brush over your knuckles slowly, a failed attempt to avoid the inevitable.

He’s never — not once — asked you about Ulsan. It’s the last thing he wants to do, tearing away from the limited time he gets to exist with you out of context, but he can’t think of any other way around it now.

What if this is the only way to someday?

When he stalls, you excavate yourself from his side and prop yourself up on one elbow to assess him. It’s more concern than anything else, the gentle way in which you look at him. If only it didn’t make him feel more guilty. If only it didn’t cause his question to stick in his throat on its way out, forcing him to clear it.

“Have you ever heard of the Bliss Beta?”

It must stun you to hear it because you freeze solid.

Fuck.

He shouldn’t have done this. He shouldn’t have brought it up, should’ve kept his fucking mouth shut, but it only spills out faster:

“Ulsan is running some clandestine clinical trials for something called the Bliss Beta. It’s —”

“— I know what it is,” you interrupt quietly.

“You do?”

You pause. There’s something unreadable in your expression that he’d normally guess after; you don’t give him the opportunity. You state it slowly. Cautiously. “I made it.”

Hyunjin is the frozen one now.

If he could make himself move, he might leave and never look back. But some persistent part of him refuses to run, refuses to accept that you truly had anything to do with the horror show wreaking havoc in neighborhoods just like this one.

If you did — if Hyunjin can force himself to swallow that truth — then he may as well fall off the grid right here and now. There would be no coming back from that, not for him.

Please tell me you’re still the person I think you are.

“It’s also what made me leave,” you explain softly. “What they wanted to do with it, I mean.”

Hyunjin’s hand is still limp around yours, so you take yours back into your lap. For a moment, you say nothing, only fidgeting with the rings around your fingers. When you finally do speak, your voice is so quiet that he has to strain to hear it, even sitting as close to you as he is.

“Ulsan was putting all its resources into cyberware, but none into addressing the side-effects. I was naive enough to think that I could change that.” You shake your head, letting out a humorless laugh. “I applied in the first place because I wanted to find a way to treat cyberpsychosis. All of these people are replacing every single part of their biological bodies with extremely powerful, inorganic materials…”

Your voice trails off at the end as a grimace takes over. Even though your features are different now, that subdued look of utter hopelessness in your eyes is the same. He could pick it out of a lineup if he had to.

“It’s such a slippery slope, Hyunjin.” You exhale, voice tinged with a sadness he can’t fully understand. “When you fuck with a person’s reality to that extent, that recklessly, and add in the kind of omnipotence that comes with all of these modifications... They lose themselves in it.”

The sort of people you’re talking about feature heavily on the news due to the horrendous acts of violence they’re caught committing, but no network dares to show the kind of empathy for them that you currently are. They only show the squads of WraithCo. goons it takes to neutralize them — a sterile, media term for “shot like a dog in the street”. Try as he might, Hyunjin can’t recall a single one of these stories that doesn’t end in state-sanctioned murder.

He looks up from your hands in your lap to your face, seemingly catching you by surprise. To his surprise, your eyes are swimming.

In all the time he’s known you, you’ve never cried — not about the state of the world or the shitty cards you’ve been dealt, time and time again. Until now, Hyunjin wasn’t sure if you could cry. It always seemed safe to assume that you’d either given up or forgotten how. Modified your way around the process, maybe. Cut the flow to the faucet in the course of your renovations.

Reflexively, he takes your hand back in his and squeezes once to ground you. Maybe it’s stupid, but he prays that some part of you will light up the way it normally does when you have the opportunity to educate him about something new.

His favorite teacher, the best there is.

“What did you design, Professor?” Hyunjin asks.

Please work.

You crack the world’s tiniest smile at the nickname — one you’ve always rolled your eyes at — and it’s enough for him. There’s a sliver of excitement in your voice again, too.

Proof of life.

“So…” You suck in a breath, like you’ll miss more than a few as you ramble. “The problem is mechanical, even if it presents as psychiatric, right? You can’t rely on psychotropic medication to soothe a brain that’s gone haywire in a literal sense. The solution is hidden within the problem itself, you know?”

You pause and glance over at him for some confirmation that he’s following. He’s doing his fucking best, but this shit is so far outside of his wheelhouse. You take the borderline grimace he gives you and run with it, gesturing wildly with your free hand while you talk.

“I designed a chip to be inserted here —” You reach over and run your fingertip over the small, titanium datashard slot behind his right ear.

Most people use this port to store and share data in the same way its distant predecessor — the universal serial bus — was used, generations ago. Having started out as a military exclusive, this tech weaved its way into the corporate sectors following the war. From there, it trickled down to civilian populations, who primarily use it for media consumption.

Of course, the run-off always lands in the gutter. Edge runners and their neighbors in the underbelly swap maps, schematics, and the like, passing intel from person to person without leaving an easily discoverable paper trail. Money, too, that’ll never cross paths with a bank or an audit.

Their more tech-literate counterparts — net runners and back alley doctors, for example — pad their ill-gotten income by peddling programmed datashards. Ones that enhance hacking capabilities or bolster combat prowess, as if the recipient is main-lining skills; no practice necessary.

Hyunjin, to the contrary, doesn’t use his shard slot at all. He’s never been adept at this tech shit, and he can’t be fucking bothered to learn.

“— with the goal of de-stimulating the frontal lobe.” You move your hand to brush your fingertips gently across his forehead.

Your touch is gone too soon.

Pausing for a moment, your shoulders and the corners of your mouth droop downwards. Dejected, you sound almost apologetic when you eventually say, “Not a perfect fix, by any means. I just figured that if you can mute some of the noise that’s overriding these people’s true personalities, you can negate the impulse to —”

“— Peel people apart like perilla leaves,” Hyunjin mutters darkly. He’s nowhere near as tactful as you are, so he sees no use in trying. “And if they’re not not doing that, then it’s less likely that —”

Looking now at him, you chirp, “The last thing they see in this life is their own brain smeared on the sidewalk, yes.”

Hyunjin stares at you with his jaw hanging open, absolutely shaken to his core that something like that, something he would say, just came out of your mouth. Flabbergasted is too weak a word; his whole goddamn world has been upended. And he doesn’t know or care what it says about him as a person that he wants to kiss you more now than he ever has before.

Seemingly unaware of the way you just broke his brain, your gaze shifts back down to your joined hands. You go quiet again, smile slipping away as you fade in real time. He fucking hates it. Hates that reality always finds a way to creep back in, even though it’s never once been welcome here.

It’s heavy.

It hurts.

“It could’ve been great.”

Hyunjin knows you’re talking about your project, but that’s not all he hears.

You could’ve been great if this world wasn’t anything like it is. Instead, your genius is tucked away in one shithole apartment after another.

You could’ve been great together, but the time and place are all wrong.

It all could’ve been great, but it isn’t.

He’s at a loss for words now, so he simply nods.

“I don’t know what I expected, signing on to work for Nam Yeongsun,” you admit quietly. “I don’t know why I thought he’d be any different than the rest of them.”

Them, meaning the other fundamentalist, venture capitalists hiding democracy behind a paywall.

Your assessment is mostly correct. The only thing that sets Ulsan’s Chief Executive Officer apart is his mastery of dog-whistle politics. Charming demagogue that he is, he’s the best at what he does — subtly reinforcing prejudices that dwell below the surface.

“He took what I created and perverted it.”

Hyunjin’s no stranger to your fiercely passionate side, but he’s never seen a simmering rage quite like this one.

You spit it out like it’s poison: “Nam is trying to eradicate what he deems to be unproductive traits, as if you can bug fix poverty and addiction.”

A wave of nausea crashes over Hyunjin so forcefully that his palms start to sweat.

The targeted advertisements in low-income areas.

The promise of cash for participation without any explanation.

Oh, fuck.

“He’s hijacking people,” Hyunjin croaks, struggling to breathe. “That thing you said about the frontal lobe,” he mutters before swallowing hard. “They’re losing themselves, aren’t they?”

“I didn’t think it was possible.” The tears in your eyes threaten to spill over. You clear your throat, but it doesn’t make a difference; your voice still shakes, trembling alongside your hands. “But if they’ve made it all the way to human trials, that means they’ve actually figured out a way to do it.”

Hyunjin is torn between wanting to scream, faint, and vomit. None of them could adequately purge him of the gnawing sense of doom that swirls in his gut; there’s no quick fix, if a fix even exists at all.

But the boulder is already flying downhill at breakneck speed, and he can’t stop it. Throwing his body in front of it won’t make a difference. That feeling of abject helplessness only swells when you glance at him sideways and up the ante.

“Hyunjin, that’s not the worst of it.”

He doesn’t want to hear it, doesn’t want to ask and shoulder the burden of knowing, but refusing to bear witness to the truth is what made this state the way it is. Hyunjin doesn’t have a choice.

“What could possibly be worse than that?”

“Nam’s charge has always been to eradicate societal ills. He wants abstention, whether it’s drugs or antisocial behavior — forced, if it can’t be willful.” Your voice gets weaker, the more you say, but you don’t stop. “If he really found a way to dig his fingers into the brains of undesirable people, he’ll never stop at one form of abstinence.”

“You're talking about eugenics, right?” He struggles to swallow the bile rising in his throat.

“If this beta makes it out of the trial phase, I’m talking about classicide.”

The ride back to the compound breaks Hyunjin’s heart every time he has to make it. With how tight he grips the handlebars now, his fingers might break, too, but he doesn’t give a shit. All he can think about is the small, metal datashard in his pocket, and the look on your face when you’d handed it to him.

“You have to give this to Spider, Hyunjin. Nobody else. Do you understand?”

Every part of that exchange had been a plea. You’d pulled the tech out of a locked box in your nightstand and transferred it to his palm with a desperation in your eyes that he’d never seen before — from anyone. You’d closed his fingers around it and kept your hands over his, holding him tight, and he made the mistake of asking why.

In hindsight, Hyunjin wishes he hadn’t.

“The encryption. If someone doesn’t peel back the security correctly, layer by layer, it’ll flag your location.”

If he’d kept his mouth shut, he wouldn’t have to know why you clung to him the way that you did, looking at him like it was the last time you’d ever get to do it.

“Everything I know about the beta is on that shard — the program, the lab’s coordinates, its security, and its vulnerabilities.”

Your voice broke then.

“They’ll know the source of the information as soon as you access it, but they cannot find out where you are when you do.”

When he felt the weight of your words, Hyunjin refused to accept them for what they were: a sacrifice. Ulsan’s retention team, who currently has no idea you’re still in the peninsula — still alive — will tear the New Republic apart to find you, and when they do —

He kept repeating that there had to be another way to prevent this rollout, that he’d find one, he promised; but you touched his cheek, and he knew:

The only way to Ulsan is through you.

On his way out the door, you’d stopped him with one hand around his wrist. Kissed him hard, cheeks tear-stained, and tried your best to get the rest out through a tightening throat.

“Hyunjin,” you’d whispered, then your voice trailed off.

All the time you’d both spent swallowing it down made it too difficult to vocalize, but Hyunjin still heard it in all that quiet. He took the baton from you then, speaking just as softly, just as sure. “I know,” he promised. “I love you, too.”

And now, as he races back to the compound with your death sentence in his pocket, Hyunjin knows something else for certain:

When you’re gone, you’ll haunt him, too.

while likes are appreciated, comments/tags/reblogs with your thoughts are really what make my brain go brrrtt.

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songsofadelaide · 5 months

Text

Waltz of Four Left Feet

cw/tw: no curses/law school AU set in the 2020s, slice of life, unmotivated lawyer/law professor!higuruma x ??? female reader, established relationship, smoker higuruma headcanon, yuuji as higuruma's favourite student/law apprentice, yuuji spitting facts and meddles with the best of intentions, flashbacks of a meet-cute-ugly, inaccurate depictions of law school life, fluff, did I say slice of life already? (lol) + another marriage proposal. wc: 1.1k

"You do know that with your current knowledge and experience in the field, you're on the right track to becoming a great judge. Think about it, will you? Brilliant ones like you don't come around too often."

Hearing superiors, colleagues, students, and strangers alike sing his praises did not stroke his ego at all. More than anything, Higuruma felt a dense weight on his shoulders. Apart from being a lawyer himself, he was an educator, and he felt equally responsible for ensuring his students have the right knowledge at hand when they become lawyers themselves in the future.

And he was fine with that. Becoming a prosecutor? A judge? Those were far too ambitious for him to consider, let alone even think of. Until…

"That's not a bad idea, Higuruma-san. If you become a judge, you'll have more than enough to marry your girlfriend and provide for your family."

Well. That's another way to look at things.

Higuruma was taking a short smoke break in between his classes when one of his favourite students approached him with a chilled canned coffee in hand.

"Are you done with your readings, Itadori-kun?"

Educators shouldn't favour one student over another because it clouds their judgement, yet it was hard not to be drawn to Itadori Yuuji's enthusiasm for the law profession. The young man had enough promise and ambition for them both, and Higuruma made it his personal mission to mould the boy into a lawyer who would be praised just as much as him.

"And you've been with her for how many years now?" The younger man continued as he counted with his fingers, ignoring his mentor's question. "You really should be stepping up and proposing to her or something."

Higuruma breathed his cigarette deep and let out a drawn out exhale that seemed more like a sigh of frustration. "You really think I don't know that yet, kid?"

He first met you in a local coffee shop some years back after you both accidentally spilled your coffees on each other. Instead of being pissed at him, you laughed off the incident as a simple case of bad luck, something you obviously both shared on that day since it wasn't just you drenched in an Americano. He was equally soaking in your favourite latte.

And like a sunflower drawn to the warmth of daylight, he was easily charmed by your bright optimism— very much so that he didn't think twice when you asked him for his contact details (to pay him for his suit's dry cleaning).

Your second meeting at the same cafe wasn't so bad if not for the barista switching your drinks. You laughed it off as you drank your latte with his name on it, somehow tasting sweeter than the usual.

They got it right the third time. You guys were regulars by the fourth.

Higuruma once made the mistake of taking some of his law firm's apprentices to the very cafe you frequented and none of them were able to figure out why he froze at the entrance and urged everyone to find someplace else to have coffee.

Everyone except Yuuji, who followed his mentor's gaze and found a woman smiling at him from across the cafe. His attention to detail was both a boon and bane for him, and a stroke of bad luck for his professor, who unknowingly revealed his most well-kept secret. You could only laugh and shake your head as your boyfriend trailed behind his students, obviously trying his best to stay composed.

When Yuuji found you in the cafe the following day, he bought you a fruit tart. "You must be Higuruma-san's mysterious girlfriend."

"Can you keep it a secret for us both, Yuuji-kun?"

You became fast friends with the boy, too, much to Higuruma's embarrassment and enjoyment. You found it a pleasure to quiz the men with their subject cards even though you knew nothing about law while they weighed in on your own work matters.

"Higuruma-san, you aren't like those people who are married to their profession, are you?"

"Of course not. Now get back to your readings."

His dismissal of talks about marriage was off-putting, but Yuuji knew that Higuruma was just stalling for time. For whatever reason, he'll probably never know.

Higuruma stubbed out his cigarette and threw the butt in the nearby receptacle.

"You have a pretty cushy salary, if you ask me. But if you aren't going to obtain a judgeship like the other professors suggested, what else is stopping you from getting married?"

Oh, right. Yuuji was still there.

"Those readings aren't going to do themselves."

Something did stop him, in fact. It was the fact that you two never really spoke about it. Marriage.

Your relationship was like an ongoing dream for him. One he hadn't woken up from yet because of how airy it made him feel. Just like how a sunflower curled in the direction of the sun, so too did he whenever you were asleep in bed together, curling into your warmth as though he wanted to keep it for his own.

And when he told you over dinner about the judgeship offer from earlier in the day, you replied to him with the same optimism that drew him to you from the start.

"Hiromi, you know I'll always have your back in whatever it is you decide to do. If you wanna go for that judgeship, I say go for it! But you don't have to force yourself, either," you reassured him with a warm smile, one that pulled a similar grin to his own tired face. "Though I suppose some extra shopping money wouldn't be so bad."

"What about m…" He started, only for his voice to fail him. His favourite student would probably be berating him for being so nervous over nothing. Over everything.

"What?"

"Marry me."

Your cutlery goes quiet against your plate, a twinkle in your eyes he mistook for something else. He was planning his escape route now. Your upfront refusal was kindness enough, he thought to himself. But was he really going to stick around and listen to you enumerate the reasons why you wouldn't—

"Of course I will, Hiromi."

"Huh?"

"Oh, my silly little doomer. Did you really think I'd refuse to marry you?" You chuckled at him from across the dinner table. "After that question, expect to be stuck with me for good."

Higuruma laughed, the rumble coming deep from his core. As if there was anything else he'd want more than that. You were all the optimism he needed in his life. "I suppose you're stuck with me then, too."

#songsofadelaidewrites💛#jujutsu kaisen #reader insert #jjk x reader #jjk higuruma #higuruma hiromi #hiromi higuruma #higuruma x reader

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ggukkiereads · 2 years

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FIC RECS | Namjoon Nerd AU

This is based on a recent ask I received from @monovcut.. Thank you! I had fun making this list

I almost included other fics where he’s the smart dude, the genius, the scientist, the smart professor, etc. but I focused on scenarios where Namjoon is smart but has this quality about him that’s either shy or weird or awkward that makes him oh so adorable? Maybe not blatantly so in some of the fics, other times more pronounced. I also read various genres so you will be surprised at how the list will feature fics from sugar daddy au to fantasy-themed.

💌 Sharing this and I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did because I love hot, nerdy Namjoon too 🥰. Thank you dear authors for writing and bringing this wonderful concept to life. 🥰

Please note that some of the fics are mature. Minors please DNI. Check the tags/warnings per fic too.

S - smut | F - fluff | A - angst

Note: if link to fic doesn’t work, click on author and go to their masterlist.

[around 29 fics]

A Match Made in Heaven @sahmfanficbts - one shot | 4.8k | medical school residentt!namjoon x dental school resident!reader, humor (I just love Joon and his puns and his super funny conversation with his Mom uwu),, meet cute | f, s

🌷Honestly, just read all of Sam’s Namjoons even if they are not necessarily nerdy. You'd just love the characterizations and you get that Namjoon essence you're looking for in fics.

All I Need is One @lamourche (only on AO3 now and you need an account to view) - one shot | 10.7k | sugar daddy au but make it one hot awkward Namjoon, Professor!Namjoon, bartender!reader, some hurt/comfort theme too?, humor | s, f

🌷This used to be on tumblr but it got removed T_T. Awkward!Namjoon exploring the concept of sugarbaby/daddy relationship has never been this attractive. I need this Namjoon shouting "you are the sugar baby of my dreams" in the streets to me while looking like his serious, philosophical and confident self. This is someone who knows what he wants and like what he said, there are two things he's good at. The comfort part of this fic is just a bonus but it makes you feel like getting a warm tight hug after drooling over this Joon

Beauty & the Bookworm | Nice Try, Nerd @jungshookz - bullet fic | 22.2k | Librarian!Namjoon, College AU, follow-up drabble is Halloween-themed fluff | f, a, s

🌷It just so automatic to think about this Namjoon whenever people ask for a Nerd!Namjoon fic. Please I miss librarian!namjoon 🥺.

Castaways @rmnamjoons - one shot | 25.5k | castaway au, stranded au, survival au, luxury cruise with the best friend and the boyfriend Hoseok, and Hoseok’s nerdy best friend Namjoon but got hit by a storm, slow burn | f, s, a

🌷Author has wonderful Namjoon fics - I feel like his smart but sometimes awkwardness is captured so endearingly in all of the fics and I guarantee you’d just fall for all the Namjoons.. You may try the author’s other fics such as Sunshine. They also have a Witch OC and bookstore owner!Namjoon who I find so adorable.

Cherry Muffins and Lavender Tea @roses-ruby - one shot | 8.1k | College AU, Coffee Shop AU, biker Joonie 🥵, Book lover Namjoon who always reads at the cafe’ she works | f, s

🌷This reminds me of Namjoon from the SOOP and how he’d just plop on benches and beanbags, with his iced americano, to read his choice of book for the day T_T.

Citrus @taephilia - drabble series [5/?] | 8.3k+ | College AU, Strangers to Lovers, slice of life, got partnered for a project | f

🌷I love the simple slice of slice vibes and how domestic the scenarios are. He gives MC a pet plant (uwu so cute)

Distortion @darlingwoes - drabble | 3.1k | Tutor!OC, smart and awkward Namjoon (he’s smart but he asked to be tutored 👀) x more sociable OC, turned into smutty tutoring session | s

🌷 short but sexy drabble about going for the adorable namjoon (no full smut but it’s still spicy)

English Literature & Like Pavlov’s Dogs @tayegi - two shot | 15.8k | college au, bookstore staff!reader, bookworm!namjoon, they engage in a debate over Jane Austen and I am mad at Namjoon too lol, kind of e2l, humor, established relationship for sequel | s, f

🌷So I debated if Namjoon is “nerdy” enough. Yes, he is smart (and a smartass) but he’s not that awkward enough to be labeled so (or whatever ruler people have to differentiate this lol) but I just love how fierce and dedicated he is with his thoughts/opinion about erm, literature and I’ve never been so annoyed with a character’s argument as if I wanted to jump into the story and join OC to defend Jane Austen. This is just an amazing battle of the nerds smarts

Feeling Deeply @yournameyn - series [6/?] | 20k+ | arranged marriage au, OC (named Brishti), slow burn, 1960s themed, immigrants | f, s

🌷It just has a poetic style to it (so less dialogues and more on description) with art and literature references. It's about two people that are just perfect for each other (in the fic description, author actually wrote that it's about two nerds discovering each other)

Fuck Me Through the Phone Part 2 @trbld-writer - series [2/?] | 8.2k+ | phone sex operator!namjoon, secret identity, college au, actually partners in class, med student, humor | s, f

🌷something I read in the past. I just remember Namjoon being a smart aleck and a project partner OC is so annoyed with (though OC finds him cute). It was fun to see OC try to figure things out like why does Namjoon sound so familiar (or sounds like her favorite phone sex operator lol. It’s a fun scenario)

Glasses Clad Boy @jeongi - one shot | 10k | Tutor!Namjoon, super intelligent Namjoon who prefers books even though a lot of people wanted him, mutual pining, college au | f, s

🌷 Namjoon is just so attractive the way he’s described - just smart and focused on things that matter than playing around. I guess a different kind of nerdiness.

Handsome Stranger @bangtanloverboys - drabble | 316 words | just short but super cute, a bit of idiots to lovers and we have to thank Yoongi for making OC realize a thing or two | f

🌷something short but fluffy that's tooth rotting 🥰

Hot Nerd Part Two Part Three @imagines-bangtan - drabble series [3/3] | 6.8k | just cute moments between hot nerd!namjoon x library hottie!reader that started in the library to how they are in an established relationship | f, implied smut

Inside my Mind @jimlingss - one shot | 19.2k | high school au, mind reader!namjoon, one horny!OC, humor/funny, a sort of coming of age phase but make it crack | s, f

🌷I’ve spoken about this a few times but I have fond memories of these two and their hilarious tandem. Mind reading horny thoughts aside, I like that on the outside these two appear smart, studious, harmless, and kind of weird but they are each other’s weirdos ya know? This is just fun and a good read when you want something funny, horny and kind of pure too? (each other’s first times)

I’m Nothing Without You @realifefairy - series [2/4] | 23.3k | Brother’s Best Friend AU, Childhood friends, Unrequited of some sort (OC confessed before he moves to college but got rejected), but also Mutual Pining (I guess throw in idiots-to-lovers here but their situation can’t be helped)| f, a ,s

🌷I like how this is written - it has this nostalgic vibes to it as if I was watching Our Beloved Summer (the Korean drama) and the characters are so vibrant at the young age we meet them until the moments that pass by as they grow up bit by bit. Namjoon has this image of being a “geek” or “nerd” but OC just has heart eyes for “her nerd”. I guess, this story is about timing too. I really like this and I can’t wait to see how the story will turn out

Just Friends & Still Friends @satnin-darling - two shot [2/? But it feels like there might be a continuation so I am putting a “?” mark]] | 19k | College AU, Namjoon and some nerdy talks about bonsais, art, beliefs, politics, philosophy, etc, virgin!Namjoon, sort of FWB au | f, s

🌷If you like cerebral Namjoon and just swoons over his deep thoughts, you’ll like him here

Love Borrowed @goldenkookietae - one shot | 7.1k | bibliophiles, library buddies, more of reading buddies, library au, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, memory loss/amnesia themes | f, a, s

🌷Please, we get Namjoon doing a Narnian handshake - this is so precious. It’s actually cute and sweet with a touch of soft angst. It’s just heartwarming to know that the things that connect two people are their love of books no matter what the time/situation is.

Love is Blind @helenazbmrskai - one shot | 7.4k | Best Friend’s Brother AU, Enemies to Lovers, College AU, humor, Namjoon is mean, Unrequited love | f, s, a

🌷Namjoon is such a meanie though 🥺. I guess we need a mean Namjoon at some point. It started out comedic enough (with OC breaking his eyeglasses and he needs help since he can't see anything) but it turns angsty with OC's thoughts about not being similar to Joon who is smart and all that. I guess Joonie being mean didn't help the angst T_T

Midnight Wishes @ddaenggtan - one shot | 10.3k | Roommates AU, Coworkers, Friends to Lovers au, FWB AU, humor | s, f, a

🌷This is part of a Christmas-themed collab which is probably one of my favorite collabs (probably mentioned this a couple of times). I’ve probably gone through the stories at least twice too. It would be good to read the stories sequentially and get immersed in this cute and lovable community of characters. Anyway, now to our Namjoon. I just love how the writer described the perfect way to simp and thirst over Namjoon - respectfully and also crazily. Okay wait I was supposed to talk about Namjoon and how he fits this fic rec list.. Okay, I actually like our OTP!!! They just have this smart and quirky vibes to them that leads to quirkiest conversations like talking about bonobos and going over kinks and orgasms while doing lab work (lol). For two people who are super smart, they are so oblivious and this makes their whole fwb situation interesting. I just love how these two smarties are just perfect for each other and being the Christmas-enthusiast that I am, it’s such a perfect setting to realize a thing or two.🥰

Moonlight @sugaurora - one shot | 16.5k | Werewolf!Namjoon (a secret), Fantasy, Forest Spirit!Reader, sort of College AU (Namjoon is studying Institute of Metaphysical Research and Technology), strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, kind of awkward not so social namjoon in the beginning but he loves his plants (and talks to them too uwu) | f, s, a

🌷I guess this is a bit different because it has more fantasy undertones to it and it’s a werewolf au (a favorite genre of mine); I just remember Namjoon being so focused on his world(?) whether it be his studies or what. Definitely reserved that it took OC some time to get a response from him and it was a lovely process seeing Joonie bloom =)

Nerdy Namjoon who knows how to f*ck good drabble @1kook - drabble | 500 words? | fwb, nerdy namjoon who worries about his books, humor | s

🌷I love this drabble so much and I remember reblogging/commenting on this; It’s so short but we get this funny but super hot Namjoon and I relate to him and the way he takes care of his books lol

Oh, Worm? @agustdiv1ne - one shot | 3.6k | Librarian!Namjoon, equally awkward OC, two bookworms | f

🌷literally falling over books - another couple that are perfect for each other 🥰

Partners @btssmutgalore - series [11/?] | 97k+ | College AU, partners for paper, virgin!Namjoon, Namjoon with a “boring” image (so most people don’t even remember him 🥲), chirpy popular!MC | f, a, s

🌷This is a classic fandom fic for this kind of trope and it’s actually one of the fics I first thought of when I got this ask. You get your stereotype nerd (also labeled as a “loser” by others) and one popular MC who gets the pretty but dumb and shallow image (she’s actually smart though). The dynamic and how these two seemingly mismatched characters, by society’s standards at least, get to develop their relationship is a wonderful process to witness (I guess I should put “slow burn” in the tags too).. As MC discovers more about Namjoon and how much she likes Namjoon, MC goes through this self-awareness and realization too. It’s nice to see her thought process because she is more than the glossy and glittering image people associated her with. Namjoon has this line about how we overthink things when we feel our actions do not align with our beliefs and we just need to be more self-aware about our limits and what we want. Okay I guess this is becoming a full review but if you like to see good character and relationship development between the nerd x popular trope, then this is such a great read =)

The Rich Man’s Crochet Club @kpopfanfictrash - one shot | 32.4k | College AU, virgin!Namjoon, comedy, crushing on OC | f, s

🌷This is really more of an OT7 fic to me? It felt like watching an American sitcom with this group of virgin guys as the lead characters and how they lost their v-card. In this episode, we focus on Namjoon as the only remaining virgin in the RMCC. It’s such a fun read to see how the boys draw up a “battle plan” for Namjoon. They kept putting these strategies that don’t seem to work only for them to realize that Namjoon just needs to be his nerdy self to get the girl. OC is kind of nerdy too so it was cute to see their few interactions (the boys’ reactions are making it so comedic tbh). The other members get a spin-off and we reunite with the gang later at Namjoon’s wedding to OC in The Monogamy Monologues (it’s a Jungkook story though)

Roast @dreamscript - one shot | 3.5k | College AU, accidental tutor!namjon, comedy (funny snapchats) | f

🌷Engineering major!Namjoon who goes into philosophical talks, blind date au of some sort, feat funny OT6, OC likes roasting people - something to read on days you want lighthearted scenarios

The Snow Globe Effect @gukyi - one shot | 10k | co-workers au, library au, librarian!namjoon and OC, snowed in, New Year au, Joon drabbles in rapping sometimes | f

🌷I realize I have this whole library of Christmas fics because I love the season but I don’t have one for New Year fics. I just love this nerdy Namjoon who’d randomly share trivia and random stuff like his talk about the weather and crabs - just so endearing! (if you like smart Namjoon, try author’s hogwarts Namjoon Tutor too. It’s more of E2L and some rivalry that led to snowball fights lol. Maybe not as nerdy as Snow Globe’s Namjoon 🥺 but I love a smart joon e2l fic)

Stick Me @geniusjjang - drabble | 3.2k | TA!Namjoon, Grad School!Namjoon, College AU, MC crushing on Namjoon and using stickers to get his attention 🥺, funny and cute | f

🌷 It’s just so timely that I keep seeing Problematic Men Namjoon clips all over my twitter feed and I imagine this drabble’s Namjoon looks and behaves like that. It’s just cute and awkward and OC is kind of weird haha but the approach worked so 🤷‍♀️

Strawberry Cake @watashijeon - one shot | Tutor!Namjoon, kinda bratty!OC, pwp, sort of established relationship (Namjoon and I are still asking lol) | s

🌷This is pwp but Namjoon gets a full description and backstory why he’s like this (military dad and a mom who likes romantic stuff) which I appreciate because you see the pair’s contrasting personality; then their porn-worthy sex is just sizzling hot and just so…them? The ditzy cutie and the duality of Namjoon.

Stuttering @moonlightchildz - one shot | 11.6k | Tutor!Namjoon who stutters a lot (and people make fun of this ☹️), Underground Rapper!Namjoon, Secret Identity | s, f

🌷Something I actually reblogged twice because I love this Namjoon and there are times I crave for rapper Joon. His nerdy but swag duality is just mesmerizing and I love that secret identity bit. This is Ddaeng!Namjoon and you can not change my mind

notes

This is not exhaustive and there are probably a lot of fics I’ve missed. I actually made a mental note the other day to include some fics I randomly remembered but when I was putting this together I couldn’t remember the titles (I am so sorry!). I will update this once I remember fics or if there are newly written ones =)

I also tried to put fics I've read on AO3 but I got a bit overwhelmed going through my bookmark collection so --- maybe another time 🙂.

🌷Feel free to chat with me about fics/fichunting asks =) 🌷posted: 2022 Oct 26 | updated: 🌷other fic recs lists

#ggukkiereadingcollection #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon nerd au #nerd!namjoon #smart!namjoon #namjoon fic recs #bts fic recs #bts nerd au #namjoon fics

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