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retrievablememories · 9 months

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only have eyes 42 | yeri, taeyong (m)

pairings: vampire yeri x fem black reader, vampire taeyong x fem black reader summary: it’s surprisingly easy to be seduced by two benevolent strangers who fill in the empty spaces of your life—especially when you have no clue of their true nature. genre: romance, vampire!au, 1800s!au word count: 4.3k warnings: mentions of traditional gender roles/pressures to get married. blood consumption. kissing. biting. sexual tension. no full smut but suggestive content so MDNI. virgin!reader i guess? taeyong’s kind of a simp. voyeurism/eavesdropping. more creep behavior from taeyong. did i unintentionally write sugar mommy!yeri? well. undercurrents of manipulation/deceit. yeri and taeyong are fake cousins. gonna very tentatively put infidelity here just in case, although yeri and taeyong are both in on everything that’s happening between them and y/n, so… a/n: this is a sequel of sorts to “steal you,” set a few years after the initial events, with a different MC…as the previous one is dead. i unintentionally retconned some things in the original fic while writing this, but whatever!

note that precise historical accuracy wasn't the aim here, since these are only vignettes/scenarios and not a full story (yet?)

there’s a lot of background context that’s not (explicitly) mentioned here, so i'm thinking of writing a larger fic for this? we'll see...this is really just self-indulgent bisexual thoughts lmao 🙃

Days spent running the dress shop with your mother and youngest sister are often hectic and occasionally slow, but rarely are they fun. At least not for you. The kind customers make up for the rude and impatient ones, but there is only so much smiling you can do when your mother’s friends and acquaintances keep stopping in to ask you Have you found a suitor yet? or I can still arrange a meeting for you with my son, if you’d like!

Both your sisters had already found husbands. Your middle sister married at 20, and you hardly see her anymore since she went to live with her husband’s family. The youngest married at 19, but her husband still allows her to keep working at the shop because of how much she enjoys it—and because all money she earns goes directly to him, of course.

With you being 24 and having already rejected more than one proposal from men you hardly knew, everyone has been breathlessly expecting you to follow suit. You try in vain to ignore their expectations. You aren’t sure you’ve ever felt any romantic love for another person before—not the way your sisters or others describe it—and though the mounting pressure vexes you, you are mostly okay with that reality. You can’t miss what you’ve never had.

Until, one day, a particular woman walks into the shop.

You haven’t seen her in the shop before, or anywhere else around the city, and you are certain she would’ve remained in your memory if you had.

Years from now, when you think back to how this inscrutable woman altered your life’s path, you’ll remember this first day so clearly—all because it was raining. It was not the type of bone-soaking downpour you’ve always hated, but a gentler shower.

A man accompanies the woman, carrying a delicate pink and white umbrella above her head as he opens the door for her. When she steps inside, some water droplets roll off the umbrella and onto her pinned-up black hair, making her shiver when they reach her neck and slide into her collar. That small motion makes you smile in amusement before you can stop yourself, and at the same time, you catch her eye. She takes your expression as a welcoming smile and returns the gesture.

With her smooth skin, perfectly curved Cupid’s bow, and captivating eyes, she is remarkably beautiful.

You do not know who the man is, just assuming him to be a servant by the way he is holding her things and attending to her, but you find your eyes also lingering on him, despite yourself. He has a nice side-profile reminiscent of one you’d see in a painting, with a sloping nose, a handsomely formed bone structure, and plump lips. The second thing you notice is that his clothes are of a higher-quality than many of the servants you see daily; maybe he isn’t one at all. You’d gotten so into the habit of making (usually correct) assumptions about the shop’s patrons.

“Good morning. Fine weather today, isn’t it?” you say with a laugh.

The man gives an answering chuckle. “If you like nearly being washed into the gutter, maybe.”

“You’re endlessly dramatic,” the woman comments, raising a gloved hand to check for any more water droplets in her hair. Even her small movements are graceful in a way that comes naturally.

“...So, how may I assist you?” you ask, giving them both your attention while trying to avoid seeming like you’re staring.

“My lovely cousin Yerim here—” The man pinches the woman’s chin, and she sweeps his hand away in shocked annoyance “—is incredibly indecisive and has made me take her to every dressmaker on this side of London, so I do hope you have something here that catches her eye.”

“It’s not been every dressmaker,” Yerim clarifies, rolling her eyes with a small grin. “But your dresses in the window seemed exceptionally pretty, so I was curious.”

“Oh, of course. There are more fabrics like those, if you’ll follow me.”

You and Yerim look over the rows of available fabrics, and you give some recommendations on patterns and colors you think would fit her. She listens diligently as you talk, as if she couldn’t be more interested in anything else. A bit flustered by the attention, you end up keeping your eyes on the fabrics more than on her face.

As you’re explaining a particular material, she grasps the edge of the fabric you’re holding, brushing her lacy-gloved thumb across it until the digit bumps into the side of your hand. She giggles discreetly and only moves her hand away—causing the lace to slide across your skin—after it’s already lingered for what’s considered a little longer than normal.

You struggle not to pause in your speech as your mind stalls on that moment, giving her an apologetic smile when you stammer anyway. You don’t yet understand why you’re reacting like this, but the meaning will become clear to you in due time.

“You’re certain Taeyong won’t mind being left behind?”

He’d been accompanying the two of you on your walk through the park, which is scarcely filled with people at this time of day. Everyone else is at work, which you normally would’ve been too. Except for Yerim—who had enough money that your impromptu free day could be easily pulled off, and who’d nearly begged you to come out with her by offering to pay for two days’ worth of your earnings. It was a difficult overture to reject, and your mother had surprisingly few complaints about it. Not when part of the money was also going into her own purse.

Now, it’s just you and Yerim walking along the path together, as Taeyong had become preoccupied with ogling at a family of geese sunbathing in a field. You think it’s a bit eccentric how he always gets lost in excitement over stray animals and pets and the like, but that’s just how he is. You aren’t actually concerned about him being left behind, but more so because he’ll complain to Yerim about her “stealing you away” for the rest of your outing if you let him.

Yerim’s deeply rose-pink lips draw up in a smirk, and she rolls her eyes. “He’ll be quite fine by himself. Believe me, he survived well long before me.”

“You two seem to get along quite well. Most cousins I know have a world of problems between them. Families are so aggravatingly complex.”

Yerim gazes ahead down the path, as if she’s suddenly lost in her thoughts. Sunlight peeks through the lace trimming of herhatand creates shadowy patterns on her face. She often wears one of her pretty hats or even uses an umbrella when she steps out during the day, claiming her skin burns easily. “We both want the same things, so it makes it easier to relate to each other.”

“Well, now that’s intriguing. What similar things do you both want?”

Yerim looks at you, turning her body toward you with the motion, and you feel like you’ve suddenly got the sun bearing down on you in all its fullness. She slips her hat off, as if doing so will help her see better, and grasps the brim of it in her gloved hands.

“Life,” she replies, and though she doesn’t explain further, it feels like the type of answer with a world of meaning behind it.

“Life,” you repeat, and you try not to sound incredulous or mocking. “I would think you’d already experienced any spoils of life you could dream of and then some.”

“There’s always more.” Yerim says it with the subtle intensity of someone who harbors a constant hunger just beneath the surface, a yearning that even you can pick up on. It makes your skin become hot, and you internally chastise yourself because you’re sure she doesn’t intend it how you’re assuming. “Don’t you want more, too?”

“I suppose so,” you answer.

“Do you?” Yerim asks again, like she wants you to expand upon your response.

“The dress shop is fine,” you say, though that doesn’t feel truthful, “but it…would be nice to travel the world.” You speak the first desire that comes to mind, which makes it seem more real now that you’ve acknowledged it aloud.

“Hmm, wouldn’t that be nice? You could do just that.” Yerim comes to a stop in the middle of the pathway, and you do too, looking back at her to see why she’s paused. Yet again, she doesn’t give any hint about how doing just that could be possible in your current circumstances.

She twirls the large, lacy hatin her hand and holds it up in front of both of you, so that if anyone were coming from the other direction—say, another park visitor, or Taeyong—they wouldn’t see your faces. “But, even more importantly, there’s something I want to show you. Close your eyes.”

Her voice is measured and secretive. Her eyes are mischievous. The air thickens between you in the few seconds that you stare at each other within the concealment her hat provides, and it surprises you how quickly you come to the conclusion of what this something must be.

“Here?” you murmur.

Yerim nods, her face betraying no apprehension, only sweet anticipation. “Close your eyes?” she asks again. And so you do, your lips twitching into a small smile before you try to assume a straight face.

While you’re looking at the backs of your eyelids, you hear her heeled boots shuffling in the dirt and feel her presence growing closer. There’s a pause, an exhalation like she’s laughing without sound, then the press of those rose-pink lips upon yours.

This lovely woman who’s always in your shop, with a face you can hardly look away from and an ever-present magnetic aura, has her mouth over your own, her free hand grasping your waist earnestly. Her mouth is gentle and warm, and that familiar rose petal scent envelopes you.

It’s the first time you’ve kissed each other, but it feels like you’ve already done this multiple times before. The nerves you expected to feel are not there—there is only the soft familiarity, the fragrance of her perfume, and the warmth of her hand on your waist.

It’s a short kiss, which you try not to feel disappointed about. Yerim understands your desire and finds it amusing. She offers you a knowing smile, but she won’t give you any more unless you ask for it, and right now, your pride is still too stubborn to allow that. You’re still unsure why this lavishly moneyed woman is wanting to spend so much time with you, or what the mysterious things she says mean, or if there could be something else to all of this. What something else is, though, you have not a clue.

It wasn’t your intention to spend the night at Yerim’s home. But after you finish an exhausting day of tending to customers and working on complex sewing projects, she brings you to her house for the first time to have dinner. And you get so caught up in eating and touring every nook and cranny of the place—which really wasn’t as large as you expected it to be—and even playing a game of cards with her and Taeyong, that she insists it’s too late at night for you to go back home. Surely, you could wait until morning for them to return you to your own residence before work?

Before you know it, you are lying next to Yerim in her bed during the dark and early hours of the morning, gazing at the rest of the room through the wispy fabric draped around her canopy bed. You could’ve slept in a guest room of your choosing, but somehow, you’d been talked right into her bed. And it did not take much convincing for you to acquiesce.

“Are you happy?” Yerim asks. She hasn’t bothered to climb under the covers, and neither have you. She lies down with her arms folded across her stomach, knees bent, and toes curling absentmindedly into the comforter. This position makes her nightgown pool around her waist, exposing the length of her legs under the opposing candlelight and moonglow. You try not to stare. You don’t know how she has this much energy at night, as her body has hardly stopped moving since you began getting ready for bed.

“Yes, actually…I had a lovely time this evening, despite the earlier exhaustion.”

Yerim smiles. “I mean in general. Do you fancy working at the dress shop? You told me it was ‘fine,’ but you always seem so…unlively when I come in—in that split second before you notice my presence…”

“What do you get out of being that observant?” you ask, somewhat jokingly.

“It means I know everything.” She says it with some air of seriousness, as if she were truly granted omniscient powers you weren’t aware of. You only blink in response. “Now, why do you look that way?”

“Maybe I am just…stressed.”

Yerim turns onto her stomach and props her head up on her arms, using her pillow as a support, and your own stomach involuntarily tumbles with her gaze fixed on you. “What distresses you?”

Glancing up at the patterned ceiling, you close your eyes for a long moment and let the ensuing darkness surround you. It’s somewhat comforting. “My mother is anticipating that I should find a proper husband soon. We make money from the shop and live fairly comfortably that way, but she insists I must have a man to take care of me, like my sisters.” You sigh deeply as you continue with, “And bear children, of course.”

Yerim laughs like you’ve told a joke she can’t believe, and you are startled, as nothing you’ve said is particularly amusing.

“Shall we find you a proper husband who will support you handsomely, then?” she suggests through a giggle.

Your brows draw together, and you turn your head to look at her and those errant eyes. “Who?” You begin to regret mentioning this at all, wondering if she’ll actually use her social standing to contribute to the effort of marrying you off to some wealthy stranger. Surely, this will not be the culmination of your friendship…

Yerim moves so that she’s on her hands and knees now, and she doesn’t stop shifting until she’s hovering over you. You watch with eyes growing wide as her arms cage you on either side of your body, her legs sliding between yours. “Me. I will be the proper husband who supports you handsomely.”

Finally, a hesitant yet amused grin disrupts the prior confusion on your face. “Really? And who will approve of that?”

“That hardly matters. We’ll need no one’s approval.”

Her hair falls over her shoulders and dangles in front of you, and you part it like a curtain to brush away the shadows obscuring her face. Her visage is half-shadow and half-candlelight, reminiscent of an oil painting. The glitter of her eyes and the glint of her teeth as she smiles are sharp, as if you could be physically cut by these flashes of light, and your chest stirs with something like unease for a moment. You don’t know why.

Your voice is quiet when you say, “You won’t find any opposition from me, then.”

“In that case, close your eyes again.”

“Why? Perhaps I don’t want to lose this view.”

Yerim draws her index finger across your lower lip. “I’ll give you a gift—one like that day in the park.”

Your heart stutters at the thought. “Do what you will,” you murmur, letting your eyelids slip down.

The same hand that was on your mouth takes your chin in a loose grip, and you make a small noise when she lowers her body flush against yours.

Her kiss is no longer soft or brief. Her lips press against yours as if she means to meld every part of your beings together, her tongue slotting itself into your mouth, and you accept the proposition.

You kiss until your lips hurt, though that’s more likely from the way she keeps biting your bottom lip until she draws blood—and then she kisses you even more feverishly as if she’s invigorated from the bloodshed, the primal quality of it. It makes your lip sting, but you realize you like the sensation.

Her body continually shifts against yours during your embrace, and by the time she separates from your mouth to give your neck a wild, messy lick, your underwear has grown damp and your legs knock clumsily into hers. Dizzy with lust you’ve never encountered before, you find you’re unable to do anything but lie prone and let her do what she wishes to you.

Meanwhile, Taeyong stands outside of the door as still as a statue, listening to the now-familiar sound of your blood rushing and your heart pulsing—the unique rhythm of every human’s blood that defines their very existence. No two bodies are ever quite the same. The sweet music of your blood is punctuated by your small murmurs and moans, and he doesn’t need to press his ear to the door to hear clearly, but the absurdly human desire to do so is still there, if only to get closer…

He knows that Yerim must realize he’s out there, listening in like a pervert, and he does not care.

You’re sitting at Yerim’s kitchen table sewing a rip in a scarf of yours when you prick your finger on the needle. You drop your materials from the shock of the sudden injury and hold your finger, watching blood bead up on the pad of it as it throbs with pain. Taeyong is away from the kitchen counter and by your side before you even register it, and you are slightly startled by him sliding into the seat next to you.

“What?” you ask.

“Can I see it?”

“Is there any gauze?” you ask, showing him your finger.

Taeyong carefully grasps your wrist with both hands. “For this little wound? It’ll stop bleeding in minutes.” There’s a certain urgency to his movements and his tone that makes you curious. “All it needs is this.”

Taeyong presses his lips to your finger as if to soothe it. You’ve licked your own cuts after the many times you’ve been pricked while sewing, but to have someone else do it, and in such a manner, was…strange. The action enflames your body; it seems oddly more satisfying than it should be to him, as if he gets some kind of bizarre gratification from it. He inhales deeply and doesn’t move his mouth; he just keeps it pressed against the cut until he finally moves your finger away, the sphere of your blood broken and smeared across his lips. He drags his tongue across his lower lip to rid it of the blood smear, and your body twitches; you want to look away. You feel like you’re witnessing something obscene and private you aren’t meant to see.

You don’t say anything as he takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes the rest of the blood away from your finger before quickly tucking the cloth back into its place. You wonder if he’ll wash it; it’ll be ruined by your blood otherwise.

Unbeknownst to you, he will take this handkerchief out in the privacy of his room later that night and press his face into it, breathing in the faint scent of your blood and imagining the faded taste of it on his lips.

“Are you well?” he asks.

“...It still hurts. I didn’t think a silly kiss would help,” you answer, and chuckle quietly to try to defuse the nerve-wracking atmosphere of that earlier moment.

“Fine, hold on a minute.”

Taeyong finds gauze in another room and comes back to wrap a small piece of it around your finger, protecting your cut from the outside world. Afterwards, you’re about to slip your hand out of his when his grip tightens, and you pause.

“What’s troubling you?” you ask, already knowing something is amiss from the furrow in his eyebrows and the tension in his body that wasn’t there before.

Taeyong drops his head, pressing his forehead to your wrist, and you think he might sob or collapse for no apparent reason. Alarmed, you’re about to speak again when you realize this isn’t the case; he lifts his head so that you can see him lower his lips to your hand again. He kisses the back of your hand in a way that’s markedly different from his previous touch; this one is more sensual, intentional in its purpose to rouse a response from you. His mouth trails a path down to your uninjured ring finger, and you observe silently as he bites the tip of it softly.

“I’m jealous of you and Yerim…” The confession comes out in a sigh, like it’s a sound his body needs to release rather than a thought-out sentence.

“Jealous…” It’s not a question, as you already had an idea of this in the back of your mind, but you don’t know why he’s chosen now to mention it.

“I’d also like to know just how soft your lips feel, or what they taste like…” Taeyong keeps kissing the tips of your fingers and your knuckles slowly, almost like he’s pretending your hand is your mouth with how engrossed he is in this task. You find this shameless display simultaneously embarrassing and appealing in some deep part of yourself; it’s the way he prostrates himself before you, flays open his hidden desires to you. “I’d like you to touch my body the same way you touch hers…I’d like to make you moan desperately the same way she does, late at night when you believe me to be asleep.”

Your only answer is a rough exhalation. Your dress feels uncomfortably hot; you wonder how he knows of those things. Does he stand outside the door? Listen at the wall? You didn’t realize the walls were that thin around here, and you think maybe you should be more put-off by his unabashed eavesdropping.

“What do you say to that?” he asks, lifting his head to look at you.

“I say it’s rather pathetic,” you answer, meaning it wholeheartedly—and for some reason, the pitiable state of his desire makes it more alluring to you. There’s a thoughtful pause between the two of you. You make no move to reject him when he leans closer, staring at your lips. One of his hands releases yours and touches your throat instead, his fingertips splaying to rest above your pulse.

“Then allow me to make myself appear even more pathetic in your eyes for just a moment.” Taeyong’s so close that his lips almost brush yours when he speaks. Your mouths connect only for a second before the front door opens. That brief touch of his lips to yours is all you receive.

The separation between you widens to its original innocuous breadth as Taeyong sits back in his seat. He is placing your hand back into your lap when Yerim walks into the kitchen a few moments later, and she abruptly stops in the doorway. You think she must be upset because she has somehow figured out what transpired. In actuality, she is cross because of the lingering smell of your blood in the air, which your human senses can’t pick up.

“Yerim…” you say, your throat feeling choked. You two hadn’t spoken seriously about a relationship, especially not with the dilemma of your mother still hunting for a husband for you and the fact that you’d both be shunned, but you realize that kissing your lover’s cousin is probably not the way to go about things.

Yerim walks over to the two of you and greets you as she normally would. “Y/N,” she says calmly, stroking a finger against your cheek; there’s always some part of her body touching yours whenever you meet. The same hand lands tightly on Taeyong’s shoulder afterwards, and the smile she gives him is close-mouthed and unnatural. He looks up at her with a face that isn’t guilty, but more curious and slightly irritated. “You haven’t been hurt badly, have you?” she asks, glancing at the gauze on your finger.

“Oh…no. It was just a pinprick,” you say, tentatively picking your sewing materials up off the table. Yerim’s tension rescinds when she notices the sewing needle, though her gaze towards Taeyong stays suspicious. “I…think I’ll just go and put this away for now.”

The two wait until you leave the room to speak in barely audible tones.

“Remember our arrangement,” Yerim whispers, unable to keep the disgust out of her voice.

“You’re eager to lambast me for bloodshed I didn’t even cause, yet you drew her blood on her first night here. Who exactly has forgotten themselves?”

Yerim’s tone is perfectly matter-of-fact when she responds with, “I have more self-control than you—as all the unsuspecting human women of London you’ve ravaged are well-aware of your lack.” She levels Taeyong with a deadpan look. “She wasn’t in any danger with me that night.”

“You’re fond of drawing this dance out beyond reason, and then you have the audacity to be surprised when one’s patience wears thin.”

“Then maybe I’ll return to finding prey on my own if you’re so worn thin. Do recall that you’re the one who asked me to help you sweep up all your mess from the beginning, so I’d speak more carefully if I were in your place.”

“Just unbelievable,” Taeyong mutters as Yerim brushes past him without a second glance. His fingers twitch over the pocket where the blood-smeared handkerchief rests, but he dismisses the urge to pull it out now.

Self-control, he thinks. You have no monopoly on self-control.

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panjakes · 9 months

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The investigator and the Thief Chap.3

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“Yn”

The women looks up from her computer seeing her boss

“Yes Mr.Suh?” She says looking at him batting her long eyelashes at him, causing the man to hiss

“Are you ready for tonight? Do you need anything?” He asks making her look up at the ceiling like she was thinking

“Nope! I have everything I need” she says smiling

“Good, I’ll be picking you up around 8:30” he says

“Is your wife not going?” She asks already knowing his long time partner wasn’t going to show

“You know she doesn’t come to events with me” the brown haired man says straightening his tie

“Aw, such a shame” Yn says with a fake pout

“Not that shameful, that means I get alone time with my favorite women” he says smirking then winking

“Can’t wait” Yn says bitting her lip

Johnny walks away with a smirk. Yn’s fake smile drops as she scoffs and rolls her eyes. She really couldn’t stand the man she worked for but his money paid well and he was dumb as a box of rocks so it was way to easy for her to steal from him.

Looking over at the clock on her walk the time read 5:56. She got off at 6 so she had time to get dressed and ready for the party tonight.

Grabbing her things and turning off her computer she walks to the break room to clock out.

It was now 8:20 and Yn was doing her makeup. Once she was done she gave her beautiful face a once over. She gives herself a smile before taking out her phone and snapping a few pictures of her pretty beat face.

Walking over to her closet, she pulls out the gold dress she’d be wearing this evening. Slippin it over her frame she takes in her figure I’m the mirror

She turns around looking at her backside in the mirror. Giving herself a smirk, she was satisfied with the way she looks.

Adding her gold and silver jewelry(that she may or may not have stolen) too her look, she grabs her gold clutch walking too her livingroom.

Before she could sit down on her couch a knock was placed on her door. Already knowing who it was, she grabs her phone from the table and opens the door.

The door swings open revealing Johnny in an all black suit, white button and hood tie.

“Are you trying to tell whole neo city that we have something going on?” Yn asks with a raised brow

“Is it a crime to match my date?” He asks with a smirk

And that’s when she noticed the big bouquet of red roses. She smiles and takes them

“These are beautiful, thank you” she says taking a Whiff of them

“No problem, can I please get a few pictures of you with them?” He asks making her nod. He takes out his “work” phone.

After Taking the few pictures, the two were out the door and on their way to the party

“I don’t see why we have to be here” haechan says with an eye roll

“Because we’re Neo city’s best investigators” Jaehyun says

“And? What’s that suppose to mean?” Haechan asks pulling at his tie

“This party is to celebrate those of importance, we’re important that’s why we’re here” Taeyong explains

“Well why didn’t you say that?!” Haechan says with a smirk. Jaehyun rolls his eyes looking away from haechan

“Your such an idiot sometimes” Jaehyun mumbles

Taeyong was about to scold the two but stop when his eyes land on the woman from the coffee shop. What was she doing here?

His mouth drops as she flips her long black curls over her shoulder. He watches as she smiles and shakes hands with his captain.

“Who’s she?” Jaehyun asks Taeyong

“I-I don’t know?” Taeyong says

“You said this party is for those of importance so she must be importance” Haechan says

He was right, but what made her important? He met her in a cafe. Who was she?

He watched as she locked arms with Johnny, a very well known pharmaceutical ceo. Johnny had companies all over the world. Was Yn his wife?

Taeyong clears his throat as he watch the pair walk over to him and his partners.

“Investigators, how are you this evening?” Johnny asks shaking hands with them all

“We’re good Mr.Suh how are you?” Jaehyun asks

“I’m very good, meet my personal assistant Yn” he says pushing Yn forward a bit to show her too the three men

“Hi it’s nice to meet you” she says smiling at them

“Damn!” Haechan mumbles taking a sip of his drink

Taeyong nudges him before offering Yn a smile and his hand

“Investigator lee” he says shaking her head

“I’m sorry, have we met?” She asks

“We have actually, the other morning at Mrs.Yu’s” he says making Yn gasp

“Yes! I remember how are you?” She asks

“I’m fine now that we’ve meet again” Taeyong flirts

Before she could respond, Johnny takes her hand before slowly leading her away

“Well gentlemen, we’ll be seeing you” Johnny says walking away before they could respond

“He totally has a thing for her” Haechan says

“It’s understandable, she’s beautiful” Jaehyun says sipping from his cup

Taeyong nods watching her retreating figure.

Yn had left the party early because she had an itch she couldn’t scratch. She wanted to steal. She quickly went home changed into her clothes and pinning her hair up to slip on the long gray/silver wig.

Zipping on her boots, she turns off her lights and slips out her window and starts to run the streets of neo city to find the house of her next victim.

After running and hiding for an hour, she finds a loft apartment on the fifth floor. She quickly climbs up the building peeking into one of the windows. The home was dark. The owner was either sleep or gone.

Opening the unlocked window she quickly and quietly slips into the house. Looking around and listening she couldn’t hear anybody snoring. She starts to duck walk around the livingroom making her way to the bathroom.

It seemed to be a two bedroom loft, it was upkept. Clean. Comfy. She wondered who lived there.

Moving her way to the bedroom after not finding anything in the bathroom, she immediately goes to the closet. Moving a few piles of clothes around she found a shoe box. Taking the lid off it seemed to be a savings box.

She didn’t know how much was in there but it was a lot of bills. She picks up the box smirking at the way the bills fall into her black bag. Throwing the box to the side, she moves onto the big tall black dresser.

She finds nothing but a small pocket watch and of course she puts it into her bag. Moving onto the other dresser she finds nothing in them, so she moves onto the next room that seemed to be an office.

Looking around the room she finds a few bills on the table. She picks them up and puts them into her breast. She looks around again she finds a safe. Walking over too it she sees it’s lock.

Good thing she knows how to crack it. As she bends down ready to crack it, she locks eyes with pictures frames ontop of it.

A few pictures had a family on them, one had a picture with a dog, and one had a pictures of the man she bumped into tonight. Investigator lee.

Just then the light flicks on causing her to whip around to see said man. He doesn’t see her at first but he felt her presence so he looks her way. He quickly pulls out his gun pointing it at her

"Stand with your hands up!" He says looking at the back of her head noticing the long gray hair.

Ladrona was in his home.

“Well well well...seems I've hit the jackpot" she says slowly standing with a smirk on her face

"Why is that?" Taeyong asks with a raised brow

“I just broke into the house of one of NCPD's best investigators" she says before she turns around round housing kicking the gun out of the man’s hand making it fly across the floor.

Yn quickly shoves the man into the wall. She grabs her bag off the floor and tries to make an exit for the window. She manages to get it open but Taeyong grabs her hair pulling her too the ground

She thanks the heavens she had the wig on tight.

He straddles the women pinning her wrist to the floor

“Finally! I got you!” He says making the women smirk

“Do you investigator? Or is it me that has you?” She asks confusing the man

She brings her legs up too his head flipping him off her. He groans when he hits the floor. Yn grabs her bag throwing it out the window and then herself.

“S-stop!” Taeyong says getting up with a stumble

He gets too the window watching as Yn lands on her feet of the ground. She picks up her bag before looking up at him. She smirks and waves at him before taking off running

“Got damn it!” Taeyong shouts slamming his fist down on the window seal.

Ladrona strikes again.

#ambw fic #black reader #ambw #black girls are beautiful #black reader insert #kpop poc #kpop #x black reader #x black!reader #kpop imagines #nct x reader #nct 127 x black!reader #taeyong x reader #black yn #kpop x black reader #blackfemreader #black kpop stans

11 notes · View notes

multifandomslxt · 11 months

Text

I wanna get a tattoo between my boobs fr but my boobs are huge dude they need support almost all the time smh

I'm scared it's gonna look weird

#nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct dream #nct yuta #nct taeyong #nct fluff #nct doyoung #nct x chubby reader #nct x black reader #help me yall #i want it so bad but im scareddd

31 notes · View notes

thesafecafe · 2 years

Text

NCT/WayV Masterlist (excluding some members)

Quick note: No nsfw requests will be taken for Jisung or Chenle, as it would be uncomfortable to write, and if you don’t see a member here, I probably don’t write for them. If you request a member that isn’t here, I’ll most likely decline your request.

Group

NCT 127 as your Twitter Moots

NCT 127: Helping their Black GF on wash day

NCT 127:

Taeil:

Johnny:

What You Did

Taeyong:

Yuta:

BBHMM || sequel (soon)

Jungwoo:

You’ll Always Be Mine, Baby

Mark:

Haechan:

NCT Dream + Sungchan & Shotaro:

Renjun:

Let It Snow

Jaemin:

Chenle:

Sungchan:

Shotaro:

WayV:

Kun:

Was it worth it?

Ten:

Yangyang:

Xiaojun:

Winwin:

28 notes · View notes

starillusion13 · 9 months

Text

Our Party

▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

Coming to face them after years at a club where you went to enjoy with your friends to relieve stress on a weekend is unfortunate for you.Really though? You had parted your ways back then and now they don’t matter to you. But is that same for them?

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Pairing: ot8 x f!reader (poly!ateez x reader)

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Mature, Yandere

Warnings: possessiveness, controlling act and obsession.(there are arguments between them a bit but remember Ateez is too good to do that).Gang bang. Exhibition. Oral(f.recv),dom!ateez, cum play,nipple play,anal sex, overstimulation, orgasm denial,fingering, a bit of pain, exhaustion,marking,biting,sucking, drinking, making up sex without protection ( don’t do it in real life if you don’t want to unnecessarily increase the population.)

W.C: 11.9k

Note: @justhere4kpop my dear friend has requested me for poly ateez (the one in the event post) and I can’t just ignore it so bear with this ‘don’t know what to do’ fic.

Taglist: In the end of the fic

Come on everybody. Slow it down, make it bouncy.

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Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT UNDER THE POST🔞

*Buckle up your seatbelts and lets go on a long ride.*

“Wow…...” your eyes sparkling while looking at the mirror which is reflecting your figure in the new dress. You are dressed up in a body hugging black strapless dress ending on your mid-thigh. You didn’t expect it to look so good on you. Well, you are going out to a night club with your friends after getting an off for one week from the workplace. So, to relieve the stress of your overtime work from your previous month, this is the best option for you. Satisfied with your look, you glanced at the clock and it shows exactly eight in the night and your friend might come up anytime soon to pick you up.

Just the moment you locked the main door behind you, a voice spoke up.

“Hey beautiful!” OMG don’t. This voice is so deep and attractive and you know the owner of this damn voice very well. Turning around, you found the gorgeous man standing in front of you with a white funky t-shirt and torn styled denim jeans. His newly died silver hair with this casual outfit is making him the most attractive man to ever exist.

“Oh my god Taeyong please. I mean don’t call me like this when am just your best friend, I might end up proposing you on this spot here right now.” You fake gasped and then ended up laughing with him. Your other friend who is in the car made a loud horn sound to bring both of your attention towards him, Jaehyun. Another attractive man in your life, you don’t know why they are your best friends when they could have got other girls to make friends but all three of you are friends since middle school and then are inseparable. Well maybe I look good too.

“Let’s go. Hurry up or that grumpy ass will invite the whole colony with this horn.” You both are continuously laughing on your way towards the car. Getting inside it, Taeyong sat on the passenger seat and you in the back because you love to lean in between the space of front two seats to annoy them. You three made your ride to The Neo Bouncy Club.

Getting outside the car, Taeyong holds your hand on one side and you glance to your other side to take a look of Jaehyun, then you see him in his black shirt and denims with hands folded till elbow. Oh gosh! This man. He looks at you and then smirked. Taeyong pulled you towards the entrance and the other one followed you two.

Entering the club, your nose hit with the usual alcohol smell mixed with some fruit flavored smokes. The neon green disco lights all around the dance floor blinking with the rhythm of the music playing aloud. You smiled when you remember that you are here for fun with your friends so you pulled both of them towards the drink section.

“Shall we order drinks?” hoping to get positive reply, they both denied. Weird. Jaehyun is always usually the one to offer drinks among you three then what’s the cause of sudden change in behaviour.

“I don’t think we should drink now.” The tall one said looking at you and then towards Taeyong who was busy reading out the different names of the drinks displayed on the screen and making annoyed face when not getting the actual pronunciations. You flicked on his head.

“Ouch! What?” Taeyong with confusion in his eyes looks at you both.

“I told her we should not drink now knowing who is here.” Taeyong paused for a moment, expression changing to serious similarly as Jaehyun. He then nodded on his friend’s words.

“Woah wait there. Who is here?”

If they are referring to rest of NCT then you know, Kun will scold you for drinking when he knows how badly you and Taeyong can’t control yourselves in drunk state.

“Them.”

Both of them replied together while settling down with you on one of the corner sofas. You looked at them laughing loudly.

“So? It’s not like I will listen to Kun today. I am here for fun and I can do anything so come on with me, don’t let anyone to stop us from having fun.”

Jaehyun looking directly to you when speaking.

“Y/N……. it’s not about Kun. It’s them.”

He glanced towards a crowd of people dancing, you mimic his action but saw no one. You failed to notice that someone was staring at you from there all this time. You turned back to them, “Fine. You stay here, me and Taeyong will enjoy so see you later boy.”

“Y/N-” you pulled the said man towards the dance floor with you and on your way, you both took some drinks for yourselves.

Someone behind you both did the same thing.

Taeyong turns you to face him, “Y/N, they are here. I know I should not bring up this right now but unfortunately when entering the club, I saw them, ATEEZ. All of them are here. I locked eyes with one of them and they know now that am aware of their coming.”

Your smiling face disappeared when you realized what they were referring to all these times. THEM! They are back here. So? It should not matter to you. Everything between you and them has ended long back ago and you guys have parted your ways on your own.

“So? It’s not like they matter to me anymore. I know one of them is the owner of this club but this is my favorite one and also because the hotel above this club is Jaehyun’s.”

“I know you don’t care about them” taking a sip of his drink he added, “but the look in their eyes when they saw you with me entering the club was telling otherwise.”

You both have finished your drinks so he kept the glasses on a nearest counter.

“Stop it TY. You are thinking too much. They were just probably looking at me because they saw me after two years or maybe they were looking at someone else.”

Taeyong smiled at you and he hugged you tightly. The hug felt so nice because this comfort is all you need right now, maybe you are showing off your strong personality in front of him but deep down you are afraid and sad for them.

You are sad because all your memories spent with them are flashing to you and now you get that how much you still adore those precious moments with them.

They were your family, the only family after your parents died but suddenly one day you thought that everything is wrong. Why? Maybe you thought everything in your life is not meant forever. No. Everything was right in your end except that one day when one of your old school friends was totally spreading rumors about you to them. The way they bombarded you with questions later that night hurt you and you decided to part with them when they don’t have a minimum trust for you.

You are afraid. Why? Well, you don’t know yourself.

The loud beat of the music in the background is just the contrast to the comfortable moment you are sharing with your best friend. Taeyong got a call and he looked worried but regain his composure to face you.

“Y/N? I need to go because you know we have our night business and we can’t miss that. You are here today only to enjoy but I know you can enjoy all by yourself because you prefer that way while drinking alone. Also, if you need help to go back home, just call one of the dream members from upstairs, they will help you.”

He gave you his little smile and goes towards the exit where Jaehyun was already standing, before going away, the latter gave you a quick wink towards you. What a flirt!

“You were enjoying the hug too much.” Oh! the owner of this deep voice, you know him; The owner of the club.

Turning around you fake smiled, “Mingi….” He didn’t smile rather scan your whole figure and the lights falling on his face clearly shows his tensed jaw. Is he angry? You hesitantly brushed the side of the dress to see if something is wrong or not. His dark look is going well with his all-over black outfit of black shirt and black pant.

“Didn’t you have something else to wear?”

“What?”

“This is completely looking like you have just wrapped a shiny black plastic around you just to cover your private parts leaving the rest of the body visible to all hungry eyes here.”

Okay, then he is referring to himself as well. Right?

“Excuse me. You are no one to judge me when you are also one of them.” You are getting frustrated as to why you are not getting yourself to enjoy the day instead every worst possibility is bringing them in between.

He holds one of your hands and gripped it tightly. The grip hurts you a bit but before you can react to the pain, he pulled you towards a direction.

“What the hell are you doing? Leave my hand. Where are you taking me?”

Your shouts are getting dispersed in the loud music. Some people are cursing you both when Mingi was harshly pushing away the people coming in front of you both while making his way through the crowds. You both reached near a L-shaped sofa but you didn’t notice it yet, you were busy looking at the crowd to find any of the NCT members. You suddenly tripped because Mingi suddenly stopped in his tracks, you looked at him and then towards the front.

Wait. They look so hot and more handsome than last you saw them. They all are in their casual outfits that they usually wear when going to clubs. You look at each one of them precisely, starting from left is Yeosang in a plain black t-shirt and denim sitting annoyed beside san and wooyoung in between them wearing similar outfit like him but white and blue t-shirts respectively and laughing at the phone in san’s hand. Next to San, sitting in the exact corner is Jongho in a white tee with denim jacket and jeans. He is looking down maybe thinking something. Next to him is Hongjoong and Seonghwa in leathers and lastly beside them is Yunho in white shirt folded till elbow and denim. And GIRL, He is already staring at you with his famous smirk.

“Look who is here.” Nice. Tell everyone that a special guest is here. Each one of them quickly followed Yeosang’s eyes and they saw you standing beside Mingi and glaring at him.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I told him to.” Hongjoong swirling the liquid in the glass said with a smile rather looks like a smirk. His attention is towards the glass and the liquid movement and your eyes focusing on it as well.

“Why?”

“We want you here away from those hungry eyes and those boys?” Yunho spoke from the end of the sofa and sit himself comfortably in a crossed leg position.

“Huh? What are you even saying, just shut up. I was here with my best friends and they just went for their sudden work and now I was just going to have fun with the other friends who are just upstairs.” You are getting annoyed and tried to turn around but the grip on your hand didn’t let that happen rather pulled you towards the glass table in front of them.

“Did we tell you to leave?” Seonghwa said placing the wine glass on the table.

“Why will I listen to you?”

“You actually never listened to us and always acted on your own.” Jongho looked up at your standing figure and eyes scanning the body.

“Don’t act like we know each other. Just let me enjoy my day and you guys carry on yourselves with whatever you were doing.”

“Why are you out in these clothes?” San spoke, he is no more laughing like before but glaring at you. You jerked your hands from Mingi’s grip and brushed your hairs before tugging them behind your ears.

“Oh gosh. First Mingi and now you, what is the problem of me wearing anything. This is my day to enjoy myself and you all let me do it.” Wooyoung laughed at your annoyed plead. He stands up and comes in front of you. Hands tracing your face slowly and then he gripped your jaw tightly.

“Follow what we are telling you to do or else you have to regret more.”

You parted your lips to argue back with him when Yunho comes beside you where Mingi was standing before. Where is he? Looking around, you can’t spot him anywhere. Yunho holds your hand and kiss it softly, “We missed you.” He smiles at you.

“What?” Your confused eyes staring at both the males standing near you. Seeing them after years is really telling you how much you have missed them but this is not right. You can’t be with them again. They don’t trust you or love you like once they had.

San came up to you and pulled you towards the sofa and made you sit between his thighs with Yeosang on his side. Your short dress riding up made all the males eyes focusing on your thigh. Your attempt to pull the dress down earned a slap on your thigh from him.

“Ahh…..”

“Oh love, how much I missed this sound?” Hongjoong spoke up, his eyes covered with some hairs falling in front looking directly at you. He nears to your frame and sat himself down on his knees in front of you. Putting his two hands on your bare thighs, he starts to draw patterns and this is giving you some sensation which you don’t want to feel right now. Yeosang is playing with your hairs. San is holding you tightly on the place. You were looking at Seonghwa who was busy telling a man about something and when he caught you staring at him, he spoke up, audible to his brothers.

“I got the room we asked for, let’s go there before someone becomes impatient.”

You felt a kiss on one of your thighs and when you look down, the man sitting in front of you is smiling innocently. He speaks softly, “that’s good then.”

“I can’t wait for that.” Wooyoung said excitedly while putting a hand around Yunho. The latter agreed nodding his head.

You heard someone whispered in your ears beside you, “me too.” His breath fanning over your ears. When you look that way, you see Yeosang smirking at you.

“I’m not going anywhere with you all.” You glared at Yeosang but your body becomes stiff when San’s hot breath hits your other ear and he licks the ear lobe.

“San…..”

“Yes pretty. Dou you want something?” You look towards others where some are either smirking or others pretending as if everything is normal.

“Who said we are going to listen to you?” Jongho suddenly spoke from the corner and you both turned to that direction.

Honjoong is still sitting down in front of you and when your gaze falls on him, he smiles “Let’s talk out everything first. Will you?”

You nodded on his words and Seonghwa directed all of you to the destined room.

On your way to the private room, you are hoping to stumble with any of your friends and then you can just escape this situation. Somehow, in the corner of your mind, you are feeling excited to meet them again after such a long time and just don’t want to ruin the moment when you just got back them.

Entering the room, your heartbeat increases and you can smell your favorite aroma of air freshner and the red led light decoration making the atmosphere unnecessarily too hot even when there is an air condition.

“Come Y/N.”

The oldest who is having a firm grip around your wrist all the way from downstairs to the second floor of the hotel pulls you to a corner. There was a similar L-shaped corner sofa with two mini sofas on other sides of the tea table. All the males scattered themselves around the room. You sit on the mini sofa facing the bed and you can see Wooyoung and San sitting on the edge with their focus on you. You avert your eyes to the corner chair beside the bed where Jongho is sitting and rummaging through the drawers of the bedside stand. Then, there Seonghwa is already sitting beside you holding your hands on his lap and waiting for others to settle down.

“Y/N? How are you?” Yeosang asked you slowly from the other mini sofa.

Your eyes search for any roguish look on his face but his look is otherwise, “I’m fine. Of course, I need to be fine when you all just being out there believing some bitch.”

“It’s not like that Y/N.”

“Then what is it Hongjoong?” You looked over to the big space where Yunho sitting near you and then Hongjoong to your exact opposite and beside him Mingi.

“You misunderstood us.”

“Look Mingi, now you can’t make myself the guilty here.”

“Y/N, please relax and listen.” Seonghwa squeezed your hand.

“I’m trying but I don’t know what’s the point of explaining anything when everything was over back then and we are good on our own way.”

“No one is better than having you around with us.” Yunho said. “You are not happy too.”

“I am fine and all these months I was enjoying my new life without you all.”

“Yeah, sure those two boys are really keeping company with you in every possible way, no wonder how you both were hugging each other.”

“He is my bestfriend.”

Some made noises of annoyance or some just ‘tsch’ in reply.

“Y/N. I’m sorry.”

Seonghwa is always the first one to apologise to you or to other seven of them because him being the oldest, he never tries to show his authority like Hongjoong but wanted to take responsibilities of everyone’s problem and make them feel at ease by reminding them that he can take care of them.

“I’m sorry that we acted like that. We didn’t mean to upset you rather we were just trying to know the real story apart from her lies. I guess we should have given you some time. You seemed upset when she treated you like that on that day.”

Yunho added, “We never trusted her single word. We believe in you. We only believe you baby.”

“Even if I lie?”

“Yes.”

“How come you never try to find me or never tried to convince me to get me back home?”

Hongjoong made an eye contact with you, “Who told we never know your whereabouts?”

“Huh?”

Yeosang smiled, “We have been keeping updates about you every day and so that’s why I just asked you how are you.”

“So, you all were stalking me?”

“Well absolutely because we can’t let anyone get to own what is ours.”

“You are stupid Mingi. It’s not like some random people gets to own me whenever they want.”

“It’s not about some randomness. We can see how you have this little crush on Jaehyun.” San suddenly spoke up from the bed and then when you saw that everybody’s eyes are on you.

“WTH! He and Taeyong are my bestfriends and they were always there with me whenever I needed help and I always have the assurance to run back to them to escape my problem.”

“And what about us? Were we not there?”

“Wooyoung. I didn’t mean that.”

“Did we not help you with anything? We were the one you cried and spend sleepless nights for your parents. We were the one who always prioritize you on the top before anything. We cared about your happiness, your career, your needs and your love. We used to keep you at home only to ourselves but when we found out your loneliness, we let you to go outside to have fun with your friends but now your friends are everything to you only just because of that one night misunderstanding.”

“Woo- “

“No. I don’t want to listen.”

“Wooyoung, shut up.”

The one beside you made him shut up and hold your face to look at his smiling face, “We know that you still miss us. You are just afraid how to express yourself after all these months.”

“I don’t know…” wooyoung made a ‘tsch’ sound and Jongho shot him a glare.

Hongjoong poured his drink in a glass from one of the bottles displayed on the centre table, “We are not here for casual talk. Why do you think we are here today? Coincidence? No, not really. We knew about your plans for today from some NCT members and this was the only chance to have you talk to us somewhere private.”

“I don’t want to talk to any of you. I have to go.”

“Do you think after waiting for all these times and letting you to collect yourself just to say sorry and let you go?”

“Why will you not let me go? I understand that I misunderstood you all but you could have convinced me to return in some other ways.”

“You would not have listen.”

“Jongho….. I waited everyday for one of you to come and take me back to where I actually belong. No one came and now after all these days here, you are suddenly apologizing to me for that day.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks and you clutched Seonghwa’s jacket when he hugged you. His cologne hits your nose and then when your memories with him flashed in front of you.

“Shh.. It’s okay. We are here now and you are not alone.”

“You all will leave me alone again if this kind of thing happen in future. Wooyoung will blame me for everything again. I don’t need your sympathy when I know nothing will last long.”

“Y/N.”

Someone is behind you and the person is stroking your head to calm down your sobs.

“You used to share everything with me. So, trust me after seeing your condition like this, none of us are going to let this repeat again.”

You collect yourself but your face is messed up with tear strains and loose hairs all over your face. You turned to see the person behind you and see San giving you a comforting smile. You look around the room for once and then poured a glass for yourself not knowing if you even like the drink or not. Yeosang was about to stop you from drinking it but you stare at him and Hongjoong prevents him from interrupting you. The leader is the only one who knows you well, exactly how much your body is adaptable to everything. You chugged down the drink of bitter taste with closed eyes. In this messed up situation, the bitter taste seems somewhat pleasant but still the disgust on your face extended a glass of water from Mingi.

“We wanted to get you back but Taeyong threatened us not to go near you or he might have to report us”, Mingi said.

“I didn’t know. He did?”

“Of course, he would not have told you. He never wanted you to be stressed more. No matter what, we should have come to you earlier.”

“How can I believe you?”

“How you want to believe us?”

“Do you- Do you all still love me?”

Hongjoong chuckled, “What is your wild guess?”

“I don’t know….”

“Your mind is really working slow today. You are the only mean to live our life. We are nothing without you. You don’t know how some of them were like after you left us. You are the heart of our party. They were uncontrollable without you but to give you space I had to restrain them from all the possible acts they could have pulled off to get you back. Wooyoung was in top of that list and that’s why he spoke to you like that earlier.”

Your eyes followed where the said man is sitting and when he saw you staring at him, he avoided your gaze.

“Prove it.”

Your eyes taking in their looks with equal amount of time to each and their confused face staring down at you.

“What?”

“Prove it that you all still love me.”

“Y/N….”

“Do it before I change my mind.”

“All of us?”

“Yes.”

Seonghwa exchanged a look with Hongjoong when he guides you towards the bed and Wooyoung stood up and takes your previous spot.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes. You all said that I am the heart of your party so prove how important is this heart to you to enjoy your party.”

Without wasting a second moment to hear your complaints or for you to change your mind suddenly, he attached his lips to you and your back slowly hit the bed with him on top of yourself. You closed your eyes on the impact and let him do whatever he wants to do right now. His soft hands brushing your cheeks and lips dancing with yours as if they are the ones dancing on a rhythm in this party with the melody of all past memories. His kiss always tastes sweet and you don’t know whether its because of his strawberry addiction or his sweet love for you. You opened your eyes to look at him and see him already staring at you with heart eyes. When you both were out of breath, he moved back and rested his forehead on yours.

“I missed us.”

“Me too.”

You are somewhat warm to know that Seonghwa is the one leading the situation to wherever this is going. You feel a bit shy on seeing their lustful eyes are all on you. Seonghwa takes your act to let him assure you.

“It’s okay Y/N. You don’t have to be shy. Its not like we haven’t seen this before.”

You nodded and let him to ride up your dress to expose your panty. His face moved closer to the heat and kissed your clothed clit. You gasped on the sudden contact and clutched his hair. He sits himself on his knees to remove his jacket and shirt and reveal his abs and well-built muscles and then when you can see those flexing muscles, the muscles which kept you warm underneath it, in tired nights

Your spread-out body in the middle of the bed is getting the attention of eight males all at once and this is sending sparks to you. Every touch from the man near your feet is igniting the spark. These touches and the longingness in their eyes for you. You have missed all of these so much. You missed laughing with them, waking up with them after cuddle nights or sex nights. Them showing love to you in different ways and you returning the love to them is what you missed all these past months.

Seonghwa returned to resume his action and this time he slides down your panty to expose the main treat of the party. He quickly licked a mouthful strip of your arousal and you moaned. Your moan earned some grunts from all around the room.

“My pretty baby tastes the sweetest.” He inserted a finger to prep you and the bed dip beside your head. You avert your gaze from the man between your legs to the new comer beside you to see Jongho peeking down at you. He brushed your hairs away from your face and give you a soft smile.

“You don’t need to supress your moans. Please let us hear you. I missed your sweet sounds when you are feeling so good.”

“Jongho…”

The sudden curl of the finger hit your g-spot and you move your attention to the man below who is eager to have your eyes on him when he is the one giving you pleasure. Getting the attention he needed, he plopped inside another finger to stretch you out and his thumb spreading your juices all over the folds and the walls inside as if he is preparing his favorite dessert with garnishing it with chocolate syrup. Your silent moans turned into a big gasp when he suddenly entered you. You didn’t notice how he paused for a moment to free himself from his pants and then enter you when he felt you are ready.

“Seonghwa!”

“It’s okay baby. Calm down. Relax and just focus on the pleasure not the pain.”

Jongho kissed your head and added, “You came here to relax and enjoy in the first place. So, we will have every possible way to take away all of you pain and let you enjoy our private party.”

Your teary eyes stare directly to Seonghwa’s lustful eyes, “h-have you taken the protection?”

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to think about becoming a mother of my child right now.”

“That’s only his words. You can’t be sure of others.”

Everyone chuckled on Wooyong’s yell for accusing Seonghwa. Your pain turns into pleasure with the increase of the intensity of each thrust. Seonghwa intertwined his fingers with you and kissed you softly and thrusts you deeper hitting your g-spot. Seonghwa is always the one who is gentle with you whenever you are not in a mood but he can be a monster if you allow him to wreck you. Being the oldest has a lot of responsibilities but you never treated him that way and let him feel he can also voice out his problems to you. You always loved hearing him and then spending days and nights with him.

You moaned into his mouth when he is hitting your spot to the edge and with a last hit, you let it loose. Seonghwa grunt and slowed his movement

“Seonghwa….”

“Fuck.”

As promised, he pulled it out quickly to let his seeds spill over your belly and wiping it off slightly. The feeling of love by Seonghwa and him being so close with you and your fragile body shaking under his warmth.

“I love you Y/n.” You nodded and collecting your thoughts to reply him back but he kisses you on the forehead and shushed you.

“It’s okay love, you don’t have to say anything to me. I know you love me but just let me prove it to you. For now, you only listen to me and you can say it to me someday later.”

All this time, Jongho was praising you with sweet words and stroking your head to ease you. Seonghwa retreat himself to disappear into washroom and dressed up himself only in boxers and pants. Your foggy head is not taking in the surrounding well but suddenly you felt someone kissed your feet and in reflex you curl your toes, a shirtless Yeosang trailing kisses from your feet up to your leg and inner thigh with adoration in his eyes is looking up to you.

“Yeosang…I….need you.”

“Wait a moment bird, let me adore my bird’s delicate body after so many months. I missed this heat radiating from you. My cold lips were aching for your heat and I can’t waste any bit of it."

Your juices mixed with Seonghwa’s are still leaking from you and you felt his hot breath near your core and then your legs trying to close the distance. His strong hands grip your thigh to make it still and he rose his body to hover you and pull off the dress from you revealing your hidden delicacy to him. He eyed you intensely and smiled at you. He plopped a boob inside his mouth earning a loud moan from you.

“Yeosang!”

“Mine.”

He repeated the action to your other one and sucking the nipples hard. Your hands gripping the bedsheet strongly as if you will float if you lose the grip. He kissed on the middle of the chest and the kisses moved from your chest to shoulders and stomach and then to your lips. The kiss is delicate, too delicate than his previous actions but it is quick because you can feel his hands moved away from your breasts to his pants to free his paining tiny member. His member is teasing your entrance and you are whimpering under him. With a last kiss, he thrusts inside you. His thrusts are rough, not too rough but a bit rougher than the oldest one with whom you spent a soft sex few moments ago.

“Slow down. Y-you are t-too fast..”

“It’s okay bird. It will be okay. Just take it. I know you can.”

You moved your head sideways in pleasure to see Jongho is still on your left but this time Mingi has sat himself on the other side mimicking jongho’s posture. When he locks eyes with you, he gives you a soft smile. You can see seonghwa sitting on a chair near the bed just behind Jongho. They are all coming near to you even when you are in such intimate position with another member. They are trying to be close with you with every passing minute. Your hands strangled in Yeosang’s hair earning a grunt of pain when you pull his hair on him hitting your spot.

“Ah….”

“Say it loud. Let me hear my bird’s sweet melody.” He moved down to suck your neck and bites it leaving some bruises all over the neck.

With last three deep thrusts, you both cum together. He is still riding out his high and you with your blissed out face staring at him.

“I love you Y/N, my bird.” He scans your face and added, “Don’t say anything. We only want you to hear us today. I want to hear the sweet melody of my bird.”

He pecked you before retreating himself and giving you the kindest smile and went away. Your eyes followed him until your vision got blocked by Jongho’s muscular figure. He is taking off his shirt and your eyes following his movements that how quickly he was with freeing himself from all the unwanted materials on his body. You craned your neck to see San taking Jongho’s previous position and he smiled at you.

They all are smiling at you whenever you are locking eyes with them.

‘Are they mocking me?’

‘Are they making fun of my current situation?’

They are not interrupting others when they are having their private moments with you. They are giving you space even when they are practically so close with you. Mingi on other side is still occasionally stroking your upper arm or your shoulders to sense your uncomfortableness.

“Y/N. You are again overthinking. Your creased eyebrows and confused eyes literally telling me everything.”

This boy always understands you even when you don’t speak out your thoughts and still always try to calm you down with your overthinking nature. Jongho is always a reserved member among them and you know he is generally shy showing his feelings towards you and you are sure, he will hesitate to show his love for you in front of the presence of others.

“I missed you so much Y/N.”

Your mind cleared a bit to register his words and you try to give him a little smile. He reveals his gummy smile which totally making him look like a naked teenage boy standing at the foot of the bed. He quickly hovered you to trail kisses from your belly to your chest and to your lips. But, he didn’t kiss. He kissed you on the forehead.

“I want to break down this delicate body under me, with my love. But not today. Maybe some other day when it will be only you and me.”

“Jongho, its okay if you-“

“Shhhh…We told you to be quiet. Don’t speak and just enjoy the party.” And with that he thrusts inside you with his lips on you. You gasped into his mouth and he took the opportunity to explore the inside of your mouth with your teeths crashing each other and tongues rolling over, mixing your salivas. Every kind of fluid of your bodies are mixing at the moment, the way your hearts are sealing to each other again. His thrusts are fast and with your previous orgasms, this one brings you to your next one closer too soon. His hands gripping your hip is definitely leaving bruised and his handprints and similarly your one hand gripping his hair and the other one bedsheet.

“I’m c-close Jon-g-gho.”

“Me t-too.”

That’s it. He quickly pulled out and moved apart.

‘Yeosang didn’t pull out.’ Jongho noticing your actions, quickly sush you by telling you that they will give you pills later if necessary.

“I love you, my apple.” he paused to stare at you for few seconds and added, “I had no one to read them stories to sleep. You were not there to ask me how was my day and to know my problems which I try to hide back from everyone. I’m so happy to get you back to myself. Losing you was the biggest nightmare to me.”

He giving you his gummy smile for the last time, went away. Someone is stroking your legs from the other side and then when you see hongjoong with a concern on his face looking at you.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. You can’t reply with your fucked up mind. You are thinking of letters to form a word.

“You can go for more right?”

You again nodded. He took this as his signal to prepare himself to come closer to your body. San wiped off some of your sweat from the face and pat your head. Your attention is full on the leader. The way he took off his jacket attractively and throwing it off on the sofa and then swiftly removing his t-shirt showing his hard works on building his perfect body as he desired for himself. No. The body he always eager to build up to show you that he is better than everyone for you and only you. Of course, not comparing to his other members of the group.

“Follow the light signal, okay? If you are feeling too much, just tell me the light.”

With your assurance, he brings his face near your heat and giving it a peck before sliding in his tongue and sucking your clit hard.

“Hongjoong...”

Every inch of your body is delicate and your core is literally a flooded tank. He is sucking up all your leaking juice. He can be the one to listen to everybody patiently and coming up with final decisions but he is not patient inside the locked doors. He is never gentle with you on bed because he likes to show off his authority even if it means during the sex.

The moment you were close with your climax, he stops and moved upward to kiss you. The example of not being gentle. He ignored your whimpers and kissed you roughly. The way he is moving his lips as if you are his ‘thirty seconds to fame’ artwork and he has to give his all in his art to prove himself the best to you.

He inserts you and he grunts on feeling the wet walls swallowing him. You gripped his shoulders to take him inside your sensitive part without any pain.

“I am the best for you, You are mine. No one can take you away from me.”

“Hongjoong-“

“Mine to love. Mine to hate. Your everything is mine.”

His thrusts are fast and rough. He has no patience or mercy for you during this moment but he always apologizes later for his actions. But you kinda like him this way because of his way, this side is what turns you on the most and the first time you fell in love with him was when he was angry with Wooyoung at an event in college. Well speaking of this another boy, you can hear someone saying he would be the last one to participate in this party.

“Fuck.”

He didn’t pull out but thrusts deeper and you let him to do it until he rode out his high. You don’t have anymore energy to fight him back or to explain anything to anyone.

“I love you, my lady.”

“Hmm..”

“I love you and want to show you everything I can do for you. I will wait for your orders everytime, scold me, hit me, shout at me but don’t leave me again. Please.” You nodded.

He caressed your cheeks and kissed your lips then forehead and then finally on your chest before detaching himself and went away.

You are lifted up by someone pulling your hands and making you sit when you felt the bed dips behind you. You slightly open your eyes to see freshen up Yeosang holding your weak body and smiling down at you. Before you can contemplate what is going on, a pair of hands turn you around and made you sit facing them. The person was sitting naked leaning to the headboard and legs spread wide open and you in between his legs and your legs over his on either side. Your body is a bit too weak to handle your sitting posture on your own so the person in front of you is supporting your balance.

“Are you still with me Y/N?”

“M-mingi…”

Your previous orgasms are still hitting your body and you are floating in Cloud 9. You don’t know if your make up is still okay or how is even your smudged face looking like right now. You are definitely reflecting ugliness to him. His one hand keeping your balance and the other one caressing your face. Your thoughts are clouding between their genuine love for you and they be leaving you for being so ugly at this moment.

“Yes doll, it’s me. Your Mingi.”

“I-I’m with you…Don’t leave me.”

“No one is leaving you, my doll.” Your sensitive and delicate body cant control your emotions and you started sobbing. Mingi wiped off your rolling tears and kissed the tear stained cheek.

“Can you take me?”

You nodded on his words and then he guides you to sit on his member. You jerked when his hard tiny partner hit your soft folds.

“Ah…”

“Just tell me if you are not okay and I will stop. I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to relax.”

“Mingi…..I can do it. I’m….I’m fine.” Your tried to move your hips when he grips it still to make you stop.

“Whats wrong?” you are scared if you have done anything wrong but Mingi’s assuring smile made you calm.

“Stay still. I told you to relax so let me do all the work.”

He is grinding his hips and thrusting upwards making you bounce on his laps. Your moans and whimpers echoed in the room. Your hands holding tightly Mingi’s shoulders for your dear life. Your body is too weak but you don’t want to make him stop to make him feel like he is hurting you. He is not hurting you maybe his words did that day but not today. He is a very sensitive person when comes to emotions but he can handle them very well to make others valuable with the attention they needed when they are vulnerable so he stays strong. Maybe he is a giant one in the group but he is really a softie when it comes to care for you. The sweet words flow from his mouth with his deep voice is really something that make you feel like the most precious person.

“You are doing so good for me doll.” He added,“Are you okay?”

“Yes…just too much.”

“Am I hurting you?” he slowed down his movements to which you squeezed your hold on him. His hands tracing your side frame to release any sort of tension in your body because of discomfort.

“NO NO Mingi. Please don’t stop. Its just too much at a time but please don’t stop. I want you. I need you to fill me up.”

He kissed your lips to make your ramblings stop. He knows that you are not in your right mind at this moment but you are conscious enough to let him know if you are on the verge to fall apart. His thrusts are a bit too deep and you can feel his length poking inside of you and then when it hit the g-spot. The familiar building up of a knot in your stomach sends a shiver all through your body. His one hand holding your hips to thrust into you and other hand holding your neck to deepen the kiss. He is kissing you with passion like you both kissed on your first day. This memory flash to your mind and you smiled a little in your kiss.

“Why a-are you s-smiling?”

You shook your head and rest your head on his shoulder and your mouth near his ears. Your hot breath on his neck is pushing him to the climax.

“I-I’m go-going to cum.”

“Cum on me doll.”

Your knot looses and let yourself break free. He caressed your bare back and kissed your shoulder. His thrusts for three more times and then he quickly pulls himself out to spill his seeds on your lower belly. He pats your head and your eyes closed to the touch.

“I love you, my doll. I missed you so much.”

He kissed you on your head and you can feel someone pulls you away from him and puts you on their lap. Your hooded eyes try to take in the situation but your hazy vision is not letting you to get a grip of the image of your surroundings. Your heavy breathing slowed down and someone is rocking you on their lap like you are a baby being protected from the monsters of your night mare.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Relax. I’m here. Take some rest.”

“Yunho…. No…. I can.”

“Shhh….Close your eyes. Calm your nerves. You are too exhausted and I don’t want to make you feel overwhelmed.”

You slightly open your eyes to look around to find Seonghwa, Hongjoong, yeosang and Jongho are all dressed up and sitting on the sofa and honjoong is looking back at you while rest three of them are busy with something. He nodded to your direction, you can feel yunho is speaking something but you cant make out the words or even you don’t know if he is speaking to you or someone else. Your legs loosely placed together on one side of his lap and your whole body engulfed in his warm hug. His hot tight abs are in touch with your melting weak body making you the most delicate thing in that room.

The air is filled up with the smell of drinks and sex. You are not a fan of drinking other than enjoying your vodka from this club but the taste of different flavors from the different kisses and sharing such intimate moments during the taste is what you love the most with them. That’s why you missed coming to clubs with them.

It was never been easy to be in a poly relationship with eight boys but their love for you really proved their genuine need of you in their life. Everytime you thought back then to end this thing between you all, they pulled out something different each time to make you forget about your decisions. You loved it. You loved them equally but differently. Their way of showing you love is always different from others and you liked the uniqueness and loved them in their own way. Maybe you want different kinds of love at a time which is not burdening you or overwhelming you but making you feel safe and important.

San sitting on the bed near you caressed your legs when he sees you zoning out. Your eyes travel back to his face and he signalled you to close your eyes. You let the exhaustion engulf you and snuggled into Yunho’s neck to which he holds you tighter.

The atmosphere is silent and the sound of air conditioner is audible which had no existence to your ears few seconds back. The room is cold and even every specific thing inside the room is quite cold except the warm bodies all around the room. A tiny sleeping body is being hugged by a giant in his boxers and staring down at the figure in his hold. Another pair of eyes is focusing on the sleeping face.

“San. Do you want to go next?”

The pair of eyes travels from your face up to the speaking person’s face to give him a head shake.

“ No Yunho. Last time she saw you and wanted you. It’s better if you go next. I can wait here unlike someone else.” He glanced to the person sitting on the other side on the other side of the bed.

“Shut up. I am waiting for my turn since the first person made his move. If you were in my position then only you could have felt my pain.”

“Oh! So painful story. I’m so hurt hearing you. Can I help you with it?”

Wooyoung made an annoyed face and throw a pillow at the smirking person. Suddenly a phone starts to ring from the bedside table and it was yours with the caller id ‘Markieee’ on display. Wooyoung quickly picked it up before it can disturb your sleep even more.

“Hello?”

“Yo girl Y/N. Where are you? Taeyong told us you will be near the dance floor but couldn’t find.”

“She is not in the club.”

“Who are you?”

“Lot more important one than you in her life.”

“Huh? Tell me you shit. Is my Y/N okay? Where is she?”

“She is not your-“

Hongjoong snatched away the phone from his hold to shot him a glare and smiled in the call.

“She is safe with us. I’m Hongjoong. Tell me where you are right now and I can go explain it to you.”

Ending the call with Mark, he signalled Seonghwa and Jongho to follow him. They glanced at you for the last time before leaving the room. Yeosang scan around the bed and returned his attention to whatever he was doing on his phone.

More than one hour has passed after you fell asleep. Yunho laid you down in the middle of the bed and went towards your feet. He holds your ankle and moved them apart revealing your now dried up cunt. He kissed on your knees and then in your inner thighs. His sloppy kiss echoed around the room and then he was mouthing your heat. Your slow movements made him halt and you blinked your eyes open to quickly notice the commotion between your legs. The giant man sends a smile to your sleepy face.

“Wake up, Tiny.”

Your body squirming under his tight grip on your hip to devour you. His tongue knows the exact turn and twist to give you the sparks and to make you feel good in no time. Your hands gripping the bedsheet moves down to strangle his hairs and pushed him further into your heat but he groans.

“You are hurting me. Let me be on my own. Move your hands.”

You quickly retreat your hands but when his tongue starts to play in fast pace, it made your back curled up and your hands again tried to approach him but got held by the two men on your either side.

“Easy there. Take it. We know you can.”

“San. I cant. I want to touch him, please.”

“You will. Just wait a moment.” His words assured you and you hit your climax. You can feel Yunho is sucking up all your spilling juices and with a last kiss, he moves upward to kiss you on your lips to give you a taste of yourself for the first time this night. His kiss is slow and dominative and the way he is biting your lips, you know it will be swollen later.

“The tiny one is the sweetest.” He slightly taps your nose with a finger made you giggle a bit.

Yunho, he is always the dominative one on bed. He will listen to all your sulking demands other times but you can’t get to say a single word on bed. He likes to wreck you and see you whimper underneath him, he likes to watch you fall apart under him because that is how he knows that he is making you feel good like no one else can ever do. The way he pushed himself into you and tears pooled in the corner of your eyes. They left your hand loose and you quickly hugged Yunho who is hovering your tiny frame and your hands wander over his flexing back.

Feeling your hands tickling to his skin, he thrusts deeper and hits your spot making you scream out his name.

“Yunho!”

“Am I making you feel good? Say it tiny.”

“Yes yes you are.”

He moves his face closer to your neck and sucks your sweet spot before biting it down in the process. Your fingers dig deeper into his back and your nails scratching leaving read marks all over. He likes to be marked like this and to see it later that how he can perfectly get a hold of you and make you feel good. The increase of his pace ignites your body knowing that he is also close to the edge like you. His wet mouth sounds leaving marks all over your neck and collar bones and you moaning his name near his ears filled the room.

“Cum.”

You didn’t even let the word to complete and you come on his dick. He came inside you and ride out his high with you. Your mind this time again hit with the thought of possibilities of pregnancy. He pressed your folds tightly to not let to leak it out from you.

"Look at me."

“Yunho why-“

“I wanted to release myself inside of you. I missed us inside each other please.”

You nodded your head remembering how one of them had said to give you the pills and to stress on that. His fingers tracing over the marks over your soft skin and he smiled to them and other hand caressing your head to calm your restless nerves after the release. His sweats falling over your face is getting mixed with your own. You don’t mind if you get filled up with his sweats instead of his seeds.

“I love you tiny.” He paused to see if you are listening to him or not but when you nodded, he continues. “I missed how your tiny body fits perfectly under my cage. You are perfect to be mine.”

He pulls off himself and kissed your tummy before going away from the scene.

Someone caressed your cheek from your side and the touch is very familiar because the pattern he is tracing is his name. You slowly hold his hand and looked at him.

“San.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“You can continue the party, right?”

“Yes, I can. Please san come here and let me show you.”

“Slowly. Slow down there, princess. I can see you don’t want me to feel left out but my first priority is you being fine with this.”

“Yes, I am fine with everything.”

“Really?” This time, wooyoung spoke up with a concern in his question.

“You all really proved me that no matter how far we were, you never forgot every detail of my body and the way you all used to love me.”

San has prepped himself and positioned himself between your legs. Your juices leaked out a little but he is stretching out your folds with his fingers to make some space available for his length. Wooyoung got up when Yeosang and Mingi called him towards them and then when you can hear Mingi has bought some clothes from downstairs and the rest words you cant figure out anymore.

“don’t think we all love you only for your body and to fulfil our needs.”

Your eyes meet San’s intense gaze. He is staring at you as if he is watching every single movement of his prey before jumping on them.

“Huh?”

“We love you because you are the only heart in our life.”

He is thrusting slowly and deeply. He is thrusting deeper with each sentence. He is always the one who likes to speak out his thoughts and make others to do the same to prevent misunderstanding and he was the first one who accused you on your friend’s rumors. He tried to apologize to you later but you never listened and today you are going to give your all ears to him.

“I know.”

“We love you because you were the one, the one we needed in our life to make us fill up the empty spaces, to make us believe in ourselves, to let us be our best. We love you because you are Y/N. You are always different from every girl we came across. If we only wanted to fuck then we could have done with someone else but to make us closer, to turn our relationship more intimate, this was the only option to show you love.”

He added, “The day you decided to leave us we didn’t stop you because we were also hating us to make you feel like we don’t trust you. Please trust me, you cant imagine how we tortured ourselves to hurt you that day. We want to forget that worst of a day and that’s why we are trying to prove us today.”

“Its okay San. You don’t have to explain me all these. Apart from having sex, you all have always proved your genuine love to me in your other actions and I cant explain how lucky I feel to be myself and to be with you all.”

He caressed your cheeks and thrust deeper increasing his pace. He hovers his palm over your boobs and squeezed them earning a loud gasp from you. You gripped the bedsheet tight and let your toes curl and hit the bed. He is hitting your g-spot and your muscles are becoming tensed with the building up of the knot inside you. He is trying to be gentle with you but losing himself in the way.

“San.. more MORE please.”

“yes princess, there you go.”

He is squeezing your breasts, taking one in the mouth and massaging the other one. He is also biting down the region around your boobs to mark you and every time he is releasing the skin from his mouth creating a sloppy sound. He trails the kisses from your chest to the jaw and to your lips tracing a line of saliva.

He is kissing you with the rhythm similar to the wet sounds from where you both are connected down with each other. Both of your sweaty body glowing under the dim light of the room. Your one hand travelled into his hairs when he again goes down to suck your boob. His one hand is squeezing and massaging you and the other one rubbing circles on your clit.

“San…I-I am close….please..”

“I know. Hold on a bit more and you will get what you want.”

He pushed into you deeper if its even possible and then when he asked you to come on his dick. He pulled it out and release himself on your thigh. You both are breathing heavily with him on top of you and the air is a mixture of smell of sweat and different sex. The mixed smell of sweat and sex is the smell of love. The wet sounds, the moans, the grunts, those bites, kiss, those praises during the thrusts are the symbols of love and all these months and years, you have missed it so much.

“I love you, my princess. I was a bad prince to you but now I have to prove myself to be the better one than all those in fairytales.”

You look over to him with your hooded eyes and smiling face and then when he kissed on your eyes and moved back to get over you.

The time didn’t even pass for a second when someone is patting your cheeks. When you open your eyes, you can see wooyoung peeking to you with lust and concern in his eyes.

“Are you with me?”

“hmm….”

Everything is now a bit more sensitive to you. You are curling your hands and legs causing the bedsheet to get displace even when its already wrecked. Your eyes which you can barely keep open for a second followed him. Taking your consciousness as a sign, he took off his boxers and climbs the bed to sit leaning to the headboard. He pulled you up with Yunho helping him to make you sit on his lap. His length is poking in your lower back and your hands travelled to touch it.

“Don’t.”

Your shook your head. Why? Does he not want you? Is he angry with you because he is your last? Tears roll down your eyes. You are sobbing on his lap and your bare back hits his sweaty tanned chest when he pulls you back and holds your chin to make you face him.

“Why are you crying?”

“I don’t want you to think I love others more and didn’t let you join before. I know you are already angry with me more because of what happened when we came to this room.”

“Shh..babygirl..stop crying. I’m not angry with you. I cant be angry with you eveer. I was just….. just felt hurt to see you after so long and your words and thoughts towards my brothers hurt me. I know you are going through a lot of emotions and was just ranting on it. Please forgive me.”

He pecks you.

“Wooyoung, I know you are hurt. I know everyone was hurt. I should have thought about your side as well. You all never left my side but I didn’t let you all to explain to me or try to understand and being a selfish girl to you all. I don’t deserve you back as I had part my ways like that.”

He shook his head and hid hand pats your head, “ Don’t say like that. We don’t know how we are so lucky to have someone like you in our life. You are the one we don’t deserve. You are too precious and perfect for us.”

“Woo-“ His middle finger slips inside your folds and push into you deeper and two fingers stretching you out and his palm pressing on your clit.

You hold his wrist and other grip his thigh. You are squeezing your eyes shut and your every limb of the body is weak and fragile and he is delicately handling every inch of it.

“Anything wrong?”

“No..but you don’t have to prepare me and please I know you are waiting for too long.”

He chuckles on your words. His fingers going in a faster pace and he is sucking your ears and the licking wet sounds and his grunts filling your ears sending direct spark to your core.

“Woo-young.”

“Hm?”

“I need you to fill me up.”

“Sush it because I wont be gentle like any of them. The moment I will insert you, you have to break apart in my arms.”

The curl of his finger and hitting the exact spot was the last thing you need to break loose on his fingers. You are just letting yourself calm down with your release when he inserts his length to your back hole.

“Wooyoung!”

“Is it hurting you? Should I stop here?”

Yunho ran to your side and then when you lift your head up and your teary eyes looking up to him.

“What happened Y/N?”

“No nothing. Its just…I didn’t expect it all of a sudden.” He holds your face and scans if you are lying or not. Wooyoung holding you still with his grip on you hip so that you can’t hurt yourself with any little movement with him inside of you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes Yunho.”

Nodding his head, he went back to join others and you can see others. Wait! Only Yunho, Yeosang and San is there but where are the others? Yeosang caught you looking at them confused and saw your orbs searching for others.

“Y/N?”

“Where-“

“The rest of them are downstairs. You don’t have to worry. No one has left you.”

Wooyoung taps your shoulders to signal you about him wanting to move. You nodded and he started to grind his hip forward to thrust inside you. You craned your neck to look towards him and he kissed your nose and then your lips. You can feel the taste of alcohol the most in his kiss because he drinks the most than others and he likes to taste different flavors. His hands squeezing your boobs and moving all over the chest and belly even sometimes pinching the nipples. He is literally sucking your lips and if possible, he can eat you up in any instant. You can feel his desperation in feeling you after such long time and even it feels too much for you, you will not tell him to stop because you want him to love you this way, in his own way.

He is always the most energetic and hyped up in the group and he cares for others before himself. If anyone bad mouth or insults him, it does not matter to him until someone doing the same with his close ones.

He breaks the kiss to move your hairs from your back and kissing your upper back and sucking and biting it in the way because he wants some other space, his own to mark you and to make you feel his love in a different way.

He is thrusting you harshly and the rhythm is very rough and hitting every corner of the hole and you can feel his length is exploring around your inside and stretching it out.

Your body is tensing up and his sloppy thrusts are indicating you that he is close and you are also reaching your climax. His one hand gripping tightly your hip and the other one pressing your clit to make you feel his thrust deeper. His thrusts are really rough and he is not willing to be gentle with you for once but you know if you warn him a bit for your discomfort, he is going to stop with his actions just for you to be comfortable with him.

“I’m gonna cum Woo.”

“Fuck.” He releases inside of you.

Your body shaking in his hold and his forehead is resting on your shoulder. Heavy breathing of two bodies along with heat radiating from both of you is mixing with the smell of the sex. He has totally wrecked you and you are vision is hazy and your mind is totally foggy after the rough sex.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” your reply is near to a whisper but still audible to him. He pulls out and positioned your body sidewise in his arms to take a look of your smudge makeup look.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No. I’m okay. I-“

“I love you, my babygirl.” He kissed you on the nose and pecked your lips. “I am happy that you are finally in my arms. So vulnerable and so delicate and all because of me and us.”

He is hugging you tightly and caressing your body softly, just the contrasting way he was handling you few moments back in that intimate situation. With a final kiss on your cheek, he smiled at you and someone else took you from him and laid you down near the side of the bed. You tried your best to open your eyes to look at the person, the hold is as if he is handling a delicate thing which can break any moment.

“No need to open your eyes Y/N. Relax and let me take care of you.”

“Hongjoong I-“

“Shh…Sleep.” He is cleaning your body with some wet warm clothes and the cold air of the air conditioner is hitting your skin. One more person is there helping you to turn around and removing the bedsheet from beneath you. From the conversation between Hongjoong and him, you can guess him the youngest member, Jongho.

They put you into a loose trouser and an oversized t-shirt and someone took you in their arms to lift you up in the bridal style. The grip and the praises to lull you to sleep is totally referring to you being in the arms of the giant Yunho. Someone pats your head and you somehow open your eyes to realize your current situation. Seonghwa is patting you and smiling down at you and others are waiting near the door for three of you and Wooyoung who is putting on his t-shirt.

You all went towards the parking area and you are trying your best to stay awake in his arms.

“So, who is going to take which one?”

“Seonghwa, you can take Yeosang and San along with you and rest of them can take the other car. I will go with Yunho and Y/N.”

Everyone agreed and were going in their particular direction of their cars.

“Where are we going?”

They all stopped in their tracks to turn towards Yunho and you and he is already staring down at you.

“To home. To our home. The home is empty without you even if there are eight of us because the heart of our life is missing.”

“Thank you.”

“Why tiny?”

“Thanks for showing that you all are still the same and you all love me the most.”

San speaks, “We will never hurt you again Y/N. We are all sorry.”

You smiled towards them.

“I love you. I love each one of you. I missed you too.”

They all gave you the kindest smile and nodded.

“Thanks for making our party the best. My club has a sweet memory now.”

Everyone laughed on Mingi’s statement and with sweet smiles on everyone’s face, they all went to enter their designated cars.

Wooyoung shout out his thought, “lets have a party like this again but not for the same reason and also I will be the first one.”

They all laughed and entered the car. Before starting the engine, Hongoong looks at the rear-view mirror to see you snuggled up in yunho’s arms in the back seat and the latter cooing down at you like you are a baby in his hold. He looked up in the mirror to meet the eyes of the one in driver’s seat.

“Today was amazing, I want this party again. She is the best treasure of our life.”

“The Heart of Our Party.”

LET'S NOW PRETEND YOU DONT KNOW MY BLOG!

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ofjunemoment · 1 year

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let me teach you how to smash | park jisung

In the list of sports, ranked from most to least sexy, badminton would be found at the very bottom if not ranked last. But why is it that when Jisung plays the with a feathered shuttle your heart flutters?

OR: Jisung helps you improve your badminton skills.

pairing — badminton player!jisung x fem!reader

genre — sports!au, university!au, (one sided) enemies to friends to lovers, slight slow burn

wc — 22k (😀 huh)

content — university/sports class setting, humour, fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, idols mentioned, very heavy on the dialogue/backstory at one point sorry babies <3, smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

smut tags — making out, fingering, switch!jisung and reader (there's no strong dynamic tbh), protected sex, pet names (jisung gets called a good boy), lmk if I missed anything!

a/n — YAYYY i can finally share this with u guys!! i have been cooking this for some time and im actually so excited to release it!! I'm a badminton enthusiast so I went a bit ham on the descriptions and back story sorry (not rlly),, I hope this is a good readdd I read through it so much to fix it up and now Im a bit sick of it oops BUT its a story I've been wanting to write so here you go <3 enjoy!

sfw version here!

You enjoy sports.

You liked dancing sometimes — which is certainly a type of sport — and you dabbled with different sports at one point in school, but you don’t actively go out of your way to do any intense exercise. It can be sweaty and painful and maybe it’s a little like hitting the gym, but in most sports you need sportsmanship, and why would you be kind to the person who not only won but is rubbing it in your face?

You once yelled at Taeyong for kicking the ball in the wrong goal when your group of friends went out of their way to play makeshift soccer to bring back memories. You yelled, at precious Taeyong, who flinches at the sight of a fly

Okay, so you tolerate sports.

But in an effort to have your resume look pretty after finishing your degree, your friend Juda had shed light on this one program that has you do a bunch of extracurricular activities and in turn, you’ll gain extra credit. Seamless and effortless, you didn’t need to pay anything towards the program as most of the work was volunteering; like reading to kids or helping clean up lecture rooms now and then. What Juda failed to mention was the other extracurricular required of you, which was to go to a sporting class set up by the university.

Sporting classes; two hours a week minimum.

They were kind enough to provide you with options, but it still wasn't easy to choose whether you wanted two whole hours of HIIT fitness or football, which caused you to almost give up on the whole thing. Until you saw the word ‘badminton’ printed in the faintest ink, almost as if it was a mistake.

So here you are, in the campus’ sports equipment shop with Chenle, looking through what seems like badminton rackets.

“Do you think this is good?” You pick up a racket that has a mix of matte white and mint around the frame, with the string sporting the shade black, testing the weight in your hand.

“That’s a tennis racket stupid.” He goes to ruffle your hair but instead gets his hand slapped away and a frown etched on his face as you scoff at him. “I knew that,” You scowl.

“Well then don’t be an asshole about it, asshole.”

“I wasn’t being—” Both of you jump at a sudden sound that pitched in between your shoulders, as your hand flies to your chest in shock while Chenle’s eyebrow hitch up.

“Sorry?” It was Chenle who said that to the person who snuck up behind you two, his arms crossing defensively and landing on his left chest, as he positions himself subtly a little closer to you, almost as if he’s instinctively shielding him.

“Ah, sorry for surprising you; I just came to ask if you guys needed help with anything?” It was when the employee raised her ID card that was hanging on a white lanyard around her neck that Chenle’s defence began to soften as you brought your hand down, replacing the confused look on your faces with one of realisation.

“Ahh, uhm, I was wondering if you could recommend a badminton racket, nothing too fancy, maybe something to last a good two years.”

“Two years?” Chenle was the one that turned to you with a look of disbelief. The employee merely smiled and gestured her hands towards the very other side of the store and quickly turned to guide you.

“Hold on, you’re doing this stupid thing for two years? Half of your courses years? You’re just gonna voluntarily stress yourself with even more work?”

“ . . . Yes? I don’t know what to tell you, that’s my main intention. That’s why I joined this program. You’ve asked me multiple times like I’m going to miraculously change my mind and thank you for it like you’re a rich person, giving me, a homeless person, a piece of bread and then barely look at me as you record the whole thing for your livestream.” You huff while going to lie down on your back on the floor around your newly bought badminton equipment; a set of badminton rackets and some cylinder packets full of shuttlecocks, the feather ones because the plastic ones suck ass, the employee had smiled at you.

You sit up just as quickly as a dull pain shoots up your back. The motherfucking shuttlecocks.

“That’s one way to make up an analogy,” Chenle’s eyes land on the shuttlecock you had freshly crushed, now looking all squashed and disoriented. Poor thing didn’t even last a minute.

“What’s she moping about this time?” Juda’s voice echoed from the door as she places the tote bag she had brought down next to the shoe shelf.

“I’m not moping; I never mope. What do I even look like when I mope?”

“She’s just crying about the fact that she has to do this thing program for another two years.” His words elicit a shout and the gradual flinging of a nearby couch pillow from you. Chenle’s neck cracked as the pillow hit his head downwards.

“Did I kill him yet,” You voiced your disinterest, sitting up on your elbows briefly to analyse Chenle’s face before giving up and laying back down. Chenle stayed in that position for a while before getting up in a fury, ready to avenge you. Juda stopped him with a kick to his leg.

“Such disrespectful words, is it hard to show some courtesy around here?” You huff and go to lie down once more, not before feeling around the surface for any stray shuttlecock.

“When it comes to you, yes,” Juda throws Chenle a Yakult, and she flings you one straight at your stomach. You attempt not to flinch.

“Here’s to either two more years of moping about this stupid badminton class every week, or two months of hardcore whining from both of you until you break and drop out.” Juda raises her Yakult bottle and clinks it with yours — that’s still on your stomach — and against Chenle’s who was drinking out of it the moment she did so, spilling what little there was of it on his face. Chenle recovers and yells out offensively, causing Juda to squeal as she stands up and goes behind the couch, using it as her shield.

You inhale and try to tune them out.

Chenle smiles as you giggle at him, the loud music of EDM mixed with Kidz bop playing in the background as the sound of metal basketball hoop clanging echoes just enough for it to have a rhythm. He looks determined to beat the high score of this stupid basketball game, as Juda and you take turns watching him play the game and criticising his moves, even when none of you know much about basketball as he does. It’s been a few weeks since the start of the semester and hence, the beginning of your program. The kids you read to are either sleepy or disinterested as you start early in the morning, and the cleaning of lecture rooms is bearable at most times.

So things are going great at this point.

That was until Chenle called out to you: “How’s badminton going?” and, you’re not gonna lie, that did dampen your mood just by a bit, but you give your best attempt at masking it and smiling through; you didn’t want them to pick up on the fact that it’s been one lesson and you’re already sick and tired of it (or, at least sick and tired of one certain person). But Juda’s just too smart and catches on too easily with anything that you and Chenle try to brush under the rug. She raises one eyebrow at you before retorting: “What, are you whinging about it already?”

“Am not!”

“Then what is it?” Juda says at the same time that Chenle swears, a little too loud for a kids arcade, but it’s around 8 PM and the only kids that are here probably do some sort of drug or something if they have parents who allow them to be out this late.

“Nothing, okay? The coach is great and the other people who are there are fine too, and I actually learnt a lot —”

“But?” Juda’s lips are pink as she wraps them around a straw poking out from her slushie cup. You lean back in retaliation, back pressed against the basketball machine as you try to find a leeway.

“. . . But.”

You’re late. And you can’t even use the excuse that you woke up late because it’s seven p.m. and you’ve scoffed down your early dinner two hours ago. You simply decided to just procrastinate to the next level in an attempt to gauge if you truly want to continue with this program or not. But now here you are, on a bus that’s severely delayed due to the evening traffic and running frantically to make it to class on time.

Minkyung is a 50-year-old dad who coaches this class; he was also at the office where you had submitted your form for the program, and was over the moon that you had decided to try out his class, hence asking you questions about your knowledge of badminton, and went on this spiel when you had made the mistake of being truthful.

He now looks at you with a kind and wrinkly smile as your shoes squeak against the floor, one hand to your rib in an attempt to not show how much out of breath you were. “Don’t worry,” his voice was quiet enough for you to register only. “You arrived on time, I just finished the information briefing that you heard from me some time ago.” His smile was tight-lipped but genuine. Trying to even out your breathing, you set down your equipment and quickly join the rest in a circle. A clap echoes throughout the quiet hall as the coach drops his hands and clears his throat while letting out a puff of air, his eyes grazing by everyone’s heads in what you assume to be his way of counting the participants of the class.

“Glad to have everyone here today, I hope with this class you guys would not only learn about badminton but also be able to learn about its sportsmanship and benefits,” His eyes dart around the rather small circle. You expected the hall to be filled with as many students as that one Zumba class you were forced to attend in high school, but it was a rather tame class.

The coach hums, thinking about something deeply as the other students shuffle around, shifting their weight from side to side in the silence engulfing the court. He looked up and clapped again softer this time. “I’ve decided to treat you like my children’s class.” He concluded, “I want you guys to introduce yourself to each other. Now don’t be shy; everyone's new in this class. Maybe you can find a friend in this class to learn better and more quicker. Okay, let’s start with you.” He pointed towards a guy that was to his left, who looked back at him with wide eyes. He looked around and smiled sheepishly yet brightly. “My name’s Haechan, and uh, I’m 22?” He finished it off with bound lips as he refers to the person after him to begin.

And as you all finish introducing yourselves to each other, with a girl named Minji being last, the introductory circle ends, meaning the coach can now start the stretching and warm-up exercises. But he hasn’t.

“Uh, coach, are we gonna—?” Minji stopped halfway as the coach whips his head to look at the gigantic clock on the wall next to the hall’s equally huge entrance. You crane your head curiously towards the direction of his vision, straining both your ears and vision to see what he was looking for, as everyone around you catches on and seems to do the same. It isn’t long after till the squeaking of shoes against the rubber ground echoes throughout; soon enough, the coach screams ‘fourteen minutes!’ as another person steps into the hall, wide eyes darting around everyone as he swallows in an attempt to simmer down his erratic breathing. As the guy's breathing evens out enough for him to probably mutter an apology, your breathing picks up.

“First day and you’ve already fallen for someone? Very on brand for you,”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” You scramble to hit Chenle with his golden pokemon card folder he brought to the arcade. Juda calmly stops you using her right hand, as her left hand picks up her drink to take another sip from.

“She didn’t even finish her story, Chenle. Go on,” Juda set her slushy down as her grip loosens from around your wrist, signalling to continue the story.

“Thank you, Juda, for you’re my favourite of them all—”

“Are you gonna finish your story?” Her grip tightened.

“A-as I was saying,”

You like to analyse people to some extent, thinking about how body language is cool and how it can depict everyone's different life, contrasting drastically from one another yet sometimes being so similar even with all of our different circumstances. This is why you tried analysing everyone in your class of busy people attempting to hit the shuttlecock in a streak longer than ten, as your eye flitting around the court and landing on your next target, the new guy, simply because that’s in your nature.

(“In your nature? Or was it just the mysterious guy that came into the class so suddenly, panting and out of bre—“

“Shut up? Anyway,” )

“Ah Jisung, this is the latest you’ve been,” The coach nodded innocently towards the guy, as if he hadn’t scared the piss out of all of you when he shouted.

He’s a bit stiff with his walk, and his shoulders seem to harden like a board when his eyes scan around the class and its participants. With wide eyes, he looks like a lost puppy with the way he looks back at the coach in some sort of silent confirmation of something. It’s probably his first time having a general class with coach Minkyung, you realise as you see Jisung bow sheepishly to his teacher.

“Sorry,” his voice was hushed, rumbling as he talked. His eyes scanned briefly once again across the now sparked class doing forehand and backhand practices that the teacher has instructed them to do. You locked eye contact with him from afar and quickly looked away, ears feeling a little bit hotter than it was a second before.

Soojin leans in towards you and Ryujin a bit and whispers, “Do you think he’s new? Like . . . All of us?”

You and Ryujin glance at each other for a quick second, before you smile profusely as Ryujin places her hands on the pole that holds the badminton net, her racket clenched fist supporting her chin as she ponders. “Not at all.” She says rather flatly, a cheeky smile following up after. Solely looking at him doesn’t give you any insights on his level of badminton playing, which is weird, because till now he could pick up on some people's skills; you’ve so far guessed correctly with a few of the participants (including yourself, you think you’re an average player in this class) so you feel a bit stumped.

He stands stiff as he talks to the coach, keeping his gaze stern on his coach. He seems to be wearing normal trackies and only has a very slim back for his racket.

“He’s obviously a beginner, his bag is so thin compared to Coach and even Haechan, he also doesn’t look like a long-time player” Jaemin pipes in.

“Who are you to say? You said you’ve been playing for how long and you’re still this bad?” Soojin smiles as she dodges Jaemin’s hand by a fraction. But Ryujin isn’t having any of it as she breathes in with her teeth clenched, hissing out a sound of suspicion.

“Coach seems to know him, which makes me think he’s either been here before, or he’s just the coach's nepotism offspring.”

“Okay!” The coach claps his hand, forcing everyone to act like they were practising. “Gather around; we’re gonna do a basic skills test for this lesson, then I’m gonna split you up into groups and we’ll get to work with the people with the same skills. Cool?” He throws two thumbs up as everyone stays silent, with one of the two people nodding. You watch as he sees the coach's enthusiasm die down a little.

“Cool?” The coach had yelled now, startling everyone else in the second round of heart attacks; everyone else yell back this time, the word ‘cool’ echoing around the grand sports court. You notice that everyone’s responded to the coach's request except for Jisung.

“Oh girl . . .” Juda now has her manicured hand placed on your sulked shoulder of realisation.

“I know, I’m so sorry, Juda.” You look into the distance of the arcade, feigning sorrow; or maybe it’s not much of a feign.

“The fuck,” Chenle turns to see both of you huddled in what looks like a cry fest. “Did someone fucking die?”

“Watch your tongue,” An old woman wearing a neon orange vest belonging to the arcade staff points at Chenle, who bows down as he murmurs ‘sorry’, with you two trying your best not to laugh, following and bowing your heads down too when the seething woman’s eyes meet your figures.

“How dare you anger the poor lady, her blood pressure is probably already high enough,” Juda picks at Chenle, who is now quietly trying to slip in the token to play another round.

“I wouldn’t have if you guys didn’t just suddenly go emo for no reason. What the f—” Chenle’s eyes waver back and see the woman’s eyes (Are they naturally red? Or is it the arcade lighting?) glaring back at him once more. “Frick. What the frick happened.”

“Oh Chenle, we must mourn for her. She’s fallen for another mysterious guy who barely has any personality.”

“Oh my god,”

“Oh my fucking god, what—”

“Fuck,” Jisung sighed when he missed the shuttlecock by just a hair's width. Everyone was standing in a line-like formation, at the tip of their toes against the line that made the distinction between the playing court and outside. Jisung and the coach were having a match, the first test that the coach had implemented to determine who goes into what group according to their skills, and when no one volunteered, Jisung silently centred himself on the court as the coach's face broke out into a glow.

Although his face was adorned with wrinkles even when still, and his skin did seem to look just a smidge pruney all the time — the I’m growing old look he had on his face was impossible to miss — the coach’s never looked sharper and younger than he does now, zipping through his side of the court like a bees race. Jisung on the other hand, seems to have a calm demeanour, quietly and tranquilly stepping forward and back, delivering lobs and clears, limbs outstretched to effortlessly hit the shuttlecock back even if it seems that his position doesn’t allow such moves.

In the cold of Autumn, the stiffness of everyone's bodies was just the tiniest bit evident after a round of stretching, but two right in front of you look as if they’re playing in the heat of the summer, arms and legs effortlessly moving around the court. You try not to look too intently into the thin glisten of sweat forming on Jisung's neck.

Soojin raises her hand without taking her eyes off of the two people playing intensively in front of her, as Jaemin reaches in his pockets to place ten thousand won into her open palm, not letting his gaze wander away from the game either. “Thank you for your service.”

“I can’t believe he’s that good, I should’ve known from his cocky demeanour.” Haechan sighs, his fist resting against his cheek, hoisted up by his other hand. Everyone looks in his direction.

“You would think that it takes one to know one,” Minji almost barely whispers as she looks away from him by her side, looking back at the game with everyone else following.

“Ah, fine. You won.” Coach drops his racket down from its first stage position, going towards the net with an open palm. Jisung barely takes a step forward before he’s lifting his hand too, shaking hands over the net as everyone claps behind them.

“Okay then, who’s next?”

You spend half the lesson just like that, with everyone playing against the coach followed by him then instructing everyone to get into the key badminton positions. You suspect that this is the core of learning badminton as the coach guides you from the way you hold your racket to the way your feet are positioned, but all you’re really thinking about right now is how badly you just want to go home.

“Okay!” The coach claps, as people gather around him in a semi-breathless state, just from being told to carry out a few sets of actions that badminton has. You don’t know why badminton necessarily needs ladder crossovers, but you barely get to give out a sigh before your eyes catch on Jisung’s seemingly calm composure. He’s done so much and maybe even a round extra, but he’s barely breaking a sweat.

Why does he look so good? Show off.

“Believe it or not, we’re done already! I now have an understanding of what level each one of you is in and will put you into groups.” You keep trying to wipe at your face to keep the sweat away, but an even coat of sweat is now settled on your hand after wiping it many times, so it only feels like you’re spreading it evenly.

All while mysterious Jisung barely lifts his shoulder to have the cloth of his shirt wipe away the bead at his temple.

How utterly gross of him. You wonder if he’s single.

“So I will see you all next week and give your level, thanks for joining!” And everyone disperses, spreading around the hall to get to their bags and start packing. You are standing above your bag, packing it and taking your bottle out to take a sip when you see Minji and Soojin whisper shouting, which defeats the whole point of whispering in the first place.

“How much do you wanna guess that he eats and sleeps here?” Soojin is practically bouncing in her place, taking multiple obvious glances at Jisung’s figure, who’s seemingly roaming around in his bag instead of packing it like everyone else, his racket placed neatly on top of his bag instead of inside.

“Nothing, because at this point it almost seems like a fact.” And with that, you shoulder your bag and head for the door, too tired to function.

“And you have no muscle aches? Impressive.” Juda pipes, her eyes glued to the road as she drives them back home.

“Oh no, I do. I just plastered a few KT tapes.” You say from your position in the passenger seat, elbow resting against the rolled-down window with your hand against your forehead, getting a nice breather from the wind outside. Chenle who’s sitting in the middle reaches his hand forward and pulls your sleeve up from behind to reveal your arm and shoulder lined up with tapes of blue and green.

“A few huh,” Juda smiles and Chenle retorts, as you tch at them both.

“I didn’t want to risk it, okay?” You say, yanking the cloth back down and slapping at Chenle’s hand, facing forward once again with your hands crossed defensively and gaze set outside again. The car lights up in the yellow of the street lights, as Juda drives through the night.

“So when’s your next class?”

“And group A has . . . Jisung. Just Jisung”

“No, bad dog. Stop taking your anger out on Chenle’s biceps,” Juda attempted half-assedly to swat at your hands while her eyes were still glued to her phone, as you retell what happens with your next class.

“It hurts, Juda. Make her stop!”

You were furious. Group C? You knew you were better than that, having played almost every other sport growing up, even if occasionally, you’d gotta be good at badminton. Why is Jisung the only one in group A? Yes, fine, maybe he plays well, but it also means that you’ve been ranked down a group just because he was too perfect. Why does he attend the class if he’s already so good?

Subconsciously, you try to convince yourself to not take this whole grouping thing quite literally, as the coach had said that they’re not ranked or anything; but how can you not take it personally when the people you thought you were on par with were in group B. It takes all of your willpower for your scowl to not be displayed, but you soon find that you don’t have to try too hard as the coach assigns you all to your positions.

“Lighter on the feet,” Coach ordered, the squeak of shoe soles rubbing against the floor echoing throughout the sports hall. You, Soojin, Jaemin and Minji go through what the coach calls fundamental steps; right foot northeast with a forehand flick, right foot northwest with a backhand flick. It helps with the basics of the game, which everyone forgets, but you don’t think half an hour of the same steps helps with remembering either.

While group B, which consists of Haechan and Ryujin, go through the same phases with some extra steps added to strengthen their posture while playing. It’s not that you think your play better than the people in your group or group B, but mainly your irrational annoyance stems from the fact that you’re position in the class is gonna be recorded into your progress report, and you know for a fact that if Jisung wouldn’t be participating this dead class, you would be in group B. Yes, it’s still the last group out of two, but you can say that you’re merely ranked second. Instead, you’re last out of three.

As the steps turn repetitive, you let your eyes wander around mindlessly, your feet carrying you throughout as your hands attempt to do the actions in a somewhat muscle memory process. Your gaze eventually settles on Jisung, whose back is facing you as he smacks the shuttlecock against the wall, which bounces back only for him to smack at it again, repeating this one-man game he seems to have made up for himself. You glare lasers into his back, thinking about how maybe you’re not into this whole mysterious demeanour as you thought you were, seeing him just making up his own moves as the coach merely bounces back between the two of your groups, only checking in on Jisung after a few rounds of lecturing your moves and correcting your mistakes.

Three consecutive claps echo around the tall indoor court, as everyone drops their rackets at their bags and gather around the coach in a circle, somewhat holding some sort of formation with Ryujin to his right and Jisung to his left, and with you positioned almost opposite of him. “Good job everyone, now it’s time to cool down, exactly how we warmed up,” Clueless, most of you follow the coach’s steps while he urges each person to take turns counting, counting up to eight in a clockwise direction. Your eyes can’t stop fleeting to Jisung, the star of every badminton night, as your petty envy prevents you from minding your own business. Throughout the whole night, you’ve seen him take only warming up and cooling down somewhat seriously, as he crosses his arms and holds up a good posture, compared to the rest of the class who simply just slump over, wanting the session to end and finally catch a break.

One final clap and you’re all free to go. And you don’t waste a second, grabbing all your essentials and bag and quickly darting for the door, ready to go home and wash up and just not support your whole body weight on your feet. As you bid everyone goodbye and bow your head lightly to the coach, you watch as Jisung strides up to the coach in a meek manner, as his eyes fall on your retreating figure just slightly before softly calling out the coach's name.

It’s nine p.m. on the dot when you step out of the court and breathe in the cold air.

Juda’s on the couch when you step into the apartment, toeing off your sports shoes as you rest your badminton bag against the shoe shelf, at hand for your next trip to your class.

With a mouth full of chips, Juda barely takes her eyes off the screen before asking “How was class?”

“Same old,” You shrug.

“Same old? You’ve only been twice. How in tune are you with the coach for it to—” Your groan stops her teasing, as she smirks at your tired form squatting against the floor, hands clutching at the door and your hair in frustration.

“Could you have at least let me get home first before frying my brain?” Your hand falls to your face, and that’s when you feel the residue of your sweat from earlier, having turned into oil. The urge to shower now tenfold, you attempt to raise yourself and pass out in the shower.

“I’m gonna wash up now, and probably go to sleep,” You mutter just loud enough for Juda to hear, to which she hums while you retrieve a towel.

“Oh wait, before you go,” She calls just as you inch towards your room, “Do you know where my umbrella went? I’m going to campus tomorrow and I think it’s gonna rain again. I tried calling you but I don’t think it went through,”

“Oh yeah, It’s by the door.” You recall taking the umbrella to class today, as the forecast has been filled with rain symbols with the Autumn weather. Digging in your bag, you push past your essentials in order to find your phone which Juda’s called. “That’s weird, my phone is not here.”

“Did you take it with you today?” Juda mumbles as she munches on a few more chips, rubbing her fingers against her pants after every serving.

“I’m sure I did,” You ponder out loud, as you remove your hands from your bag in favour of patting at your pants and jacket resting on the clothing hanger, in case you somehow shoved it in your pockets without knowing.

“Did you forget it?” As soon as the words leave your roommate's mouth, you are met with a vivid picture of your phone, abandoned on the bench in the badminton court you left in a hurry. You sigh, placing your towel on the bathroom counter briefly before grabbing your house keys while putting your shoes on.

“I’ll be back Juda,”

“Good luck,” She waves.

You’re beyond tired, and a little frustrated at yourself for being impatient and forgetting your phone. You can’t risk losing such a thing, hence you’re glad that the lights were still on when you arrived at the building, giving a wave to the receptionist.

Stepping onto the court, you immediately zero in on your phone which is perched on the bench, the black shade of the screen a contrast against the silver metal bar. But a squeak of a sole against the floor earns a squeal out of your mid-march, as you clutch your shirt next to your heart and turn towards the perpetrator.

“Oh my god,” Jisung’s gaze is what you’re met with as you let out a sigh of relief, the man in question only turning around as you mutter under your breath.

“Sorry,” That’s the first time you’ve heard his voice all day, and there’s something about the tone of his voice that calms your heart down just a bit.

“What are you still doing here?” Your curiosity gets the best of you, your forgotten phone laying there, continuing to be overlooked as you question the presence of your classmate.

His eyes squint ever so slightly at your question, as his eyes ghost over you, as if he’s seeing you for the first time. “I’m practising,”

Practising? After two hours of badminton class, he didn’t seem like he did much then, but he’s still staying back to practice. You hum in slight adulation, rocking back and forth on your feet as he turns back around and runs through steps you’re unfamiliar with. As you inch towards your phone, you think more about his prominent presence in the court; is he too shy in class? Or maybe he gets private classes from the coach?

But as you scan your eyes around the court, you’re met with a near-empty court, as the only thing in sight is his bottle and slim bag. You’re not sure exactly what you’re waiting for as you hold onto your phone, fidgeting on your spot as your eyes follow Jisung’s swift movements. He seems more tired now than he ever was in the two classes you’ve shared with him, as his shoulders ride up more with an attempt of regaining stability with his breaths.

You’re not sure how long you’ve loitered around, but it must be a long amount of time for Jisung to look at you with disdain and shock.

“. . . Why are you still here?” He seems more reserved — something you didn’t know could happen — as he asks you this question, holding his racket subconsciously closer to his body. Your eyes widen at the prospect of being caught, as you shake your hands vehemently, stumbling back a bit.

“Sorry, I wasn’t—” You didn’t know how you were going to explain yourself, but one glance at the door of the court is all you need.

Bowing your head as quickly as you can in a lieu of a goodbye, Jisung could barely apprehend what you did before you’re bolting out of the badminton court.

A week later, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to face Jisung with your awkward encounter, and it is evident that the incident has been plaguing your mind as you stand at the door of the sports centre, both hands gripping the strap do your bag.

“What if he thinks I’m a weirdo for just standing there and stalking him?” Your wandering mind does nothing to help ease the situation, as more arbitrary scenarios flow after one another. Maybe he told the coach how much of a creep you are and now when you step in, you’ll be banned from class.

“Oh dear god,” You let your head fall forwards, trying to tip over the thought out of your head. Closing your eyes, you try to think of the things you can do once the class is over when a tap on your shoulder brings you out of your reverie. You turn to look behind your shoulder, fearing that it's someone robbing you or worse— Jisung; only to see coach Son, smiling at you with a hint of worry laced on his forehead.

Your shoulders sag with relief. “Hi coach,” you wince internally at your response, voice coming out high-pitched as you clench your grip on your bag.

“Let's go in and start some warm-ups, yeah?” And as you follow the coach to the class, you make sure to subtly hide behind him in case you catch s glimpse of Jisung anywhere, not wanting to run into him. As you quietly peek your head over his right shoulder once and his left shoulder next, you feel like a secret agent sneaking up on your target. A clearing of someone's throat snaps you out of your act, as your shoulders bunch up and in shock and you quickly turn, only to be met with the feared man of the night.

It seems like he’s been trying to go up to the coach and maybe say hi, but your lurking figure both stopped and perplexed him, not knowing why you were just peeking your head around like a mole rat.

“Sorry,” You mumble slightly, eyes wide as you back away towards the closest wall, wanting to blend into it and live with the bricks. Maybe you’ll face less embarrassment that way but knowing you, anything is possible.

“It’s okay,” His voice is as unassuming as always, eyes looking anywhere but you now that he’s caught your attention. You think his shyness is quite cute, but not for long as you think back to being scared of him from last week to being jealous of him, also from last week. That’s a lot of emotion for you to process.

He pulls up his hands, now shaped into a fist and looks past you, but you know he’s talking to you when he mutters, “Fighting,” before fully facing away and walking past you as if the mortification of his action has caught up to him. You barely contain your shocked expression behind your hand.

“Good job today guys, now we all have a basic grasp of the initial steps and our skills when it comes to badminton.” You brace your hands on your knees, just having done a set of wall squats as a way to build stamina, or so you’ve been told. You thought that maybe a month into these classes and you would’ve had some sort of energy stashed away in you when attending class, but it’s week five and you’re fighting for your life three seconds into a plank.

“Now I don’t wanna treat this class academically, but for those of you who truly care, there will be an assessment in the midst of this course to reevaluate your standing and see if you can advance from your group! But other than that, remember that this class can be solely for fun reasons too . . .” The rest of coach's words were white noise to your ears. Reevaluation? Does that mean that you can advance? That you’ll have a shot?

“Are you okay?” Soojin leans in toward you, whispering while pointing to what you assume would be the shock on your face. You turn to her, drawing a thumbs up to reassure her. And before you know it class is done and you’re pulled to do a series of cool-down moves. You eagerly follow through, now somehow charged with motivation to stay back and go over your moves a few times. You figure that the least you can do to move up a rank is to spend an extra hour going over your moves, even when you sometimes think about the significance of them.

You tread up to the coach and ask in your kindest voice if it was possible for you to stay back. “Of course, are you gonna go through the steps again?” He questions as he shifts his bag from one hand to another. You give a nod and wave goodbye, watching as everyone litters out of the court.

Well, almost everyone.

You can feel, more than anything, Jisung’s gaze piercing your figure through the hood of his jumper, while you give your best attempt at stretching. You’re not sure really what stretches best help with reducing the ache in your muscles the day after, but you figure the endeavour of reaching your toes should do.

Even after a few minutes of trying to appear mellow, Jisung’s presence alone makes you feel on edge as if you’ve stolen his territory. But you figure that nothing will change and that all you can really do right now is, well, practice.

The squeak of your shoes echoes every now and then, followed by a whip sound of the racket you’re flinging in the air. If you do this quickly enough, surely your skills will improve, right? From what your coach Son demonstrated earlier, you realised that as he would start off the steps slowly for your group to get a hang of, he was able to transition the speed to his liking, doing each step quickly and efficiently.

“Okay, should be easy,” You’re careful not to speak too loud in the almost quiet hall, giving yourself words of encouragement. Hand braced in the first position, then in the second, then a slight step back, and then your hand straight and quickly bend.

You finish the routine with its final step of hitting the imaginary shuttle as fast and as straight as your hand can go with such speed. With one round done, you brace yourself in the initial position to do it again. One, two, three and four.

You only get to pump out four, maybe five rounds of this pattern before a clearing of someone's throat scares the daylights out of you. With a barely contained shout, you’d forgotten — however briefly — that you weren’t alone. You’re looking at Jisung, who seems shocked at accidentally shaking you up so much, before he says something to you.

“What?” Even with the stillness of the court, the man’s words were barely comprehensible, as yours echoed slightly throughout the court.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Oh, so the first comment he ever mutters to you are words of criticism. You furrow your brows, head tilting slightly out of habit as you encourage him to go on.

“When you’re recoiling from hitting the shuttle, your racket still faces forward instead of down,” He explains, but none of it makes sense to you and it must be evident in your face, with Jisung looking slightly frustrated that the words did not register in your head.

“If you keep your racket facing forward, the ball isn’t going to go down but head straight, which allows your opponent to retaliate better.” He continues, and you somewhat understand where he’s getting at, but he’s not really helping you at all. All he did was point out your mistake, which makes you feel that he’s just trying to show off his knowledge.

“Well, what should I do then?” You can’t help but seem a bit agitated, as you slump your shoulders and let the racket settle by your ankles, your hold on the handle tightening ever so slightly.

“Hit it face down,” He raises his arm and demonstrated the step to you, causing the head of his hoodie to fall, shining the light of the court on his face. You’re briefly stuck looking at his face instead of his step, but were reeled back in when he makes eye contact. You clear your throat as he goes through the step again, which you think were exactly the steps you were doing a second ago.

“But, how was I any different?” You say as you mimic his steps, bracing yourself in the positions without much thinking, and hitting the imaginary shuttle right as when he does.

“No- see, you did it again,” He steps a bit closer as he gestures to the racket in your hand. “You’re hitting it straight on. You’re supposed to go down.” You sigh as he says this, feeling a bit irked that a mere student is trying to tell you what to do. He is in the top rank, so maybe he has a point.

Attempting to set your implicit annoyance aside, you intently look at his hand and the way he moves his wrist at the end of the step, trying your best to imprint this into your head. He looks a bit flustered with how much your gaze is focused on him, but still goes on two more times before nodding his head at you, encouraging you to try once more.

You look at the position of your hand this time instead of him, going through the initial steps and tweaking your wrist to face more downwards this time than your last few attempts, before your eyes quickly flit towards Jisung, looking for some sort of confirmation with your try. The subdued purse of his lips assures your suspicion, which is that you’re doing it right this time round.

“Good, did you kinda find out what you were doing wrong?” The words come out on reflex, and you don’t think twice this time about him being in the same class as you and yet trying to coach your steps, as you ponder on his question.

“I mean, I found out I was doing something wrong when you pointed it out, but I’m not quite sure what you meant when you said I was hitting it straight on.”

“Wow, you were really into him weren’t you?”

“Shut up Chenle, I was into the badminton technicality.”

Jisung steps forward a little bit and is about to say something before he hesitates. You look at him sceptically, waiting to see what he was gonna say before he shakes his head and seemingly snaps himself out of it. “Can you go back to the third position?” He asks of you, which you raise your hand and assume the position. Your racket and arm are raised pointed straight to the ceiling, while he positions his fisted hand in front of you. Your questioning look doesn’t go unnoticed, as a slight smile appears on Jisungs face before he nods at you, saying, “Okay, now gently go down like you would and stop at my hand.”

You do as you’re told, with Jisung’s eyes settled on your concentrated face following his orders, as the face of your racket meets his fist, the white of his knuckles colouring for a bit.

“See, you’re hitting the front of my knuckles, but that will send the shuttle forward.” He demonstrates by pulling his fist back, “That will give the other player a better opportunity of retaliating.” He then readjusts your racket by the throat, having the net hit the top of his fist. “This gives you a better chance.”

“But like, how am I giving them a better shot?”

You’re not sure what was funny or amusing about your question, but it seems that there must be something there for Jisung to sport a cute small smile, as he picks his racket back up and moves to one of the set-up nets, and funnily enough, you find yourself following him subconsciously. He picks up a shuttlecock on his way to the net and positions himself, as you stand at his side.

“See, let’s say the shuttle is coming at you this way,” He holds the shuttle with one hand as if the opposing player had shot it at him over the net. “If I hit it the way you had— actually, why don’t you try receiving the ball.” And so you shuffle over, standing opposite of his ready stance with your arms crossed, intrigued.

“I’ll throw the shuttle back to you and try seeing if you can hit it back.” You realise that this is the most you’ve heard him speak in the past five weeks that you’ve attended the class together. You bring your hand up and stand in the ready position you remember coach telling you about when initiating a game, and Jisung takes that as a sign that you’re ready and hits the shuttle at a moderate speed. You hit the ball back with ease, as it goes over back to Jisung’s side, who catches it with his other hand. You let out a long ‘ahh’ sound of understanding, hand clutched at your side.

“You’re right, that was hell easy,” You brood aloud, but not before asking one of your other endless questions. “But then, how would the other way be any different?”

From the looks of it, Jisung seems over the moon that you asked such a question, holding back a smile by biting on his lips lightly and quipping his head to the side. He holds up the shuttle and looks at you, gauging to see if you’re ready to receive the ball once again. As you regain your ready position, you see the ball suspended in the air briefly before Jisung hits it at the ‘better’ angle, which is seemingly from the head of it, but before you can process anything else a zip sounds past you and the ball has landed behind you.

Your gasp resonates through the hall as you look behind you to where the shuttle has landed, with a hand coming to your mouth as you look at Jisung. The latter contains his smug smile behind his own hand, as you point at the ball and look back and forth. “What did you just do?”

“Ah, that’s a technique that's called smash.” You falter slightly.

“That’s a weird fucking name I’m not gonna lie,” You glance at the ball once more with a look of disgust, before shaking yourself out of it. “Oh my god, that was so cool.”

You didn’t think that you would be getting a one-on-one lesson when you decided to stay behind today, but you’re quite surprised with how he was able to spot such a little detail so quickly. And that gives you an idea.

“Jisung,” You call his name for the first time since you met him five weeks ago, which surprises the said man, as you see his eyes startle and a few strands of his hair jerk. “Do you stay after class every week?”

He’s a bit quiet for some time, processing your question thoroughly. He nods his head briefly, but not before a bit of hesitation.

“Is it . . . Can you help me improve?” You’re a bit shy now that you voice your question out loud, but you’re determined to move up at least one rank and land second place; or even just have a good academic score, even in badminton.

Seeing the blank face that Jisung is now sporting, you think about the unfair offer you’ve just made to him. Why would he spend his extra time after class to teach you, his potential competitor, without getting anything out of it? You’re not sure what you can offer him, maybe some sort of payment? But before you can ponder even more, you catch a slight nod of his head from the corner of your eye.

“Is that . . . a yes?” You lock eye contact, as he nods his head once more but with more vigour and confirmation.

“Why?” It’s your turn to look at him with confusion.

“Are you asking me?” He points to himself, as he slightly tilts his head as if he was going to look as if you were talking to someone else. You shake your head quickly once he asks the question, raising even more questions.

“Actually, no. I take back what I said. You said yes, right? You can’t change your mind. Or, I mean you can but like I would be pretty bummed about it because you already said yes but I’d respect your choice.” You take a deep breath in once you finish, looking at him and clasping your hands together a bit too harshly.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll help you with what you need.” Relief washes over you and you can’t help but smile in thanks.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing too.” Jisung hums for you to continue, as he goes towards his bag and retrieves his bottle to take a sip.

“Can you teach me how to smash?” And maybe you should’ve waited for him to be done with that bottle first.

You think you’re quite good at being subtle and on the low, no matter how much Juda and Chenle counter that argument. You can be sneaky if you put your mind to it, and it's been proven many times in high school when you would sneak your favourite snack during the middle of the class without your strict teacher finding out.

So you’re not sure where you went wrong when you held out a snack bar in Jisungs direction, only for the whole court to look at you weirdly. You merely strutted up to him with maximum placidity and poked out the bar from your hand into his torso, looking away and hoping he would get the memo and take from you as with a mutter of something that sounds really close to the word ‘thanks’.

But it’s been a solid fifteen seconds and not only is the bar still in your hand, but everyone in the class has slowed down their activities in favour of looking at you two. Even coach’s staring as if he’s trying to solve a very complex puzzle.

“Is this . . . for me?” Jisung’s voice comes out as a rumble, not knowing if he should whisper or talk normally, sounding out something in between instead.

Of course this is for you, idiot. Why am I holding it in your direction??

You ignore his question and shake the bar in your hand with a bit more intensity, hoping that he would finally get the memo. It isn’t until ten more seconds pass that you lose all hope and turn to him, grabbing his hand and placing your gratitude in his open palm, closing his fist around the energy snack.

You stomp your way to start your warm-ups before Jisung could say anything.

“When you aim your hand, you’re not really looking at the shuttle,” Jisung starts after a few rounds of one-on-one games you’ve started after class. “Your eyes are just hovering around it for a few seconds before you look around and put yourself in position. You’re supposed to go in position without looking, it should be intuitive.” You huff at his explanation, dropping your hands by your sides.

“How do I ‘look’ at it more, then?” You’re grateful that Jisung is helping you, but it’s just the tiniest bit unnerving for him to recognise your every move and be able to point out your mishaps. He moves back from the net, creating a decent amount of space in his playing circle. He starts throwing the shuttle up with his badminton racket, the distance from the shuttle and its net growing with each hit.

“Practising this move helps,” He says as he works through what you remember the coach demonstrating the first few classes. As the shuttlecock goes higher and higher with each impact, your eyes catch on the silver of skin poking out as Jisung lifts his hand to meet the shuttle, his shirt rising for a few seconds every time.

“I think it would be better if you looked at the shuttle?” His words catch you off guard, as you look up and meet his gaze already settled on your, eyes gleaming as he pokes at his cheek with his tongue.

“Shut up,” You look away, flustered that you got caught, before attempting the moves, refusing to look back at him.

The condensation of the electrolyte drink is addled with the dampness of your hand, as you make your way to class the week after. You see Ryujin talking to the coach as you enter, and Jisung at his bag, seeming to ruffle through it in order to retrieve something. You strut your way up quietly, not wanting to attract any awkward attention by giving gratitude in the form of a drink to your unofficial instructor. As you open your mouth to call Jisungs name, the tall man turns around and gives you the faintest hint of a smile, before his eyes land on your hand.

“Hi, here.” You spout, as you extend your hand straight towards him, some of the condensation dropping on the floor and finding solace in the gaps of your fingers. His hands feel dry and warm as it brushes against yours, retrieving the drink from your grasp.

“You didn’t have to. Thank you; for last time too,” Your cheeks heat up at his words as you avert your gaze away, opting to look at the playing net instead. “Don’t mention it,” Your damp hand wrings against the dry one behind your back, as you slowly let your gaze wander back to Jisung, who’s now looking at the blue bottle in his hand.

“Did you know,” He twists the drink in his hand and looks at what you think is the nutrition information. “Electrolyte doesn’t actually help when you exercise.” Your expression sullens as he continues to look at the drink you gave him. “Your body loses more water than electrolytes when you exercise, and so there is no use consuming more electrolytes. Water helps way more in comparison,” The scowl on your face makes Jisung stop in his tracks as he looks up after finishing his bite-sized lecture.

“Well, if you’re so ungrateful—” You reach your hand out to snatch the bottle from him but are stopped short as his hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you. “No!” He exclaims and a chuckle slips past as your struggle to get the drink, reaching out your other hand before he captures that too, now both of your wrists trapped in his hand. Your eyes widen, with your wrist bound and fighting up a struggle, all impaired with Jisung’s hand wrapped. Before your mind can wander to what other scenarios can result in him bounding up your hands, he continues; “I’m very grateful. You don’t have to give me these things just because I give you a few tips after class.”

You pause your struggle, letting your hands be weighed down. “Well, I don’t think I’ve been helping you at all. Sometimes I even set you back, so it’s the least I can do.” You say truthfully. You do sometimes feel like a burden when Jisung gives you a tip and you don’t adapt immediately, sometimes it takes you maybe two after-class lessons until you can successfully cast back the shuttle over the net with a short distance. The only way you could think about paying him back was through these pick-me-up snacks.

“Okay, how about this,” You miss the warmth and pressure of his hand against your wrist as soon as he lets go to put the drink down behind him and straightens back up, looking away as he slowly grows flustered with what he’s about to say next. “Treat me to ice cream maybe?”

You smile at his antics, happy to have been told how you could repay him. “Deal,” He visibly deflates with relief as you zealously agree, putting your bag down next to his as you both start to unpack.

You shuffle to the bathroom as soon as practice is over, giving Jisung a quick point towards the direction you’re going to ease his worries about you running away. Once inside, you’re met with the cool breeze and a mirror that reflects your spent figure. Oh god, how were you gonna go out like this? Is this what you looked like this entire time? Shuffling to the sink, you shoulder your bag back as you lean over the sink and lightly dab at your face with some water, before cleaning yourself up and dabbing the paper towel against your face.

You don’t know why you were so nervous to do this; it’s truly just some ice cream with your temporary and unofficial coach. But you truly wanted him to see your gratitude, and soon enough you’re thinking if ice cream isn’t enough, and budgeting how you can come up with enough money for an all-you-can-eat buffet at this time of the night. But before you could even add up the numbers on your fingers - it was a two in one hand and three in another, not quite sure what they meant - the sound of the door opening echoes in the bathroom, jumping you out of your reverie.

Turning around, you just catch Minji stepping in, looking taken aback at your shocked expression, as if you weren’t expecting anyone to enter this public bathroom. “You okay?” She calls after you, and you can only hope that the smile on your face is convincing enough.

“Yup! Just . . . tired,” You cringe a bit at the overused excuse, but your shoulders slump when she just smiles back at you.

“It’s okay, maybe your date with Jisung would cheer you up?” You feel something lodge in your throat, coughing out in surprise.

“No!” You retort, hands coming out from behind you as if to stop all ideas from forming. “We’re- It’s not like that. He’s just-” Minji looks at you with amusement, as she shifts her weight and crosses her arms, urging you to continue. The mind blank you’re sporting is not at all helping with a way to express what you truly are doing with Jisung, and so you try: “I just owe him something for smashing his racket.” And that was the best you could do.

Minji’s smile falls, as her arms drop at her sides. “You . . . smashed his racket?”

You don’t know why her voice was laced with such concern, but you figure that you have to finish what you started. “Yeah, to pieces actually. Sometimes the adrenaline truly gets to you, right?” You chuckle a bit, trying to find a gap in the conversation where you can squeeze back out of the bathroom.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” You clench the strap of your bag and exit the bathroom, ready to dart out of the place. As you turn a sharp right, you are immediately met with a sheet of white, which suspiciously looks like the colour of the shirt Jisung was wearing today. Hands are placed at your shoulder and you’re quickly set back half a step from the wall, or at least enough to recognise that it wasn’t a wall, but rather Jisung’s tall figure.

“Sorry,” you mutter, eyes flicking from his own to the arms stretching to your shoulders, catching a few veins adorning his forearm. A clear of his throat has you looking entirely away, as you grab at his wrist and start tugging towards the exit.

The white lights of the LED sign of the ice cream place illuminate most of the dark street, with most businesses having closed earlier in the day save for a few convenience stores littered with tired college students like yourselves. You eye the shop and its extravagant decor, sceptical about being brought to such a high-end ice cream shop.

“You know, when you said ice cream, I thought you had wanted me to buy you some popsicles from some convenience store. Not someplace about exorbitant ice cream with fifty years of craft in making,” You nudge your elbow a bit to Jisung’s side, to which he responds by twisting his head in your direction.

He splutters, “Oh, I’m so sorry I forgot that, you know you were gonna pay,” You notice his hands move as he speaks, something you’ve picked up from when you would talk to him or notice him talking to coach; it’s as if his words are spelt with his hands first and then brought out through his lips, now adorning a pout as he tries explaining himself.

“. . . I thought we were just, going out.” Your eyebrows raise a bit in surprise at his words. Going out? As in, going out on a date?

You wonder if your thought bubble is something he can see, as he quickly puts out his hands again, shaking them vehemently. “Not on a date! It’s just, I didn’t know what-”

“Jisung, it’s okay. I was just messing with you,” You decide to put him out of his misery, reassuring him before continuing, “I’ve never been here but I’ve been meaning to try it out, so I’m glad you suggested this place. Let me treat you to something good,” And without thinking, you link your arm through his and push through the door, the cool of the interior washing over both of you. The shop was mostly white, with white tiles placed as half-walls as well as the flooring, the only hint of colour being the green of a few plants and of course the various ice creams. The employee, who seems to be the only person in the shop, straightens up ever so slightly at the sight of the two of you entering, before slumping back down when you head towards the self-serve ice cream booths. Picking up two cups, you hand one to Jisung who’s at your right, before you pick up the scooper from a mini bucket of water, waving it around your choices.

“Tell me which flavour you want me to pick out for you,” You eye the various flavours of ice creams, seeing if you can find your favourite. You look at Jisung to see if he’s doing the same, only to see his eye zeroed in on one bucket which is contrastingly fuller than the different flavours around it.

“Mint chocolate ice cream?” Your question has JIsung nodding his head as he looks at you sheepishly. “I can’t believe you would choose the most controversial ice cream. You’re so original.” You tease, to which Jisung nudges you in retaliation.

“It’s a good flavour, if people stop comparing the mint and the chocolate and instead choose to see how much they complement each other, we would be one step closer to world peace.”

“That’s a bold claim, what’s your source?” Jisung grabs the scoop out of your hands with mock aggressiveness, opting to scoop his serving of the mint chocolate ice cream. “Your references? Where is your citation—” He cuts you off by placing his hand on your mouth after taking a scoop of his ice cream, as his chest meets your arm.

He shushes you, “Just get your ice cream, yeah? I’ll go get my toppings,” He nods and lets go of your mouth, missing the way your cheeks heat up from his proximity and touch on your face. You bring the back of your hand to your face, prying the heat to go away as you shake your head and pick the scooper back up, reaching for your favourite flavour of ice cream.

Meeting Jisung at the counter, you place your cup of ice cream next to his on the weigh and fish through your bag as you wait for the person behind the counter to calculate your total. However, as soon as you probed your wallet out of your bag, the sound of a completed transaction peals out, making you turn your head up just to see Jisung putting his wallet back into his sweatpants.

“It was supposed to be my treat,” You insist, looking towards Jisung’s direction to generate some sort of guilt for his action. Instead, the man avoids your gaze, picks up two spoons, and places them in your cups, grabbing yours when he spots you not budging from the corner of his eye and turning to head for the door. You grab at his sleeve to force out his reasoning but are slowly pulled with him as he heads out, quickly turning around and bidding goodbye to the staff before he opens the door.

“Well, maybe you can pay next time,” At the mention of another time of you and Jisung hanging out, your initial sorrow washes over by a wave of giddiness.

“Then give me your number,” You propose, fishing your phone out. “So I can see when you’re next free and make it up to you,” With wide eyes, Jisung’s hands hesitate as they reach out for your phone; before either of you can second-guess yourselves, he takes the phone and smiles shyly, typing in his details. Handing the phone back to you, you take a look at his contact before pocketing your phone as Jisung starts to speak.

You scoop a spoon of your ice cream into your mouth to hide your smile, but from a light chuckle that emits from your left side, you don’t think your efforts amounted to much.

You stretch your arm to reach the end of your leg, warming up your body before the mass class warmup, more so to have something to do instead of staring at Jisung who’s also here early and is also doing his own unique sets of warm-ups.

Nothing about badminton is sexy; there’s nothing sexy about moving your wrist just in time to deliver some sort of groundbreaking delivery with the shuttlecock. Even the word shuttlecock grosses you out, as you suppress the urge to shiver at this very moment.

So you’re not sure why the act of playing badminton with the wall is such an attractive sight to you; as Jisung grunts every now and then, seemingly surprised and unprepared by his own backhand delivery against the wall, which makes him take quick steps back and forth and side to side to meet each hit. His quick movements allow for his loose clothing today to move around freely, exposing toned skin every now and then. It takes a lot of your willpower to have you not to drool right then and there, as if you were back in high school once more.

One hit, in particular, bounced off high and far from the wall, the sound of the shuttlecock smacking against the wall echoing louder as it heads for Jisung’s left side, a direction that you’re situated in although with a safe amount of distance. The tall player retaliates by turning his body a whole hundred-and-eighty degree, facing away from the wall and essentially towards you as he tries to continue his streak of hits. Briefly, you see his eyes look at you and back at the shuttles descend, but his focus on the said thing falters when he looks at you again, realising that you’ve been watching him play.

The shame of being caught should’ve arrived by now, as your shoulders stiffen with being onslaught by Jisung’s intense gaze. But before the chagrin could fully settle in, Jisung has completely passed the point of positioning his racket, causing the shuttle to fall and bounce off of his head and onto his feet. Gently clasping your hand at your mouth, you stop your giggles at the warning glare that Jisung sends to you; although his flushed cheeks aren’t making it any better.

“Say something and see what happens,” He points at you with the tip of his racket. You remove your hand and open your mouth, curious to see where this goes.

“Are you really gonna say something?” He steps closer to your figure, which is now sitting cross-legged on the ground with both hands placed on top of one another in front of you. He drops his racket on the ground, as if it doesn’t cost a limb, and instead places his hands right above his knees, looming over your figure. You can’t help it this time when your gaze follows towards the gap in the collar of his shirt, showing the sharp cut of his collarbone peeking through. It’s when your gaze is caught on his chain necklace dangling from his neck that the sound of a basketball bouncing echoes closer, as both of you look towards the direction it’s coming from. Not long after, a boy no older than ten shuffles in with his shoes squeaking against the floor, looking shocked at the fact that the two of you are here.

The ball lightly hits Jisung’s calf, who simply picks it up and passes it back to the boy who’s seemingly frozen in place. As soon as the ball arrives at his own feet, he quickly picks it up and dashes out of the place.

“Do you wanna bet to see who can reach past their toes?” Your question snaps Jisung out of his thought. The boy chuckles and sits down to your right, stretching out his legs and shaking them out as a form of warm-up.

“You’re so on,”

Your hands are clasped behind your back as you strut up to Jisung, who’s at his bag, taking out his needed items. With a tap on his shoulder, he turns to face you, giving you a smile as a greeting before scanning you.

“What are you doing this time?” You gasp in mock offence.

“This time? I haven’t even done anything yet?”

“But you’re going to,” He points his fingers at your hidden hands. “You’re either gonna scare me or pull the lamest prank ever known to date.” Your smile drops and a scowl replaces it instead.

When Jisung fully turns to face you, you smile once more and lean your shoulders in. “I actually brought you something to thank you. Again.” You shift the item from your left to your right hand, feeling nervous and embarrassed for saying it all out loud. “Because of you, I can hit a backhand serve and not smack myself.” The boy stands taller with your gratitude, a blush sporting on his face as his eyes look anywhere but at you. You must look like high schoolers confessing to one another with the way you’re both flustered and shy, which isn’t a thought you’re fully opposed to.

He nods his head, still avoiding looking directly at you, as he reaches his hands out, ready to receive what you’ve brought for him. You giggle slightly as he shuts his eyes and shakes his hands in anticipation, “Since you said electrolyte drinks don’t really help, and you like your proteins after class, I thought of a better third option and brought you,” You reach your hands out and place the gift on his palms, urging him to open his eyes.

Cold and dripping with condensation, the plastic water bottle perched on his hands seem small as his hands close around them to keep from falling. His eyes fall as he looks dimly at the bottle in his hands, and you look away briefly to keep from laughing straight in his face.

“Now I know what that kid felt like when he got gifted an avocado for Christmas.”

“Wait,” Chenle plops down next to Juda as he says this, but is quickly shoved to the other end of the couch with a complaint ‘It’s too hot for you to stick your gross body next to me’.

“What’s his deal then?”

“What?” You turn to look at Juda first as if to check that you’re the only one confused. The furrow of the girls’ eyebrows proves the fact that you aren’t alone, as you both look at Chenle with visible empty thought bubbles surrounding you.

“Well, he’s a badminton prodigy according to you. Seems to have surprased all the basics and is just a step away from being a professional.” The initial shove and retort from Juda barely set him off, as he goes back to his original position and maybe squeezes himself even more to her side and pulls a spoon out, digging into her tub of ice cream.

“Why is he still coming to class if he’s qualified enough to teach you?” Unfortunately, for once Chenle does have a point. You’ve thought about this a few times at the beginning of the semester when you were a little more than irritated by the fact that he joined the class and made you rank down a notch; ever since he agreed to lend you a hand, you’re sometimes even happy when you see him come in.

“He has a point sadly,” Juda waves her spoon towards Chenle’s direction. “If he’s as good as you say he is, why bother coming to class?”

“Maybe you should ask him that on your next date,” The boy wiggles his eyebrows at you, squealing out a laugh when you pull your fist back in a threatening manner.

“Maybe I will,” you blurt out, attempting an aggressive tone. Before you could let anyone, even yourself, comprehend what you said, you pressed play on the tv and snuggled up to Juda’s arm on her right, with Chenle leaching off of her to her left.

“The things I put up with,” She huffs as she stabs her spoon into her ice cream tub, feeding you diligently.

[WEDNESDAY; 10:37 PM]

you: you

jwisung: ?

jwisung: what happened to hello

jwisung: ‘how was your day’

jwisung: wheres ur decorum

you: shut up you dont even know what that means

jwisung: :(

you: >.<

you: are you free this saturday at 9

jwisung: you mean

jwisung: the saturday 9pm where we just finish our badminton class?

jwisung: idk i gotta check my schedule to see if i have a badminton class around that time

jwisung: omg wait are you gonna spoil me

you: 😐

you: yes but not anymore

you: bye

jwisung: WAIR

jwisung: pleahse im soreu

you: not forgiven <3

you: i know this place that actually has good mint choc ice cream

you: not too minty not too chocolatey

jwisung: you rmbrd that i like mintchoc?

you: dont do this to me

jwisung: okay i wont 😁

you: good boy

jwisung: …

you: ?

you: oh!

jwisung: no

you: ill remember this too 😋

Your bag is bigger this time when you go to class, having packed an extra set of clothes and a towel to have a quick rinse after class before your not-date with Jisung. Arriving just in time for the warm-up session, you’re met with gloomy faces left and right. Plopping your bag down next to Soojin’s, you whisper when you ask, “Why does everyone look like they’ve been kicked?”

She looks up to you with a pout adorning her features. “Coach declared today a ‘cardio’ day. Something about wanting to boost our stamina or whatever the fuck.” She sighs as she shoves her stuff back into her bag, sadly shuffling across the court to do her designated warmups. You grimace as you follow, hoping your travel-size soap is enough.

Turns out Coach’s definition of cardio was way more intense than what you remember your gym friends raving about, as you put your hands on your knees to keep yourself from collapsing. A whistle from the coach signals a shift in your rep, making you change stations and do the next cycle of workout.

“Coach, how much longer are we gonna do this—”

“Until I start sweating, Jaemin. Now keep up!” Coach demands, which is absurd, because he isn’t doing anything but watching you do push-up planks and try not to collapse.

“Okay, stop,” He blows the whistle once more and you fall to your hands and knees, with everyone else modelling a variation of your position. Haechan’s high-pitched groan startles you, but not as much as the coach’s yelling that follows after.

“Don’t sit down guys! Sitting down after exercise is terrible for your stamina,”

“This sounds like some facebook myth my mom would tell me,” Ryujin pants as she shoves her fringe out of her face.

Coach smiles as he claps this time around. “You guys were great today, well done! As a gift, you can only do the stretching cool-down activities and I’ll finish class earlier today,” At that, the class erupts in out-of-breath cheers and barely lasting claps.

You look to find Jisung, just to see how he’s holding up after this exercise round from hell, and you find yourself more than relieved to see him affected for once. Halfway through class, he’s opted to take off his hoodie, which left him in a white shirt and navy sweatpants, with sleeves bunched up to show his biceps and their carvings. The sight of him adorned with sweat and panting sends a twist to your stomach, and you’re quickly reminded that you’re supposed to go out with him after this.

Shuffling to your bag as quickly as you can with the ache pulsing through your legs, you’re about to head for the courts' public showers when you’re met with Jisung’s figure.

“You can’t leave that easily, I have to try that ice cream,” He murmurs with a crooked smile. You smack at his shoulder.

“I wasn’t gonna leave, I wanted to take a quick rinse before we go out. That cardio really did a number on me,” Jisung falls a bit quiet at your words, as you visibly see him suddenly deep in thought. Before you get to question it, he beats you to it by straightening up and looking directly at you with an idea in mind.

“Why don’t you come to mine?” You blanch at his words but aren’t allowed to react more than that as he continues. “I live really close, and you can just use the shower before heading out. You have your stuff with you and I need a rinse too.” He points at your bag behind you, making you flush and subconsciously move to cover up your efforts. His idea doesn’t seem too bad, and you think this could be another excuse for you to make up to him. Let’s go out one more time because I used up all your hot water. Couldn’t think of a better idea.

With a nod and a smile, you’re quickly guided out of the building shoulder to shoulder.

Jisung’s apartment really wasn’t far at all, as you arrive at the complex within a five-minute walk from the sports grounds. Living in a two-bedroom apartment with his roommate, who Jisungs said to have gone home this winter season, the place looks relatively clean with the effort of one person living in the area. He directs you to his room, where you place your bags and pick up your clothes before he points towards the bathroom.

“You can use my shampoo and soap, they’re both in some type of white bottle. Don’t use the blue ones because they’re my roommates’ and he has a sixth sense when it comes to these things,” You salute him and shuffle to the bathroom, trying your best to be as quick as possible to not leave him waiting and to not actually use up all his hot water. The bathroom was just slightly messy, with towels stacked on one another in a haphazard manner and shaving bottle caps abandoned and soap remnants staining the sink, you feel warm with the idea of getting to see this side of Jisung. A university student trying his best, not some badminton prodigy.

Rinsing your body one last time, you close the water tap and open the glass door of the shower, reaching out your hand blindly to retrieve your towel. After a few seconds of mindlessly flinging your arm and only coming back with a bang of your knuckle against the metal towel holder, you don’t really recall pulling out the towel from your bag, much less hanging it anywhere near the bathroom.

“Oh my god, why today?” The cold of the world outside the shower cubicle washes shivers over you as you open the door wide enough to fit your head around, scanning to see if there’s any alternative you can use instead. All you’re met with is bundles of toilet paper rolls stacked on top of one another and used toilet paper rolls dumped into a basket haphazardly. Your panic settles a bit quicker as your mind blanks from solutions, but not before a knock is heard through the door with your name being called.

“Yes?” You hide the waver in your voice as best as you can, closing the glass door just a bit more.

“Is everything okay?” Jisung’s voice rumbles through the door. Your hand flies to your body, suddenly feeling exposed with the reminder of Jisung’s presence. Slipping back into the shower, you raise your voice as much as you can to be heard through the door; “Yup! Everything’s fine. Just . . .” It’s just I’m dripping and naked in your house and the only remedy is a towel, which I don’t have.

“I noticed you forgot your towel,” The muffle of his voice cuts you out of your trance, “I can give it to you— I mean of course I won’t look! I can just— maybe I’ll stick my hand in?” You laugh slightly at the fact that he’s just as flustered as you, before replying with an agreement.

As he opens the door with the smallest gap to fit the towel and then his wrist, the cold air of the outside reminds you again of your stark nakedness, one hand going across your chest as you reach your other to grab at the towel. With a skim of your wet fingers against his warm and dry ones, you retrieve your towel with a shy thanks, as Jisung quickly goes to close the door.

While getting ready as quickly as you could in the bathroom, your mind was filled with thoughts of how you were supposed to face Jisung after that whole incident. You couldn’t think if it was better to joke about it and get it over with or forget about it and have to come back one day for some form of closure. You hoped there was no need for closure.

But before your overthinking could get to you, Jisung regarded you like he would any other day when you stepped out of his bathroom — with a shy look and awkward hands — and you immediately relax, shoulders slumping as you go up to him, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Jisung’s eyes flit towards it, but not for long before he opens the door and lets you lead the way.

The trip to the ice cream store was a short one, requiring only a train ride to the han rivers’ skirts where the shop is situated. The store itself was busy with people sitting all around snacking on its offerings, but once you get your respective ice creams and head out back towards the river, it’s a bit quieter; a breeze slips past you as you wrap an arm around yourself. With spring in the air, the trees’ full bloom flowers scatter around the pavement and are imprinted by the soles of your hoses as you walk by.

Finding a bench by the tree, the two of settle down on it, as you turn and face Jisung in anticipation of his first try.

“It’s really good, trust me. And it’s like a bit thicker with its mint rather than the chocolate bits which is a bit hard to do when you eat mint chocolate ice cream because it’s always the chocolate that's richer and you get si—” a spoonful of your ice cream is stuffed into your mouth, spluttering you to a stop as you glare at Jisung whos laughing at your expression.

“I had to shut you up one way,” You fist your hand at him in faux aggression, pulling out your spoon and placing it back into your cup.

“Just eat it quickly before it melts,” You exclaim with a hurried expression, feet bouncing up at down in anticipation. Jisung glances at you while he picks up his spoon, prodding at his ice cream before he picks up a spoonful of his ice cream, slowly bringing it to his mouth as he looks at your expression. He only laughs and detours his spoon once, bringing the spoon back up to his lips when the expression on your face shifts to a deadpan.

The pink of his lip contrasts with the mint colour of the ice cream dripping slightly from the spoon, as he finally fits the ice cream in and gives it a taste. Looking at his eyes with suspense, Jisung’s default expression of scepticism is what you see first, before it shifts into surprise, into confusion, and finally into the same expression as a kid getting candy. The glint in his eyes shines bright in the dim lighting that you’re in, as Jisung points to the ice cream while he continues consuming the ice cream.

“It’s good,”

“Of course it’s good. I wouldn’t bring you to try good mint chocolate if it wasn’t actually good mint chocolate,” You stifle a giggle when Jisung throws you a glower.

“You know what I mean,” At his positive reaction, you comfortably dug into your own ice cream, a comfortable silence blanketing you two with background noises of cyclers whizzing by and people talking in the distance.

“You’re doing really well,” Jisung starts with his eyes darted away, suddenly shy to look at you as he says, “In badminton, I mean. Your overhead shots are cleaner than mine.” Eyes still averted, he elbows you lightly with his compliment. You preen at his praise, leaning forward subconsciously to him with a thank you.

“It’s all thanks to you. If you weren’t as good as you are I wouldn’t even know that there are two methods of serving the shuttle.”

Jisung’s laugh sounds less humorous, “Yeah, it must’ve been weird seeing me play alone during class,” There's a heavy pause as you visibly detect the boy sort through his next words. “I didn’t think you guys were . . . fond of me. When we first started,” You feel your stomach go white, colours flush from your face from his words. Did he know? Were you that blatant? You feel bad, remembering how isolated the boy was at that time as everyone distanced themselves since learning his level of expertise. You weren’t any better, the bitter feeling you harboured when you got ranked into the third group now coming back to you after three months of attending practice.

At the glum expression on your face, Jisung quickly goes to wave his hand. “Ah, it was— it wasn’t your fault or anything. I secluded myself too, so of course it would’ve been hard to talk as comfortably.” He rests his hand on yours that’s pressed against the bench, comforting you as if you’re the one whos been wronged, and not the other way around. Frowning at his consolation, you don’t know what comes over you as you flip your hand around, making your palm face his as you clasp his hands in yours.

You avoid looking at his expression as you make your bold move, looking at the river as you start. “If it makes you feel better, Jaemin always talks about how jealous he is of you whenever you do a smash,” Gathering the courage, you squeeze his fingers as you look at him, another question popping up in your head.

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, of course, but—” You cut yourself short when Jisung nods his head at you, looking at you with a calm demeanour.

“Why do you still come to class if you’re already so good? I mean, I swear you’re at national levels at least,” Jisung snorts at your words, growing shy from your praise.

“I’m being serious, don’t laugh!” Even as you say your words with furrowed eyebrows, your efforts barely last as you smile at his bashful posture. Puffing his cheeks, he ponders a bit on how to answer your question; you’re about to tell him to just forget it, not wanting him to answer something so personal, when he straightens his posture and stares ahead with a determined expression.

“The first time I played badminton was at a family gathering for new years, and I might’ve been four or maybe five when my dad put a racket in my hand and swung my arm around to hit at the throws my cousins would send my way. Then when I got older and was forced to play actual sports in school, the only thing that I was willing to play was badminton. I didn’t try hard in the beginning and was there because I heard that the teacher conducting it didn’t really care,” You snort at the picture of young Jisung barely lifting his hand to play, or letting the shuttle zoom right past him while flinching away entirely.

“But when the interschool competitions came around and I was ranked in the last group to play, I had won by pure luck,” He rubs his hands up and down his pants as he reminisces, shoulder rubbing against your subconsciously. “And then everyone started cheering me on because apparently, my accidental win had helped us accelerate to the next round. It made me feel good that I was the cause of such a thing, so I tried a bit harder the next time. Then I asked the higher ranking kids to help me with my serving, and then my mom to admit me to a badminton class, and I ranked up from F to D, and then to B and then A. My class started to admit me to local competitions outside of school hours, and then it had become such a big part of my life that I was determined to get to a national scale.”

“Did you?” Your voice was quiet when you spoke, ending with a bit of a rasp from its lack of use. You were on the edge of your seat if your position meant anything, arms wrapped around your knees, thighs pressed to your chest, making the waistband of your shorts dig a bit higher. Jisung’s smile is a sentimental one, reminiscent of a win resulting from years of effort.

“I was fifteen when I was cast by a racket sports centre, which focused on training people ranging from kids to young adults to get to national competitions and even more. I was over the moon and became one of those kids you barely see in class and when you do, they’re just sleeping through the subject. My first competition was scheduled three months after my admission, which was unheard of; even kids who have been learning at the place for two years would struggle to pass the first rounds for the entry.” Your eyes move along Jisung’s hand, as he comically explains his words through the movement of his fingers, expanding and collapsing joints onto one another.

“I didn’t win the first one, but I won the second, and the third, and built a streak - although short, just four months into training. In the beginning, it was all so exhilarating, the thrill of winning the title of first place with all these people who were just as gifted, if not even more. And so I would win because I was capable, I didn’t win because I was it was expected of me.”

“But,” You murmur as Jisung halts, bringing his hand down as his fingers fiddle with the texture of the bench.

“But,” His excitement has burnt down to a sort of nostalgia, and you reach your hand down and clasp your hand over his again, before he looks down and turns his hand, palm facing yours as he links your fingers together. “But then, when I was seventeen, I had passed the initial rounds for the national Olympic competition. It was big news; our centre hadn’t had someone do that in decades, and that was when the pressure was tangible.

“My parents would schedule my day down to the minutes, and my coach made my diet strict, telling me what exactly I should eat each day until the competition. I loved the order and agenda that was set for me; I didn’t have to think what’s next? I just had to keep doing what I was good at. But then came the first round of the match, and the people were ruthless. No one was there to watch two teenagers play badminton, but instead fight for their lives. I didn’t think much about it until my third round that day when the kid I was playing against deliberately tried to hit the ball to my face.”

You couldn’t help it, your laugh had spilt out before you could even think of stopping it, but Jisung’s squeeze against your hand assured you that it was fine, as he chuckled with you.

“Who the fuck practices hitting the ball at someone's face?” Your voice was pitched higher with exasperation. “Do you reckon he had a cardboard cutout of you to practice on? I doubt someone can do the calculations of face-hitting range that quickly under pressure.” Jisung contemplates your idea teasingly, tilting his head and measuring random angels with his free hand. Seeing that, the weight of your hand held against his now weighs tenfold, as the butterfly in your stomach flutters with the subconscious squeeze of his fingers. You bump at his shoulder as you squeeze yourself closer, bringing your linked hands to rest against your stomach, wanting to hold him closer.

“It was definitely weird, but it didn’t set me off my rhythm, I just thought that it was a way to rile people up. But my coach was the one irritated, and when the boy had almost hit my eye, that was when my coach started to interfere,” You can only imagine the noise surrounding seventeen-year-old Jisung, his coach stepping forward to halt the game and talking to the referee to take some sort of action, pointing accusing fingers at the opponent and their mentors.

“The place that we were competing at was big, bigger than what I was used to back then, and there were a lot of people and so it was noisy; but the noise that my coach and the kid were making was something else. When my coach came back to me, all riled up, I couldn’t do much but take in his energy. I remember being very tense, thinking that I should just step my ground a bit more next time ‘round so they wouldn’t think of doing something like aiming the shuttle at my face.

“I think it was either the fifth? Or the sixth round, when I was in the zone of playing ‘professionally’ rather than doing what I was already good at. I would do overhead deliveries and front-hand serves even though I’d rather do a simple back-hand. Then there was an opening for a smash, it was a weak point for the guy— and I was over the moon with the opportunity. I’d only done the smash successfully maybe enough to count off of my fingers, but I knew that if I timed it right I would get it,” Dread fills your stomach at the direction that Jisung is going, You’re sure if you clench your fingers any harder there would be an imprint left of the poor boy's hand, but Jisung either doesn’t notice or simply doesn’t care.

Jisung’s chuckle drifts lightly in the air, “I was too enthusiastic, and I bunched up all my energy into hitting the ball that I’d missed the perfect time and instead had delivered a simple overhead. It would’ve been okay otherwise, I mean, I was able to deliver something instead of losing a measly point, but before I could recover, the shuttle had travelled to the back end of the court, and in my attempt of getting it, I’d tripped and landed pretty badly,” While telling the story, Jisung’s free hand had been wandering over his clothed knee, fingers fiddling with the fabric and one another. Bunching up the fabric at the end of his pant, he pushes up the lax fabric up and over his knee, where a pink and slightly faded surgical scar paints the inner side of his knee. Your hand clasps over your mouth once met with the scar, and your heart fills with admiration as you see him trace his healed gash with sentimentality. Bringing your linked hands to rest on your knee, you prop your cheek against it while looking at him, sparkling eyes encouraging him to continue.

“I couldn’t play anymore after that, not with the same vigour I had before. Suddenly I had to go back to class regularly and didn’t have to do any sort of reps just so I don’t fall behind on my weekly plan. My schedule had more free time than anything, and so I had enough time to get to thinking; what if I hadn’t misstepped? Would I have won? But I knew that all of that thinking wouldn’t do me any good. So when I was watching the Olympics months later, I remember seeing the camera pan onto the coaches, and how happy they were to see their student playing. I missed the joy of playing for the thrill and adrenaline of moving around, and so I thought, why not become a coach?” Understanding fills you as you realise why Jisung is going through all this effort of attending a class that he’s exponentially overqualified for. His cheeks go red as he realises your gaze settling over his figure, now looking away from you and onto the still water.

You can’t help it, you find it simply so endearing that he’s set his time into achieving something to allow people to have fun with badminton. Feeling overwhelmed with affection from his story and words and actions, you lean over and place a peck on to his cheek.

The contact was brief, as your lips barely took in the smoothness of his skin before you’re coming back with a start. “Oh my god, Jisung. That’s so cute, you’re generous and you’re going out of your way to do such good things, and you didn't deserve to go through that at such a young age—” Your words were smushed together as you barely reach the end of your sentence, the cause being Jisung’s big hands gently attacking your cheeks at once. His wide eyes stare straight at yours as his colder hands warm against the puff of your cheeks; and you are seconds away from voicing your confusion before you see his gaze settling on your pouted lips, glistening and redder from the ice cream.

You couldn’t even smile teasingly at him, as his hands refrain you from doing so. The nervous adrenaline running in your vein might be another reason too, but you don’t get to ponder on that for long before you see Jisung’s tilted head leaning closer, hooded eyes glancing at your eyes before focusing back on your lips, wanting to imprint it’s cute pouted shape.

The warmth of his lips lands on your cold ones, sending a wave of warmth to wash over you. You can feel his desire through the pressure of his lips against you, his soft lips fitting over yours lovingly. You mourn the loss as soon as Jisung pulls back, but not for long before he presses another close-mouthed kiss, this time with his hand tilting your head the other way, fingers slipping and cupping your jaw gently. Your stomach warms as you feel the fervour within Jisung, from the tip of his cold fingers on your heated cheeks to the push of his body towards you, wanting to get closer with each passing second.

When he pulls back, his eyes are clouded with the haze of your kiss and a bit of timidity. Your giggle bubbles between you, causing him to smile along with you, his shyness catching up. Not wanting his hand to stray far as they fall from your face, you clasp at his palm and lace your fingers, pulling down to get his face closer to yours, placing a peck at his nose first, scrunched from being bashful, and then one on his lips. And another, and another, then it’s him who’s leaning in and slotting his lips against yours, and you’re pulling your linked hands behind your back and let go, opting to slot your hand behind his neck.

After two, three, and four more kisses to the cheek, forehead and lips, you tuck your head into the junction of his shoulder and neck, feeling shy from doing all of this in public. Jisung’s laugh is sweet to your ears, hands rubbing up and down your back before brushing at the ends of your hair.

“Give a warning next time round, will you?” You tease as you pull back, hand falling on his forearms, eyes looking everywhere but at his.

“Sorry, you just looked too cute. I felt this sudden urge to either bite you or kiss you,”

You pull back even more, hands coming up to shield yourself in mock reservation. “I don’t know if I should be thankful you chose the second option or fear for when the first option will happen,”

Jisung hums, “Maybe both?”

Your pinkies are linked as you walk along the river, basking in each other's presence as you talk, shoulders brushing every now and then. It’s when you’re both childishly debating about who had fallen first when Jisung suddenly points his finger at you accusingly.

“Is that why you forgot your towel?” His question comes out more genuine than anything, as he tilts his head quickly in thought. With a light gasp, you smack at his shoulder before your arm falls back and crosses on your shoulders, scandalised. “I didn’t!”

“Was that how you were gonna seduce me? By forgetting your towel and having me bring it to you? What was next, you wanted me to lotion your legs for you too?” You can tell he’s teasing this time around, as his tongue pokes at his cheek ever so slightly to withhold the grin that was blooming across his features.

You point your finger at him, catching on. “You probably distracted me with your whole ‘which bottle of shampoo’ debacle just to make me forget it.” Poking at his chest with eyes squinted in suspicion, “You wanted to see me naked on the first date? That’s not very decorum of you.”

Jisung scoffs and rolls his eyes at your accusation, shoulders squaring to better defend himself. “I don’t need to go through all of that just to get to you,” He throws you a quick glance from the corner of his eye, a rush of giddiness washing over him with the look of your flustered expression.

“You’re right,” This time, you’re looking at his lips as you say this, catching Jisung off-guard with your compliance. Moving closer, you rest your hands on his arms, pushing yourself up and closer to his body, chests brushing. Your voice, barely above a whisper, brushes against his ear, “It’s gonna take a lot more than that to get to me, baby.”

You know the smile on your face is menacing if Jisung’s gaze on you is anything to go by, partly annoyed and part timid. Ghosting one of your hands down his arm, you slip your fingers in between his and give them a squeeze, giggling as you swing your arm back a forth a bit like a school couple.

Jisung’s next sentence takes a bit of effort to say if his demeanour is anything to go by. With his gaze settled on your intertwined hands and a slightly open mouth— as if to say something, you give his hand another gentle squeeze to encourage him.

The gleam in his eyes looks more assured as he straightens his posture and looks directly into your eyes, giving your hand a squeeze back. “Do you wanna go back to mine?”

Leaning in, you give another peck on his cheek, his scent pleasantly wafting through your nose. “I’d love to,”

You can feel the tension grow with the sound of the door closing and sounding its locking chime, toeing off your shoes as you look up at Jisung. He reaches out a hand towards you once you straighten up, pulling you close and guiding you towards the door of his bedroom.

Like the rest of the house, Jisung’s room is clean but still spotted with signs of use, with his desk having papers and laptop wires strewn around while a plethora of empty hangers are placed at the foot of his closet. As he sits on the bed, with his hand still holding yours, he tugs you forward, his free hand going to your thigh, clasping above your knee.

His eyes glisten as he looks up at you, “This okay?” his touch ghosts on you as he asks this. You nod your head, wanting him to touch you, needing him to touch you more. His fingers grow bolder and heavier in weight, as his hand clasps at the back of your thigh, bending your leg and resting it next to his thigh. Understanding his movements, you follow suit, settling yourself on his thighs with your linked hands resting on his stomach. He leans in and presses a soft kiss against you, easing in with feathery light touches. The slot of your mouths against each other starts a small fire in your stomach, as you push yourself onto him more, needing him to know that you crave more.

He sighs against your lips as you settle down more, the pressure not far from where he wants it the most. He kisses you feverishly, the smack of your lips growing louder with each plant of his lips. His touches grow heavier as his fingers go from grazing against your knees to tracing lines up your thighs, barely a touch away from settling under the seem of your skirt. Knitting your fingers in his hair, his hand flies to your love handles, squeezing them in an attempt to ground himself. A sigh leaves his lips when you separate just the slightest bit, taking a breather as you kiss the corner of his lips, hands falling from the ends of his hair down to his collarbones and at the bottom of his shirt. Your spread your fingers on the skin of his stomach, nails skimming ever so slightly making Jisung’s breath hitch, his stomach tensing under your touch, eyes still closed as he takes in your touch, his stomach knotting from finally being able to do this with you.

With his grip already tight on your waist, he maneuvers you off his lap and sits you on his bed, crawling between your legs, making you open them and welcome him in as you lie down on his bed. He kisses you again, his hands now staking claim everywhere he can, pushing your shirt up to your ribs, fingers grazing against your bud form under your bra before he brings his hands down and kneads at your thighs.

“Jisung,” You sigh when he swipes his tongue against your lips. He takes your tongue in his mouth, humming against it at your call, its vibration sending hot waves down your body. His touches on your body take you higher, but you need more.

And so you say just as much, “More, give me more.”

“Fuck,” He sighs against your lip, “Yeah? Okay, I’ll give you more, anything for you,” Pressing one last peck against your lip, you see his body slide down your figure, his fingers going to unhook your bra as you arch your back. He groans at the sight of your breasts free from your bra. “I love your tits, so much,” His hands are big against you, but they fit perfectly against the cup of your breasts, squeezing them together as he smothers himself against your cleavage. He licks a stripe of each bud, before focusing on your left one with his mouth, tongue lapping around the swell as he sucks, opting to circle his fingers on your other tit before pinching it harshly, making you keen against him.

You rake your fingers in his hair, petting him. “Such a good boy, you make me feel so good,” Your words make him whine against your breast, making his hip stutter against the mattress, for some sort of friction. He releases one hand from cupping your breasts, opting to use one hand while his now free hand dances its way down your torso, unzipping your skirt and taking it off, before meeting the seam of your panties. With his pointer finger, he hovers a line ever so slightly on your slit, eyes wide as he glances at the pleasure breaking out on your face and the wetness of your underwear spreading.

He keeps his touch light, drawing circles on your clit through the fabric of your underwear, frustrating you. You huff when he uses the point of his fingers and presses the slightest amount into your hole, the fabric refraining you from feeling his direct touch. You pull at his hair that’s winded through your fingers, urging him on; he moans at the pull, getting the memo once he looks up at your face with an eye squeezed closed from pain or pleasure. Or both.

He licks at your entrance briefly through your panties, the heat and wetness making you moan, before his fingers finally fit themselves into the seam, sliding them down your legs. You feel more than see his gaze on your core, hooded eyes watching it squeeze around nothing as his fingers tease around it. He comes back up to you and presses his lips against yours, lips slotting together briefly before you feel his thumb rub against your sensitive nub, his middle finger prodding at your hole, eyes watching your face as he pushes the pad of his finger against you. You keen when his finger fills you, as he pushes his finger back and forth, his thumb following by pressing into your clit and pulling away rhythmically. He brings his head against your neck, licking a stripe against you before his teeth catch on your skin, lips wrapping themselves around you straight after, sucking into you before parting and finding another part of your skin to taint. He quickens his pace with his one finger, but it’s not enough, you can barely get enough of him.

Hugging his head that’s still tucked at your neck, you scratch at his scalp soothingly before pulling at strands of his hair. “Jisung,” You pant, “Another one, fill me up, please,”

“You want more?” He bites at your jaw lightly, before he pecks your lips lovingly, as if he isn’t trying to have you come undone with his fingers alone. You nod your head, “Please, I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You beg as your cup the side of his face, your eyes looking at his blown-out pupils, probably no different than yours.

Jisung gronas at your words. “You’ve been so good, such a good girl.” He pulls his finger out so just the tip of it hangs onto your gaping hole, before he joins in another finger, two fingers now filling you. You whimper out a thank you, hands clutching at his shoulders as he picks up the pace, hand now slapping against your cunt, fingers curling inside your sopping pussy. Your body feels like it’s floating and coiling into itself all at once, with Jisung’s unrelenting fingers contrasting his gentle pecks and scrape of teeth against your skin. Every few thrusts and squeeze against his fingers have his hips grind down, sometimes grazing against your leg, making you feel his hard-on.

You bring your hand down from his shoulder, curling it at the bottom of his shirt before tugging at it, mumbling the word off. He pulls back slightly and pulls his shirt off with his free hand while you help with getting it over his head. You scratch your nails against the lines of his stomach, eliciting a hiss out of his before you palm at the outline of his cock through his sweatpants. “You listen so well, don't you? Always doing your best,” You pant out, testing the waters as you tuck the tips of your finger under his waistband. His moan comes out higher in pitch with your words, hips jutting forward and into your touch.

“Good for you,” he breathes against your cheek, eyes squeezed shut at the brush of your fingers against his clothed cock, muttering another fuck under his breath, rutting into your palm for more.

You’re losing your patience, as Jisung speeds up his hand even more, the pleasure bordering with pain from his pace and harsher bites Jisung plants on you, too far gone with pleasuring you to be mindful of his strength.

You can feel your orgasm reaching, breath hitching and your stomachs coil tightening further and further. You wrap your hand around Jisung’s wrist, slowing him down slowly before prodding them out of you. You whine at the emptiness briefly but are soothed when Jisung plants wet kisses against your collarbone. You push yourself up onto your shoulders, making Jisung shuffle back slightly in order to not lose touch with you, Reaching over, you dig through your bag and pull out a condom, shaking it between your bodies to bring Jisung’s attention to it.

The sound of the plastic wrapper catches his gaze, “You’re gonna let me put it in?” He grabs the packet from your hand before gently pushing you back down. He kisses you again, seeming to not get enough, as he pushes his pants and boxers down in one go, his tip smacking against the soft lines of his stomach and leaving a glisten. The rip of the packet sounds before he rolls it on, and you shift closer when you feel the tip of his cock lined up with your pussy.

The sheets ruffle around you as Jisung comes down and places a kiss on your cheek before looking into your eyes. “Ready?” He asks, and with a nod of your head, you feel him slowly ease himself into you. The stretch feels amazing, as you both moan into each other mouths, your hands squeezing and wandering everywhere around Jisung’s shoulders, back, torso.

Jisung sighs, “Fuck,” His grip on your waist tightens, the pressure turning you on even more, squeezing around his cock. “You feel so good, so tight,”

“Fuck, Jisung,” You groan out as he quickens his pace, the sound of his hips slapping against your skin picking up. “Fuck, you’re doing so well. Stretching me out so good,” Jisung throws his head back, eyes squeezing shut at the pulse of your pussy around his member. He looks back down, wanting to see the join of your bodies, pulling out till his tip, before ramming himself back in, losing himself to the blissful feeling.

The knot in your stomach tightens. “Jisung, I’m close—” You’re cut off by your own moan as Jisung starts rubbing at your clit again, building a rhythm to his thrusts into you.

“Yeah? Fuck, let go baby,” He grunts as he bends down, his cock twitching inside of you as he kisses your lips before tucking his head back into your neck, lapping at your skin as he keeps up his speed with his fingers on your clit and his thrusts inside you. Your body curls up as your orgasm crashes into you, hands hugging at Jisung’s shoulders tighter as your thighs squeeze around his hips, keeping him in your pulsing core. Panting, you release your grip from his hip, bringing your leg down and patting Jisung’s head, wanting to kiss him again.

As he pulls away from you, you lean up and plant a kiss on his lips, chest bursting with the affection you feel while coming down. Jisung pulls his cock out from you, going slow as to not overwhelm you. He pulls off his condom, not having cum yet as his cock smacks against his stomach, the precum from the tip joining the light sheen of sweat covering his body. He fists his hand around his cock, tugging and pumping himself to a finish. You’re too spent to give him a helping hand, but you decide you haven’t spent your mouth enough.

“Pretty boy, you’re doing so well,” He hunches over your body at your words. “Looks so good fisting your own cock like that,”

“Fuck,” He groans, “If you keep going I’m gonna—”

“Cum baby, make a mess on me,” You run your hand up his thigh, before pulling up and grabbing at his hair and combing through the strands. His moan comes out high pitched as his hips stutter into his fist, before a spurt of come shoots out and lands on your stomach. He twists his fist around the head of his cock as he milks it out, before heaving a sigh and slumping down, placing a kiss on your shoulder before he lies by your side, cupping his body into yours. You continue running your hand in his hair as he settles on your shoulder, his cheek poking out which makes you poke at it. A giggle is shared as the giddiness of you two being together in the moment settles in, and when you go to place a kiss at his forehead, you’re reminded of the wetness of sweat all over your body and the slowly drying cum on your stomach.

“Oh, let me go get something,” He gets up and goes to his bathroom, coming back with a few paper towels and a wet cloth. Rubbing down your spent body, he pats you dry with the paper towel before putting them away and plopping down next to you, wrapping his arm around you and tucking himself close.

“I didn’t know you were the cuddly type,” You say as you hug at his shoulders, hands rubbing up and down as a faux massage.

“Well, I mean, I can let go?” Jisung’s nervous front grows again, as he goes to put some distance between the two of you. But before he could get far, you wrap your arms tighter around his shoulder as you hook your leg around his, stopping him from pulling away.

“I never said it was bad; I like this girlfriend bonus.” Jisung’s hair bounces as he pops his head up to look at you.

“Girlfriend bonus? Does that mean you’re my girlfriend now?”

“Only if you agree to my boyfriend bonuses,” You shrug. He laughs as he places his head back on your shoulder. “What are these so-called ‘boyfriend bonuses’ of yours?” You tap at your chin mockingly as you think.

“You can fuck my boobs next time?” You shrug again. His head whips up faster this time ‘round.

“Are you serious? Don’t joke about it, because if you are I won’t be—” You smack your hands on his cheeks, squeezing his lips into a pout. His shoulders slump at your attempt of shutting him up, eyebrows drooping as he gazes at you, making you laugh at his expression as you squish his cheeks repeatedly.

“Okay, good job guys, take a water break.” Coach Son claps, as everyone shuffles to their bags and grab at their bottles. Jisung’s elbow brushes against yours as he grabs his bottle from his bag next to yours, taking a few light sips before he places it down, looking at you with his cheeks full of water. It takes all his might to not spit the water out as you elbow him back and raise your fingers tauntingly, moving closer as if you’re about to tickle him.

Before you can successfully begin your quest, Coach lets out a sound as to gather you guys back ‘round, clapping his hands twice before waving you guys in.

“Since we’re coming to the end of the semester and you guys have proved to work really hard, I’m gonna conduct one last test to see how much your levels have changed since the beginning of the semester!”

“Oh my god,” You whisper out to Jisung as your hand cups your mouth, wide eyes looking at his as his eyebrows raise in surprise. This could finally be the moment that you can prove yourself, advancing onto a higher level to have an overall better ranking.

“Who wants to go first?” Jaemin steps up and raises his hand, confidently wanting to prove his skills.

He plays a round with the coach, showing signs of trying his best and knowing how to play, but his reaction speed comes a bit too late as he misses the shuttles by a step. Sometimes two. Sometimes he mixes up his left from his right, but that’s just occasionally. Minji and Ryujin play a round each, and show good improvement throughout the semester.

“You should go next,” Jisung leans into as he whispers, both of your gazes settled on the coach and Ryujin going back and forth with clears being delivered. Your blood rushes quicker at the thought of playing an official round, thinking of all the mistakes you can make that would cost you.

Sensing your nerves, Jisung places his hand on yours, grabbing it before giving the palm of your hand soothing rubs. “To help with the nerves,” He says when you look at your joint hands questioningly.

“Alright, next player?” Giving your hand a light squeeze, Jisung lets go and ushers you forward onto the court, as you raise your hand slightly, grabbing at your racket once Coach nods you in.

Arranging yourself, you pick up the shuttle left at your side and get into your serve position. You hit the shuttle and serve, commencing the game. You are able to reciprocate most of coach’s deliveries, stepping left and right when needed and angling your racket to optimise your own delivery, but it’s when you’re halfway through the game with Coach Son’s and your score being eleven and ten respectively, coach starts playing with a more advanced method. The drops become more frequent, catching you off guard as you have to run from the back to the front of the court in order to make it to the shuttle, as well as the clears going in different angles making you almost trip a few times as you attempt to make it to them.

Jisung has his fist at his mouth as he watches you from the side, with everyone else in awe at how quickly you’re moving compared to the last time they played officially.

“How did she get so good?” Haechan questions with his hand pressed on his racket. The whole class shifts their head from left to right at the sidelines as they watch you battling it out with their coach, the shuttle relentlessly being delivered with neither of you wanting to lose touch of it.

“It’s the perks she gets for having an almost professional-level badminton player of a boyfriend.” Ryujin’s smile is devoid of any callousness, patting at Jisung’s shoulder as she says this. Jisung can feel his cheeks grow red as he splutters into his sleeve, hiding his flustered expression as the rest of them shout out their reactions.

“All credit goes to her, she’s just a diligent student.”

“I can be diligent too,” Jaemin bats his lashes as he leans in from Jisung’s other side, but flinches and clutches at his shoulder when Soojin smacks him.

Back on the court, you’re starting to lose your breath when Coach delivers another serve to the back of the court, shuttle going straight as you attempt to create enough distance to successfully hit back. As he does a clear delivery, you position yourself at the back fo the court in order to meet his hit, before quickly centring yourself, preparing for his next move. From a steady pattern of his serves growing in your head, you were more than ready to reciprocate his short hit of the shuttle near the net, as you step forward and hit back.

Usually, you would’ve stumbled to hit the shuttle back at maximum velocity, sending it flying up and giving Coach more than enough time to think of his next move. But from your extra hours of playing with Jisung, you’re picked up the knack of delivering a short end with another short end, making the shuttle travel only the slightest bit over the net and plummeting down into the court. Coach Son is caught off guard when you do this, but his reflexes from years of practise kicks in, and before he could process his actions, he delivers a lob, sending the shuttle high in the air. Jisung gasps from the sidelines, making everyone alert.

He calls out your name, “Smash! Do a smash!”

With your eye settled on the descending shuttle, you think back to the one class you had with Jisung.

“You hit a clear when the shuttle can meet your hand at twelve o’clock. You have to wait for it to drop to the same level that you’re hand would be at a ten o’clock position to be able to deliver a smash; but remember that you have to keep going with your delivery until your hand reaches six o’clock.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

You’re still not sure what he meant, but with the fall of the shuttle, you’re not really at the privilege of recalling things for a long amount of time.

Positioning your hand at the first base, you wait for the shuttle to be at least a few inches from your head before you reach out, smacking at the shuttle and aiming at the bottom of the court. Coach, who was ready for you to hit the shuttle to the back of the court like you usually do, was not ready for the shuttle which was arriving at a quick pace. In a blink, the shuttle lands just past his ankles, and you’ve officially scored a point.

“Jisung!” You scream once the shuttle lands, looking at your boyfriend who was staring intently at your match. A look of victory glows across his face as his mouth drops in disbelief, eyebrows raised and fists clenched, over the moon at what you had just accomplished.

“I smashed! I did it! I smashed so hard oh my god, I think my arms gonna fall off,” The game is far from done for you to be celebrating like this, but you’re without care when the rest of the class cheers for you, Minji running up to you to give you a hug. You both start jumping with giddy while the rest join in, all while the coach looks at your huddled bunch with a smile on his face.

“This is Juda and this one is Chenle.”

“Why’d you talk about me as if I was a dog?”

“Because you are,” Juda shrugs before she plucks out a Yakult bottle from the packet in her hand, swingin it above Chenle’s face. “Who wants a treat? You do! Who’s a good boy?”

“Nice to . . . meet you guys too?” Jisung’s wave hangs mid air as he looks at Chenle slowly shift from a expressionless face to enthusiastically nodding his head up and down, wanting the drink.

“What did I tell you? You’ll fit just right in with us,” You link your arm through Jisung’s elbow, pulling him into your shared house with Juda before sitting him down on the couch. Juda and Chenle follow after, with the latter having his own bottle open and already emptied halfway. Juda offers Jisung yakult bottle, and goes to pick up the remote, going through the movies to put something on. You quickly grab a few snacks from the kitchen and come back, settling yourself right next to Jisung, leaving no space between the both of you.

“Wait,” Chenle turns to look at you from his positon on the ground, grimacing a bit at the sight of you two cuddled up, before continuing. “What happened with the new ranking then?” Your smile is shy when you look at him and Juda looking back at you expectantly.

“I got into group B.”

“YES!” Chenle whoops, grabbing Juda and shaking her by the shoulders. “No more whining and complaining and whinging about the class!” You chuckle as you cheer alongside him, with Jisung looking at your interactions with raised eyebrows.

Laughing, you tuck yourself into his side, linking your arms again as you rest your head on his shoulder. With Juda and Chenle bickering about settling on what movie to watch, you press a quick kiss on his cheek in appreciation.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” You smile at him, to which he grins shyly at. “Even though I lost, the smash pulled me through. Your smashing abilities were so flawless that even I, a young duckling was able to smash through,”

“Okay, thank you for the compliment but maybe don’t say how good my smashing abilities are—”

“You just smash so hard and so well—”

“Please—”

“Jisung the smash master!”

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