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cryptictongues · 10 months ago

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The Thrill of the Chase

pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Mutant!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 7.1K summary: Logan ate part of your sandwich, so you stole his cigars. Things turn out differently from what you were expecting.

warnings: fluff and smut, teasing, slight predator/prey trope, banter, making out, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting, soft!dom Logan

Author's Note: My first Logan fic! X-Men used to be my world and the fact it is making a comeback has rejuvenated me. Also, I was picturing Logan from the first three trilogies but DOFP!Logan also crossed my mind so :)

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

It was getting close to evening, everyone doing their own thing to unwind after a long day of classes and teaching. You had planned to do the same thing, planning to grab a quick bite in the kitchen before getting ready to relax in your room. You were whipping up a quick and easy sandwich, assembling it onto a plate before moving it to the island in the middle of the kitchen. You went to get a soda from the cupboard, only for your skin to raise as you sense something is about to happen: a certain someone was about to come take your sandwich.

“If you take one bite out of my sandwich Logan, I will kick your ass.”

You turn to see him, eyes wide along with his mouth, about to chomp into your dinner. He closes his mouth, only for him to keep the sandwich in his hands and an “innocent” smile on his face.

“Oh, you mean this sandwich?”

You shut the cupboard door, walking over to him with a stern, playful look. You know he is messing with you. That has been the dynamic of your relationship with him. Ever since he decided to stay here at the school and join the X-Men, you two have grown closer and closer, enjoying each other’s company over anyone else. It didn’t matter what either of you did. You both thrived in the presence of one another.

But something that has become common practice as of late was playful in nature. You both have always teased, but it has recently ramped up. If one of you started it, the other would find a way to end it before starting again. It was the push and pull between the two of you that you loved, and it has only made you long for him. You want to believe he feels the same, but even your mutation of precognition can’t fully confirm that.

“Yes, that is my sandwich. I worked very hard on it. I'll have you know.” You are standing in front of him now, having to look up at him slightly as you wait for his next move.

“I’m sure you did. It looks delicious.” He says, but rather than looking at the food, he is looking right at you. Cheeky bastard.

“Y-yeah, which is why I am asking you to put it down so I may enjoy it.”

“I don’t know. I think I wanna have a taste first.”

His hazel eyes are staring you down, almost begging for you to make a move. In reality, you really didn’t care if he ate it. You could easily make another and enjoy dinner with him. But you know that isn’t what he is doing right now. He is playing with you, wanting to rile you up. Well, it takes two to play that game.

“That sandwich is very precious to me. I’d think before you act.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, bringing his face closer to yours. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll take something precious of yours.”

He chuckles, turning his face to the sandwich. “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart.”

He takes a huge bite out of your sandwich, his eyes closing as he chews. You purse your lips, watching him savor your meal with gusto. You know he is overexaggerating to truly get at you, but little does he know you have a trick up your sleeve.

“Enjoying my meal?”

He turns back to you, swallowing before licking his lips. “Very much. I may have to take another bite.”

You get up in his space, settling onto your tippy toes so your face is by his ear. You let your breath waft against his skin, causing a shiver to shake his core. You can tell he is anticipating what you will do, always highly enjoying your responses to his antics. Oh, he is so in for it.

“That’s okay. You can have it.” You let your pointer finger trace his collarbone that is very much on display from his white, fitted tank. “And you want to know why that is, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath, very apparent that your actions are doing something to him. His left hand lets go of the sandwich to settle on your hip, squeezing the flesh slightly to ground himself. It is actions like that that make you believe you do something to him. Like you drive him just as insane as he does to you. You bring your left hand to his head, pulling him down so you can really get into his ear.

“That’s because I know where you keep your special cigars from Cuba, and I am going to take them.”

You couldn’t have run fast enough. You are already shooting for the stairs, taking two steps at a time as you speed to his room. You knew it had taken him a second to realize what had happened because by the time you got to his floor, you heard him yelling your name.

You burst into his room, locking it quickly. It was only to buy some time, for you knew he had a key. You were giggling as you went to his bookcase, plucking out the blue, hardcover history book. You open it, and smile as you see the unopened cigars there in the deep hole where text used to be. Just as you close the book, you hear heavy footsteps reach the door and a jingle of keys.

You panic, needing to find a way out before he opens the door. You could run around him, but you needed a head start. You could hide and wait for him to leave but you knew he’d sniff you out. There was only one option left, and that was to go out his bedroom window. You hear the key enter the lock, and with a quickness you didn’t think you had, you unlocked his window and flung it open. Just as the door busted open, you crawled out. You grasped onto the ivy that clung to the school’s exterior and began to climb down.

“Oh, when I get my hands on you, you are in for it!”

You look up to see Logan’s head popping out the window. He has a scowl on his face, but you could see the wild look in his eyes. You knew he was enjoying this, for he loves the chase.

“This is for taking my sandwich!” You yell, and continue making your descent.

You hear the window close, which makes you go faster, knowing he is rushing down those stairs to meet you at the bottom. You could sense that he would go to the front door, so once your feet touch the grassy floor you run to the back door. Opening it quickly, you determine your next move. He is probably at the front, ready to intercept you, giving you the opportunity to hide somewhere.

You rush to the hallway where many of the classes are held. You run into the first classroom you see, its door already open. You see the large oak desk at the back of the classroom, and quietly walk up to it. It has a space for leg room, so with haste you crawl in it, pulling the chair in carefully to not make any sound.

Your heart was racing, adrenaline thrashing as you hid. You try to steady your breath, trying to keep quiet. The atmosphere has become eerie, the silence defying as you try to keep it that way. You try to listen for any other sounds over your pounding heart, when another wave of cognition hits you. You can see it clearly, where he finds you under the desk, hands on either side to block you in. You know you need to move on, so you go to move the chair, but you suddenly halt when you hear his voice boom nearby.

“Where is she?”

You cover your mouth, trying to hold in your breathing as well as the gasp that almost shot from your mouth. His voice was coated in gravel, and absolutely primal. Even from afar, it was clear he was worked up, and it made you embarrassingly wet.

You hear footsteps enter the hallway, heavy boots against the shiny wooden floor. At first, you think you may have a way out, hearing him pass the room you were in, but you aren’t so lucky because you hear him stop. You grip onto the book and your mouth, even though you know it will do absolutely nothing. You know he senses you, and it is confirmed when you hear footsteps enter the room. You hear him inhale deeply, exhaling with sigh only to turn into a deep rumble.

“I know you are here.” He is slow in taking his steps, and each step gets closer and closer to your hiding place.

He sniffs deeply again, growling this time around like he was a wild animal. “No point in denying it. I could smell you the second I walked into the hall.”

You know he will find you, and he will block you in. So you decide to take a risk before he closes in on you. You push the chair out far enough to crawl out, before standing up behind the desk. You put your hands up with the book in your left one, trying to show off a sign of surrender.

“You have nowhere to go, dollface. No point in trying’ to run for I’ll snatch you up real quick.”

“You must really want your cigars back to block me in like this.”

He steps even closer, with him now standing right in reach of the book. He could easily grab it and take it, for he is much stronger than you. But he doesn’t make a move, staying glued to his new spot. You don’t know what’s running through his head, his eyes trained on you. It isn’t until he places his hands onto the desk that you take a step back and drop your hands.

“You’re wrong.”

You raise a brow, not sure what he is getting at. “What do you mean?”

He smirks, leaning his body over the desk. “It isn’t the cigars I’m after. Not anymore.”

Your heart is in overdrive. You know the answer, it is becoming obvious. But you ask anyway. “Then what are you after, Lo?”

“I think you know the answer. Now it is a matter of will you let me take what’s mine.”

You want to give in. You are becoming more aroused by the second, but you are starting to really enjoy the chase. Seeing how much it gets him going, to see this side of him, only makes you want to push him more. You want to see what he will do, especially when he gets his hands on you.

You walk around the desk, book of cigars still in hand, getting closer to him until you are toe to toe with him. “What’s the fun in surrendering?”

He quickly blocks you in, the desk pressed against your back. He has the most seductive, but feral grin upon his lips, like he thinks he has won his prize. His head leans down to yours, forehead against forehead, before he whispers his next sentence against your lips.

“The fun is in what follows.”

His lips are on yours, desperate and needy. You can’t help the moan that leaves your throat, mind going hazy as his lips devour. You have craved him for so long, you want this to last forever. However, you cannot give into him like this. You will not make this easy for him.

One of your hands goes to the hem of his tank, fingers lingering before going under. He feels so solid, the coarse hairs on his tummy spread thick as you go to his left side. You can feel him shudder over you, and you try to hold back the smirk that wants to curve onto your lips. You move your fingers sporadically over the left side of his ribcage, causing him to jump back. This gives you the chance to run like hell.

“Hey! That’s unfair!” You hear him yell and it makes you giggle profusely. You must thank Jean later for letting you in on that little secret; that the broody, grumpy man with the metal bones was insanely ticklish. You wish you could turn to see his full reaction, but you are too determined.

You can hear him running right behind you, and you have never been more aroused. You shouldn’t feel so turned on by Logan chasing you around, but the thrill of the chase was seeping into your loins and you were addicted.

More people had shown up around the school, meeting with friends to study or hang out for the evening. You were dodging people left and right, and everyone looked perplexed as they saw Logan charging his way towards you. Many of them probably assumed it had to do with the book you were holding, and while they would have been originally right, they are no longer even close.

You don’t have time to hide again, not with him so close behind. You make it back to the stairs, hauling ass as you try to make it to your room. You can hear him right behind you, breathing heavily and grunting with each step. Your room is at the end of the hall, and you are basically flying with how fast you are running. The second you reach the door, you swing it open and throw yourself in before slamming it. You had gotten it shut, mentally pumping your fist in victory, but by the time you went to turn the lock, it was too late. The door flies open, sending you back a couple feet back as Logan stands at the door's entrance.

“I have you right where I want you. No more running.”

If looks could kill, you’d be ash. He enters your room, closing the door behind him with his eyes staying on you. He takes one step forward, with him now hovering over your smaller form. The way he is looking at you makes your knees faint, for you felt you could hear what he was revealing with his stare.

“I still know your weakness, Logan.” You smirk, holding the book up to your face to dodge any attack he was planning. It is pointless, you know, but it is the best defense you’ve got.

“Do you now?” He walks towards you, in step with you as you go backwards. The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed, telling you that you truly have nowhere else to go. He is right on you, grinning now that he has the upper hand.

“I’m afraid that book won’t save you from me.” He snatches the book, tossing it to the side of the bed.

You are in for it. You don’t know what he is planning, and the element of surprise has overcome you. However, with the way he is looking at you, you guarantee that what is about to happen will be just as exhilarating as when he was hunting you down.

“What do you plan to do with me, hm?” You let your fingertips walk along his chest, dancing all the way down to his side like you did earlier.

He is quick to grab your hand, bending down to lift you up in his arm before tossing you onto the bed, following swiftly as he pins both hands above your head.

“Don’t even think about it. I know you all too well.” He growls through his teeth. “As for what I plan on doing, what’s the fun in telling when I can just show you. Would you like that?”

You simply nod, breathless at how he is handling you. However, that wasn’t good enough for him, as he takes hold of your wrists in one hand so his other one can grip your chin.

“I wanna hear you say it, pretty girl.”

You huff, getting frustrated already that he is dragging this out. With your legs still free, you wrap them around his hips, your heels digging into his back causing him to grunt. Your lips are practically on his, faint contact making you antsy. “Show me what you’ve been wanting to do with me.”

Your lips are squashed by his instantly, hunger and desperation clear. His hands go to your thighs, grabbing at the flesh. With your hands free, they go straight to his hair, gripping and tugging on it which causes him to moan hotly into your mouth.

His hands travel up to the hem of your blouse, pushing the fabric up past your stomach before his hands go under. You moan at the contrast, rough hands, that have been through so much running along your unmarred body. He swallows what you give him, groaning happily at the effects he was causing.

You are in heaven. You never thought you would be here like this with Logan. You never thought you would be under him at his complete mercy. It makes a shiver travel down your spine, traveling right to your core that is a heated mess because of the man before you. To be with the man you have pined for is riveting, and you could cry that he seems to return those feelings.

You don’t know what triggers your mutation, but it is sudden. Your vision goes blurry, a strong aura surrounding you. It is overwhelming, a whimper bubbling from your throat as you see what is about to happen. Logan releases your lips with a grunt, looking at you intensely as you start to shake. You feel his rough hands cup your soft cheeks, stroking them gently.

Your cheeks feel hot, your vision turning you into a horny mess. Your hands grip onto Logan’s chest trying to ground yourself to reality. It’s too much. Your visions rarely last long for they are just snippets of future events, but this was different. It was as if you were in a trance, and could feel everything he was doing to you. You don’t know if it is your heightened emotions, especially with him right on you. All you knew is that pleasure was present, and you were starting to fall apart.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You can hear his demeanor change, worry laced in his tone.

“Fuck,” you couldn’t help but moan, unable to control yourself. “I can feel everything, Logan.”

There is a pause, hands still touching your face. A few beats later, he lets his right hand go down, only to stop at your thigh squeezing tightly.

“Tell me what you see, baby.”

The rumble in his voice intensifies everything, causing you to grip onto him tighter. “Oh God please don’t make me say it out loud.”

You try to look away, but his left hand shifts so it is grabbing your chin. He forces your head back up, bringing his face down to yours like he had in the classroom. His breath fans over your lips, taking in the way they move as sounds leave them.

“I’m fucking you, aren’t I? Making you lose yourself on my cock? Is that what you are seeing?”

You can barely talk, too enthralled in your vision. You grab the hand that is on your thigh and bring it to the top of your black pants. Logan gets the idea and angles it so he can slide his hand into them. His fingers brush over the fabric, feeling the damp spot that has formed drastically. You hear him curse under his breath, the vibrations hitting your lips as they brush against one another without full pressure.

“Oh sweetheart, you are so wet.” He murmurs, pulling his hand out to bring it up to his nose, inhaling deeply before releasing a sound so feral that you could sob. “And you smell so fucking good.”

You can’t help but nod, not knowing how to respond. All you know is that you need him. Need him to take you on your bed and do whatever he wants to you. You’ll take anything he is willing to give you, for all you want is for him to make himself known to you.

His hand had gone back down to your crotch, cupping your pussy through the material. “Does she want more attention?”

“Logan, please do something.” You choke, your mind steadily coming back to reality, but still not fully letting go. You start to grind down on his palm, desperate for anything he will give you, but he removes his hand, going to the back of your head to grip tightly.

Damn him!

“I know she deserves something, but do you? Do you deserve me after getting me so worked up like that?”

“Logan, I am begging.” You cry out in frustration, your nails digging into his chest causing him to groan lowly. “I want you. God, I’ve always wanted you so please take what’s yours!”

He is back on you, kissing you till the air in your lungs dissipates. He starts to kiss away from your swollen lips, kissing down to your neck. He nips at your pulse point, going up to your ear to give it a light lick before going back down. With every kiss, he takes a deep breath in, which only makes him get more aggressive. Soft kisses turn to an open mouth lather to nips that could have easily broken the skin.

“I don’t think you know what your scent does to me. It draws me in every time.” He bites down particularly hard at your collar bone, and you wouldn’t be surprised if blood had come to the surface.

His hands come back up to the front of your blouse, carefully unbuttoning the garment before revealing your breasts that are almost spilling out of your bra. His hands mold over the cups, squeezing hard and slow as he makes his way to your sternum.

He is being so gentle with you, a complete 180 from how you thought this was going to go. He was so rough with you in your head, fucking you until you couldn’t even say a word. This side of him was endearing, but you crave more from him.

“For someone so feral for me, you sure are taking your time.”

He bites the top of your left breast, making you gasp at the sudden pain. “I don’t think you are ready for that side of me, dollface.”

Your right hand goes to his head, taking a handful of his hair and yanking his head up. You know he wants to absolutely ravish you, and if it’s some convincing he needs, some convincing he is going to get.

“When I said to take what’s yours, I meant it. I want you to make me beg until I’m dumb, so fucking do it.”

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, Princess.”

His hands go under your top from the back, unclipping your bra before letting them resurface. He starts to yank your top off from the shoulders, only to smack your thigh that causes a light sting.

“Arch that back for me.”

You do as he says, allowing him to take the rest of your top off along with your bra. He flings them both across the room, only to do the same with his tank. You’ve seen his upper body plenty of times, as there would be instances in which he disregards it for a training session. But this? This was very different. It’s a different atmosphere, and rather than everyone getting an eye full of his muscular, hairy body, it is now for your eyes only.

He’s looking down at you, pupils flared as he takes you in. You shiver as his palms stroke your tummy, slowly going up until they encompass your breasts. Your nipples pebble from the rough texture of his skin, and you can see it excites him. So much so that he takes the opportunity to take your nipples between his fingers and pulls them gently with a pinch. Your back bows off the mattress, adoring the pain he is providing, and let out a mewl as he lets go to run his thumbs over the tender peaks.

“You sound so good,” Logan murmurs. “I need to hear more.”

His right arm goes under your back to keep you up, holding you there as his mouth goes to your left breast. He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking with his eyes still on you. Your cheeks flush, head tilting to the side to avoid looking at him. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much.

Whimpers slip from your mouth, his treatment of your breasts making you want to rub your thighs together to soothe the ache, but he keeps your legs open. He eventually does the same to your other breast, working to match the work he left on your other nipple: hard, and tainted red.

He lets up, sitting on his knees as he unbuttons your pants, hands sliding the material down your legs in earnest. He tosses your heels off before stripping away your bottoms, and he hums as he admires the black, lacy thong you adorn.

“Fuck,” he snaps the elastic, eyes entranced. “You sure you didn’t see this coming earlier? Wearing something sexy like this?”

“They work better with my pants.” You huff, his fingers lightly running along your covered slit.

“Hmm, no wonder your ass looked so good today.” He grins. “But this pussy? I could play with her all day.”

He lowers himself, sliding off the bed only to bring you with him, your body gliding across the comforter with ease. He clutches onto your thighs, letting your legs rest in the crook of his elbows. He keeps his hold tight, bringing his lips down to kiss and suck on your thighs. You gasp at the aggressiveness, swearing you will see dark purple marks on you later. You moan at the idea, as it feels like he is finally claiming you; like are his to mark, to claim, to fuck, to love.

He makes his way to your center, sniffing deeply before releasing a feral growl. He lets the tip of his tongue lightly drag from the bottom to the top of your heat, still fully covered by the damned thong. He flicks at your clit, a ghost of a touch that has you bucking your hips. And he draws back every single time. His self-control is impressive but frustrating all the same.

He starts to suck on it through the material, creating a bigger wet spot with his spit. The more he pushed his tongue against your folds, the more the material would rub just right against you. It made you clench, panting at how much he is teasing you. He pulls away, blowing on your sensitive spot which only makes you whine.

“Awe what is it?” He chuckles, the vibrations barely hitting where you need him. “You want my tongue to play with you?”

His hand lets go of your thigh, fingers tracing the fabric before pulling it to the side. “Lucky for you, I love to play.”

He goes right in, mouth over your bud as he consumes your very being. Your hands shoot to his hair, not prepared for the onslaught of pleasure he is delivering. The swirls he is landing on his target is mind numbing, a tangible pressure that makes you want to curl in on yourself.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, the sound vibrating right on your clit. It makes you buck your hips up, but his left arm presses you down to keep you secure.

“I know you want more, but you are going to have to be patient. I’m not done tasting this sweet pussy. Fuck, you are so sweet.”

You feel one of his fingers near your hole, circling it teasingly before pushing in. His tongue is back on your nerves, mouthing covering it to add slight suction. Even with his big fingers, it’s not nearly enough.

“Logan, please add another.” You say, emphasizing as you clench down on his single digit.

He sucks a little harder, ripping a yelp from your throat. Still, he listens and inserts a second finger with the first. He goes in and out, drawing sighs from your lips as he builds you up. His mouth is going crazy, moving his lips with a vengeance. Your blood is hot, traveling down as your release starts to come to the surface.

You can’t stop clamping down on his fingers, your pussy having a mind of its own. He is pistoning them now, causing your fluids to make its way down your ass onto the comforter. The sounds coming from his handiwork edge you further, your release imminent.

“Oh God, Logan! I’m cumming!”

Big mistake on your part.

He pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A smug look appears on his face, and you have the urge to shove his face back into your aching cunt.

“Your first time cumming with me will be on my cock, sweetheart.”

He pulls your thong down your legs and moves you back to the front of the bed. He stands before you, making light work of removing his belt from the loops of his jeans. His jeans are next, pulling them down with his briefs.

You don’t know what you expected. You weren’t surprised with how well endowed he was, not with the way he is built. But to see it in person is so much different from your imagination. The details that your mind didn’t conjure up, especially the vein that starts from his lower stomach to the tip of his cock. It makes you salivate, wanting to run your tongue along it.

“You like what you see, darlin’?” He noticed you staring, but you have no shame. Not anymore.

“Yeah, want it in my mouth so bad.”

He walks over to you, his cock in your face. His hand goes to your head, stroking the baby hairs that are starting to stick to your temple. “As much as I would love that, I am dying to give you the fucking you deserve, sweetheart. However…” he brings your head up closer to his cock, your lips not even an inch away. “How about you get it nice and wet for me.”

You don’t have to be told twice. You work up a good amount of spit, letting it drip from your mouth onto his hard cock. You start to lick at the sides, spreading your saliva all over until he is covered. You are basically making out with his dick, your lips and tongue moving like you had when you were kissing him earlier. It isn’t until you get to that vein of his that you start to go wild, licking it up and down.

Logan is groaning deeply, and pulls your head back, a string of saliva connecting before breaking apart. You hear him curse under his breath before crawling back onto the bed, his hands holding your face as he brings his lips to you. His kisses are slow this time, letting it sink in that this is happening; that you two are about to be connected.

“You did such a good job. You are such a good girl.” He murmurs against your lips before sitting up.

His dick is now sitting heavy on your mound, and the weight of it feels delicious. He taps it against your clit a few times, your hips thrusting up in kind.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?” He lets his cock rut into your folds, thrusting up into your clit. “I think that sweet thing of yours is.”

“Give it to me, Lo. I need you so bad it hurts.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take that pain away.” He promises.

And as promised, he places the tip right at your aching hole and pushes in slowly. Your jaw slacks, the pressure as he continues his descent much more intense than you anticipated. It’s been so long since you’ve given yourself to someone. It all feels new, and you are thankful; thankful that it's with him.

He is fully seated in you, and you can only describe it as euphoric. With the way he sits heavy in your cunt, filling you up completely, you can honestly say that this was meant to happen. Logan was meant to be with you in every single possible way imaginable. It’s the only explanation.

“How does it feel, baby?” Logan asks, hands rubbing up and down your thighs soothingly.

“It feels,” you whimper, gripping down on him. “It feels so good, Lo.”

“Yeah? My cock makin’ you feel good, doll?” He groans, clearly being affected by your behavior.

Before you can mutter a pathetic answer, your brain turning to mush, he shifts back. His cock slides out until the mushroom head is at your entrance, and then he slams back in; hard and slow.

The constant back and forth of his cock has you shaking, his hard thrust knocking the air out of your lungs and the slow thrusts feeling oh so good. And with the way he is watching you, his face mimicking yours as he receives his own pleasure, is sending zaps of electricity to your cunt. It makes you grasp onto him hard as he gets you more worked up.

Logan sits up straighter, grabbing your right leg and bringing it up to his shoulder. His left hand keeps it steady as he speeds up slightly and presses gentle kisses to your ankle in the process. It lets him go deeper, kissing your cervix every time it goes in. The pressure feels incredible, and the more he speeds up, the more your cunt starts to spasm out of control.

“That’s it, baby. You are taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me.” He growls out, biting your ankle.

“God yes, Logan! I’m yours!” You cry out, him and his cock making you utterly delirious. “You were made for my pussy!”

“Fuck, you got a mouth on you.” He chides, his right hand going to your right breast.

He is squeezing your tit so tight; his hips are on autopilot with how fast he is taking you. Your hands don’t know where to go, going from gripping the fabric below to holding onto his wrist. He is putting you into a completely fucked out state, and you can’t get enough of that treatment.

You can tell you are on the precipice of cumming. You are clenching on and off rapidly, no longer in control of your muscles. The sounds coming from your coupling, wet smacking echoes that are music to your ears. You can feel the telltale sensation of being overwhelmed, and you know you are now on the track of no return.

“Logan, baby, I’m gonna cum!”

He snarls at you, a crazed look in his eyes as he slams into you. He lets go of your tit to grab your chin, keeping your eyes on his. “Do it, darlin’. Cum around my cock.”

You are over the edge in seconds, a silent scream taking over as you tremble and quake. Your pussy is convulsing like crazy, small gushes of liquid coming out. You see Logan look down at where you two are connected, and he is grinning like crazy.

“What a fucking sight. There isn’t one thing about you that isn’t pretty.”

You could sob at his words, especially with how overstimulated you are becoming. You work his cock, wanting him to cum inside of you.

“Give me your cum, Logan. Fill me until I’m dripping.”

Your words must have triggered something because next thing you know he has let go of your leg and face and is falling onto his forearms with his mouth landing on yours. You hear the sound of his claws, completely unsheathed from his skin, causing him to bellow into your mouth, rutting like a madman which causes cum to leak out from your hole onto the bedding.

He slows down, milking out the rest of his spend before stopping all together. He lets go of your lips gasping, face buried in your shoulder as he tries to calm down. Your hands go to his back, massaging the taut muscles as he shakes.

“Fuck, Logan,” you sigh, catching your breath as you come back to earth. You feel so relaxed, even with your guts feeling completely rearranged.

You hear his claws sink back into his skin, and it is then that he pulls out, falling to the other side of the bed. His chest is going up and down with every heavy breath, and you can’t help but admire him like this.

He turns his head over to you, his hand coming to grab the hand by your side. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

You make it over into his side, head laying on his chest as you both bask in the post-sex glow. You can’t help but smile at this turn of events, not expecting to have been in this position with Logan. But here you are, laying on his chest with his arms around you.

You notice something in your peripherals and see splintering from the headboard of your bed. There are six holes in the wood, and it sends you into a laughing fit, a euphoric glaze covering your entire body.

“What’s so funny?” He asks gruffly, pulling you into side as you continue to laugh.

“Your claws pierced my headboard.”

You see him glance back, and you see him sigh, relaxing more into the mattress. “I’ll fix it up for you, darlin’. I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to say sorry.” You snuggle your face into his skin, breathing in his natural musk as you relax more into him. “I just can’t believe we did that, but I’m glad it did.”

“I can say the same.” He murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “Seriously, I gotta know, did you see this coming?”

You shift up, going to lay your arms across his chest only for you to rest on them. You look into his eyes and the need in them is still there, but not in the way they were before. They were searching, looking for any confirmation that what you both just did truly meant more. It makes him look vulnerable, something he rarely shows. It makes you smile at the prospect of him opening up even more.

“Not until today. It’s strange now that I think about it.”

“And why is that?”

“I never saw you coming, I guess. Even when it is clear as day how you felt about me, I never got anything that told me it was real. I didn’t want to potentially screw anything up between us.”

He hums, a look of contemplation on his face before taking a hand and rubbing his face, a long sigh coming out in the process. “I suppose that’s my fault.”

You can’t help but look confused. His fault? “Why do you say that?”

“I haven’t been fully honest, but ever since I came here, no matter how welcomed and appreciated I am here, I have contemplated leaving.” His hand leaves his face to go behind your neck, lightly scratching the skin at the nape before continuing. “I’ve been alone for a long time. Having a family has never been in the books for me. It is easier to not let people in.”

“So, that’s why I couldn’t see you coming. You hadn’t made up your mind?”

“It’s possible, but it’s just a theory.”

“But, if that’s the case, have you made your mind up?” You start rubbing his chest with your palm, feeling his heart pulse slowly. You are confident you know the answer now, but you want to hear him say it.

He grunts in laughter, shaking his head slightly before letting his fingers curl around the back of your neck. “I think you know the answer, princess. But if you really want to know, come up here.”

You push yourself from him, moving so you are straddling his torso. He brings his hands to your face once more, pulling you down so you are face to face with him. He kisses you, slowly initiating intimacy with his lips. He isn’t saying anything, but you can feel what he is saying through the act alone.

“I can’t close myself off from you,” he says between kisses. “And I don’t want to. Especially if you’ll have me.”

“I think you already know the answer to that, Lo.”

“Still, I wanna hear you say it.”

You pull away so you can look into his eyes, giving him all the sincerity you can muster. “I love you, and I want you to stand by me.”

He smiles teeth and all, and pulls you back down, kissing all over your face causing you to squeal. “Hmm I love you too, sweetheart. Always have.”

You both stay like that for a while, basking in each other's company in post-coital ecstasy by continuing to taste one another. Another thought came over you, and you can’t help but laugh again.

“If I had known sex would make you like this, I would have made a move a long time ago.” Logan jokes, breathing them in.

“I’m sorry, but I’m laughing because it took me taking your cigars hostage to do it.”

Logan throws his head back, chuckling at what you presume is the same thing you are laughing about.

“Speaking of those cigars, can you grab them for me?”

You perk up, pushing away from him to lean over to your side of the bed. Your fingers stretch for the book, getting a grasp on it before getting settled back with Logan. He pulls you in quickly, hurdling you into his side. You see he has his lighter ready, which he must have grabbed while you were getting his cigars.

“You gonna smoke one?”

He hums, taking one out. “I only smoke these on special occasions. I think this qualifies.”

He carefully unsheathes a claw, cutting the end before it sinks back under his skin. He flickers the lighter, letting the bright flame linger on the end to get a good burn going. He then lays back, pulling you even closer into his side, before taking his first puff.

You smile, laying your head against him as you let your eyes drift closed. You feel yourself drifting away, the smell of his cigar and the sound of his pulse lulling you to a deep sleep; a sleep with dreams that you hope feel like déjà vu in the near future.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #logan fic #logan smut #x-men fic #my fics

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mangooes · 2 months ago

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Arguments and understanding

“Don’t raise your voice at me, Sylus.”

(Name) stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, her hair spilling down her shoulders like defiant flames. Her eyes sparkled—not with their usual mischief, but with frustration.

“You’re being unreasonable,” Sylus shot back, pacing like a caged storm. His crimson eyes burned. “You always run headfirst into things without thinking!”

“And you always try to control everything! I’m not one of your pawns, Sysy. I’m your wife!”

The name on her lips softened the edges of the fire—but only for a second.

Then it happened. He didn’t mean it.

But his voice rose. Not in anger—but in panic. In fear.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed, (Name)!”

Silence dropped like a hammer.

Her expression broke—not entirely, but enough that the hurt cracked through. No witty comeback. No sarcasm. She just… stared at him, the silence between them so loud it rang in his ears.

Then, without a word, she turned.

Walked out.

The door clicked behind her.

And Sylus… let her.

He stood in the suffocating quiet, heart pounding like war drums. His pride told him to let her breathe. His logic told him she’d be back soon.

But something deeper—the dragon part of him, the soul that remembered a girl wrapped in light—twisted in warning.

Minutes passed.

Then an hour.

Then two.

By the third hour, Sylus was pacing like a storm god barely contained. The moment Luke and Kieran passed by, catching sight of his expression, they froze mid-step.

“Where’s the Missus?” Luke asked slowly, already fearing the answer.

“She’s not back yet.”

The twins didn’t need to be told twice.

Without a single order, they bolted—checking city surveillance, phone pings, familiar haunts. Sylus called Mephisto to life with a hiss of his Evol, the mechanical bird’s eyes flashing as it shot into the night skies.

And Sylus?

He grabbed his helmet, swung onto his obsidian-black bike, and rode like hell.

Street after street blurred into streaks of neon and darkness. He searched alleyways, rooftops, the hidden corners of N109 where shadows whispered danger. His Evol flared with every heartbeat, a restless mist of crimson and black wrapping around him like a cloak of rage and desperation.

She was gone.

And all he could see in his mind was her again—that past life, when she left to protect him and never returned.

His hands shook on the handlebars.

He couldn’t lose her again.

He wouldn’t.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When dawn broke and the search turned up nothing, Sylus reluctantly returned home, jaw clenched, every muscle in his body wound tight.

The manor was quiet.

Too quiet.

He stepped through the front door, and for the first time in hours—he saw her.

There she was.

Curled up on the couch in her coat, cheek pressed to a throw pillow, a soft rise and fall in her chest.

Sleeping.

As if she hadn’t just ripped the soul out of him for the past five hours.

Sylus didn’t move at first. He just stood there, frozen in the doorway, trying to make sure it wasn’t some hallucination. That she was really here.

He stepped forward. Then another. And another.

Until he dropped to his knees beside her, breath catching in his throat as he reached out, gently tucking a few stray strands of her hair behind her ear.

She stirred slightly. Her lips were parted. Her cheeks faintly flushed from the cold. She smelled like winter wind and sugar.

Sylus exhaled—long and shaking—and leaned down, kissing her forehead with trembling lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her skin. “I’m so damn sorry.”

Carefully, he picked her up, lifting her effortlessly into his arms and sinking onto the couch with her sprawled across his chest. She shifted instinctively, nuzzling closer, her arms wrapping loosely around his middle.

Sylus rested his cheek against her curls.

Only then did he allow himself to close his eyes.

Only then did he breathe again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was just rising when (Name) blinked awake.

She felt warm.

Safe.

Trapped.

Because she was completely, utterly caged in by her husband—Sylus's strong arms wrapped tight around her as if she’d vanish again if he so much as loosened his hold. Her legs tangled with his, and her cheek was pressed to his bare chest where his heart beat like a war drum.

She shifted, squirming slightly.

Sylus stirred.

Eyes fluttered open—burning crimson in the early light. The moment he realized she was awake, he sat up halfway, holding her face in both hands.

“Sweetie,” he breathed, voice ragged. “Gods—I thought I lost you.”

“I just went for a walk…” she mumbled, guilt instantly sweeping through her when she saw the raw emotion in his eyes.

“For hours,” he said, voice cracking. “Without a word. No Mephisto. No calls. I searched the entire goddamn city for you.”

Tears prickled her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was being selfish. I didn’t think… I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sylus didn’t reply.

He just pulled her in and kissed her—deep and fierce and full of everything he didn’t know how to say with words. She melted into it, fingers clenching in his shirt, tears slipping down her cheek.

“I’m here,” she murmured against his lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not unless you want me to lose my mind again,” he said softly, kissing her forehead.

Meanwhile, outside the hallway…

Luke and Kieran dragged themselves into the manor, looking like war survivors.

Kieran squinted at the living room. “You seeing what I’m seeing?”

Luke groaned. “Yep. Boss and Missus making out on the couch. Again.”

“…They couldn’t even pretend to be traumatized with us.”

Luke shook his head. “I want a raise. A big one. With hazard pay.”

“Same. Let’s go lie down before one of them starts baking ‘apology cookies’ again.”

The twins retreated with groans while peace finally returned to the mansion.

And on the couch, Sylus held his wife like a lifeline—his soul finally, finally whole again.

HI IM SORRY IF THIS IS NOT TOO ANGSTY I TRIED OKAY AKSDNASK I CANT WRITE ANGST FOR GODS SAKE LMAOO

#sylus x reader #lnds #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #qin che #lads sylus #sylus

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satoblue · 3 months ago

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“ANATOMY” — gojo satoru

you’re very interested in satoru’s overall physique, and more importantly, the things that make it glaringly obvious that he is a man. | wc: 1.4k

f!reader, established relationship (dating), you stare (hard), satoru’s adam’s apple is a warning in itself, sexual jokes so suggestive, satoru thinks you’re a perv and a weirdo (he’s the real one), mentions of cannibalism and murder, you have a question, boyfie is a menace. | dividers made by me

“weirdo.”

at the sound of satoru’s voice, you’re snapped out of your daze, cheek lifting from where you previously rested it on your palm.

“huh?”

your boyfriend leans back in his seat, folding his muscular arms over his chest — and you have to stop yourself from staring at how they strain under his dress shirt and the ceaseless movement of the sphere in his throat.

it’s so obvious and just… there. it wiggles and bobs whenever he swallows or talks, it’s hard not to notice. and it’s pointy too, almost to the point it looks painful.

part of you wants to pinch it, squeeze it — bite it. and maybe, even suck on it like a lollipop. and you know he’d let out a throaty little groan — it’s simply in his dna to.

a shiver through his body here, a tremble there — all because of the suction of your mouth and the wetness of your saliva on his skin. it’d leave a mark - red and glaring - as satoru tends to bruise easily. it would mean something — that his body belongs to you.

tossing you a suspicious look, he eyes you in a calculating manner with his piercing gaze as if reading the pages of an open book, brows raised.

after a beat, he purses his lips. “you’re staring really hard at my neck . . . either you want to tear a piece off, or you’re finding out ways to strangle me to death.”

parting your lips, you’re about to argue his absurd claims (though, the second option looks increasingly tempting by the second) — but he puts a hand up quickly to shush you.

“aht, aht.” satoru arches a brow. and you huff, but grow silent regardless.

with a sigh, he shakes his head before looking you right in the eye and continuing. “i’m super shy, you know?”

here we go. you roll your eyes.

everyone who knows him at all knows that is farthest from the truth.

“really, when you look at me like that, it makes me kinda nervous and concerned for my safety.” he finishes like a delicate flower, lashes fluttering.

you snort at his display. “oh, please. whatever you were thinking just now — it’s not that.”

“which one? cannibalism, or murder?”

you groan, and a sly, amused grin can’t help but creep onto his face, cerulean blues shimmering with delight and a knowing.

to consume him or to kill him? — that is the question. would it be wrong to say yes to both? this way, you’d know more past his mouth and cock, past saliva and semen. you’d taste and feel his blood.

there is no greater knowing than that.

your boyfriend leans in close, eyes trained on your expression, trying to decipher you where you sit, as if dying to hear a juicy secret. “or are you secretly a vampire and you’re plotting to turn me?”, he inquires playfully, eyes going wide in emphasis behind his shades.

“to be honest, i don’t think i want to be immortal.” satoru ponders, pulling away suddenly and tapping his pointer finger against his lips in thought.

gosh, he just loves to hear himself talk.

then he pauses, turning to face you again and speaks in a sincere tone. “but, if it means spending eternity with you, i wouldn’t mind.”

you hate to admit it, but your heart flutters a bit.

you squash it down real fast.

before you can come up with a clever comeback to his flirting, your boyfriend faints back in his seat dramatically, exposing his neck.

“bite away!”, he cries, palm to his forehead.

your airway stutters, pointedly avoiding his adam’s apple which seems to appear more deliciously prominent - sharper - than before with his head thrown back. “just make sure it doesn’t hurt too much — i have sensitive skin.”

the sight flusters you as satoru easily does, and in a moment of pure instinct, you deliver a tiny flick to his cheek — and he sits right back up.

“ow!” his hand flies up to clutch the side of his face protectively. “i just said my skin is sensitive.” he pouts, rubbing the afflicted, reddening area.

“oh, you poor, dainty thing.” you drone in a monotone voice, trying to appear cool as you attempt to still the erratic beating of your heart.

he grumbles, but his eyes take on a mischievous glint. knowing. though, before he can open his big mouth to expose you, you beat him to it. you adjust in your seat, clearing your throat.

“i’m just curious about—”

“aw, curious? about liddol ol’ me?”, he interrupts almost immediately, unable to help himself. “that’s sweet, sweets.” satoru places a hand over his heart with a coo, heavily endeared.

“can you let me finish?”, you deadpan. he gives you a thumbs up with a goofy grin. idiot.

you smile against your will, his incredibly and annoyingly infectious. shifting forward a bit, resting your elbows on the table, you point at the area of his neck at a distance.

“it’s just…” you start slowly, unsure how to word your words. “your adam’s apple—” satoru grins manically in absolute glee as soon as they lift off your tongue, eyes widening a fraction behind the dark lenses.

“ah, i see...” he speaks calmly, the insane look on his face portraying the exact opposite of his tone.

you hum, breath catching in your throat slightly.

“pervert.”

taken aback, blood rushes to your face. you practically flinch, like you’ve been smacked — and it is incredibly gratifying to satoru that he manages to fire you up like this.

“i am not!”

“yes, you are.~” he sings. “admit it. you want to explore me.”

“what i want is to explore a way out of your presence...” you mumble under your breath. but, satoru hears it — and his eyes twinkle brightly at your cheeky response.

with a huff, you lean back in your chair, arms crossed over your chest — and you don’t miss how satoru seems to inspect that movement rather intensely, especially your breasts.

and he calls you the pervert.

your boyfriend smiles innocently at your behavior, urging you to finish. “i was just gonna say that — it looks like it hurts.” you murmur, a finger absentmindedly tracing the edge of the table.

“hm, does it?”, satoru inquires with a low and curious hum, suddenly invading your space until he’s unbelievably close in proximity than before. all you could smell is him with his chest right up against your arm, pure amusement lacing his voice.

you tense up in surprise.

even after all this time, you can’t help how nervous he makes you feel, the butterflies in your stomach that border on a tummy ache, as if you’re being examined under a microscope anytime his sights land on you.

unable to meet his gaze even with the barrier his sunglasses provide, you opt to stare down at your lap, fidgeting with your hands and fighting the warmth in your face the best you can.

but satoru knows. he always knows. he knows the effect he has on you in an instant. it’s written in your biology to react this way with him and only him.

“yeah…”, you mumble, swallowing thickly. “it’s like a ball is stuck in your throat or something..?” your voice grows quieter and unsure as you speak. once you’re done, you don’t get a response from him, and you’re too anxious to look up at his face for his reaction.

it’s intimidating, really. satoru is usually so loud. but, when he goes silent, it feels like he’s judging you. and when he does, the more embarrassed you get. it’s as though you want to impress him even when he’s already yours.

and you just said something real stupid, didn’t you?

time seems to sit still for ages, but in reality, it’s only a good five seconds before he does anything.

with a lighthearted chuckle, he pats your head once as if sensing your inner turmoil, soothing you like he would one of his students — a child. you were just so adorable sometimes, he thinks.

a muscle in your eye twitches.

“well, i don’t know about that. but…”, he moves closer into your space until you could practically feel him in your veins as he whispers in your ear. you shiver, body rigid as his breath brushes against your skin, voice impossibly low and serious before—

“i do know a pair of balls that can hurt if you stare at them long enough.”

you blink, and all of a sudden, the humiliation that previously plagued you vanishes into thin air — his sickness like a remedy to your ills. your head tilts up a bit, staring blankly ahead at something far, distant, and forever out of your reach.

sanity.

“i can show you those when we go home later.” he giggles.

“it’ll be our little lesson in anatomy.”

#᠙𑣱 — aomi writes #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo headcanons #jjk drabbles #gojo fluff

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goofygubegubler · 3 months ago

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𝑺𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒐𝒃𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅

Spencer throws out a comment so uncharacteristically bold that even Morgan is speechless.

wc: 768 | F!Reader (established relationship) | cw: VERY suggestive

A/N: I’m honestly blown away by all the love on my first fic—thank you so much! I’ve got more in the works, including blurbs and maybe even a few one-shots. My asks are open, so feel free to send requests or just chat! Hope you enjoy this one—it's short and oh so sweet <3

Your desk was a mess—files spread out, coffee half-drunk, and a notepad filled with half-legible scribbles. Across from you, Spencer was deep in his own pile of paperwork, meticulously writing everything out by hand, as usual. Despite having access to every digital tool imaginable, he still swore by pen and paper, claiming it helped him retain information better. It was kinda endearing, in a stubborn, old-man way.

You were in the middle of reviewing a case file, flipping through pages while absentmindedly tapping your pen against your desk, when you heard Morgan stroll over to Spencer’s desk.

“Come on, pretty boy,” Morgan said, dropping his coffee onto Spencer's desk with a thud. “You mean to tell me you, the guy who once used the word ‘cloacal kiss’ in casual conversation, has nothing to say about his own mating habits?”

Your fingers hovered over your mouse as you scrolled through your playlist on your monitor, hesitating between switching to something instrumental or letting the indie rock keep playing. Oh boy. Here we go.

Spencer barely looked up, flipping a page in his file. “Because, unlike you, I don’t feel the need to turn my personal life into locker room talk.”

Morgan grinned. "I’m just saying, man, if all that reading has you treating sex like a final exam, I got some study guides for you."

Spencer finally lifted his head, blinking at him like he was the dumbest person alive. “Morgan, your definition of 'expertise' is having a lot of experience. Mine is actually understanding the mechanics of what you’re talking about.”

Morgan scoffed. “That’s not even—listen, Savannah and I are solid, okay? And I’m just saying, for a guy who overexplains everything, you sure get real quiet about this topic.”

Spencer gave him a flat look, putting his pen down. "Morgan, sex isn’t complicated. It’s just applied physics with a little bit of chemistry—and if done correctly, some very impressive biology."

JJ, who had apparently been listening in, snorted. "That might be the nerdiest thing you’ve ever said—and that’s saying something."

Morgan threw up his hands. "See? This is what I’m talking about! The man could turn seduction into a science fair project."

Morgan pointed at Spencer, then at you, then back at Spencer, clearly trying to form a comeback. Before he could, Spencer sighed and said, "Morgan, what do you want me to say? Yes, I have sex. Yes, I enjoy it. No, I’m not about to give you a play-by-play."

Morgan opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, searching for something—anything—that wouldn't result in him taking yet another loss. Finally, he let out a deep sigh, grabbed his coffee, and pointed a finger at Spencer. "We're not done."

Spencer just smiled, leaning back slightly in his chair. "Morgan, I hate to break it to you, but we were done the moment you started this conversation."

You were still working, or at least making a half-hearted attempt at it, but you weren’t exactly subtle. Your grip on the pen had tightened, your page-flipping slowed, and the barely-contained smirk on your face was giving you away completely. Spencer noticed—of course, he did. His sharp eyes flicked toward you, and the way his lips curled just slightly told you he knew you were listening.

He tilted his head, eyebrows raised in amusement. "Don’t act like you didn’t hear that."

You huffed, shaking your head as you clicked play on your music.

The first few soft notes of "Juno" by Sabrina Carpenter filtered through your headphones.

But your mind was already elsewhere—lingering on the way Spencer had leaned back so casually, how he hadn’t hesitated once, how damn sure of himself he had been. You bit your lip, heat crawling up your spine. You liked the way he’d said it—like he knew exactly what effect he had on you, and he wasn’t afraid to use it. Like he enjoyed it. Like he was claiming something, not just stating a fact. And that was the part that really got to you. You liked being seen, being wanted, being talked about like you were something worth studying, something worth knowing inside and out.

But you were at work. And work meant focus, control, and professionalism. You exhaled, straightening in your chair and forcing your attention back to the case file in front of you. Even as you tried to push it aside, the heat still curled in your stomach, his voice replaying in your head like a song you couldn’t shake.

And then, as if on cue, Sabrina Carpenter’s voice cut through the moment:

"Sorry if you feel objectified."

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sweetblossomsss · 22 days ago

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IN THE NIGHT || J. YH (1/3)

Synopsis: You were just trying to survive. Dance, collect money, pay off your debt. Repeat. What you were not trying to do is to fall in love with someone you can’t have—not when you are owned by someone dangerous.

THEME: mafia!Yunho x Stripper!Reader

Warnings: Alright here we go. ANGSTY (MY FAV), SMUT, eating out, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, lots of back and forth/push and pull (you have been warned), mention of guns, someone gets shot, Yunho and Y/N are idiots in love, cursing, drinking, drunkenness, Y/N is in denial most of the time, we have Jae (IFYKYK), at his point he’s going to be my paid actor in my stories (Jae isn’t based on anyone), fluff, adorable happy ending, a drunk guy who tries to get at Y/N, have to break this up into 3 parts because tumblr hates me, I know I’m missing just lmk. PART 2, PART 3

Word count: 46K

Date started: EST 2024 Date Finished: June 4, 2025

Blossom’s Note: My petals, thank you for being patient. I haven’t forgotten about you. Life has just been hitting really hard. I’m doing my best to keep writing so bear with me. Now that we have that out the way, Yunho in this story had be kicking my feet at times. Let’s give an around of applause for Jae making a comeback in a different story lmao. Story was inspired by Obsessive by Lumi, Obsession by Mellina, and In the Night by The Weeknd. You know what to do, grab that popcorn and drinks and let’s get into it.

—

You sat in front of the vanity, brushing powder on your face to ease the shine on your face with practiced, steady hands. The low thumping of the bass from the club pulsed through the room.

You applied the final touches—coating the lashes some more with mascara, one more swipe of lip gloss, brushing through your hair with your finger, fluffing it out.

Lastly, you spritzed perfume along your neck and collarbone, scrunching your face up at the intensity of the smell as you waved the air off with your hand.

Placing the perfume down, you let out a sigh. Your eyes flickered to the mirror in front of you, roaming at your reflection. You felt the nerves kicking in, slowly.

Tonight was important. There was no room for mistakes—no room for excuses.

Jae’s orders.

And speaking of the devil—

A knock from the door echoed in the room. You stiffened slightly, trying to keep your composure but now having the nerves coursing through your veins at full speed. There was no need to turn around to know who it was.

Your eyes flickered through the mirror and stared at him. “There she is,” Jae murmured with a smirk as he stood leaning against the doorframe. His eyes are roaming with hunger—dripping with satisfaction at the sight of you. “My star.”

Your back straightens—gut twisting as he steps into the room all slow and deliberate. When he reaches behind you, his hand slides over your chest, all possessive like.

“You look so beautiful.” His palm flattened against your skin before reaching up to your throat, “All mine.”

You remained stiffened under his touch, jaw clenching. You watched him lean in causing you to exhale through your nose in disgust—fright. His lips brushing the shell of your ear, “Tonight we’ve got a very special guest.” His voice is low, almost playful. “Do not disappoint me.”

Your eyes flicked to the mirror.

Blank.

Still.

“Do I ever?” You asked him with calmness—too calm. Your hands forming into fists, trying to ease your mind.

Jae hummed as he tilted his head side to side slightly, “Mm, no.” He said thoughtfully. “But you’ve got this habit of forgetting who is in charge.” He pressed his body closer to you, “You start thinking you are free.”

The word free sends goosebumps in your body.

Oh, how you yearn to be out of this.

His breath touched your skin as he whispered. “Let me remind you once more—you are here because I allow it.”

“How can I forget?” You murmured, voice feeling tight, “You remind me every chance you get.”

A pause.

Silence.

You then hear a soft tsk. His hand slipped from your neck to your jaw, forcing you to face him, causing you to let out a soft gasp.

His eyes held that hungry, possessive look.

“That mouth of yours,” he muttered as he leaned in closely, gripping tightening, “it’s going to get you in trouble one day.”

He flickered his eyes between yours before letting go of your face, which caused you to inhale sharply as your hand reached to soothe the aching sensation on your face as you glared at him through the mirror.

“But don’t worry,” he circled behind you. “Not tonight.”

Your mouth parted slightly as you let out a shaky breath, eyes still on him. “Tonight I need to seal this deal.” He said as he stood still behind you.

He leaned down next to your face, removing some strands of hair from your face. You closed your eyes under his touch, feeling scared. “And I am counting on you to make sure it happens.”

His words held something dark which made your skin crawl as you clenched your jaw. He turned his head to your lips, leaning in, “Don’t make me regret it.” He whispered.

Your eyes snapped open as you looked at him through the mirror, hand sliding slowly off your face.

His words felt sharper than a knife.

He smirks at your reaction and stands up, taking a few steps back. And just like that—

He was gone.

Leaving the horrid, chilling of his absence behind.

The door clicked shut.

Silence.

You felt the beating of your heart in your ears. You don’t move—not right away at least.

Your eyes looked into the mirror and saw that they were hollow—empty of life and light behind them. You saw the way you slightly shook, raising your hand slightly to watch it tremble.

You placed both hands on the table and closed your eyes. You inhaled and exhaled deeply—shaky—and then opened your eyes.

You blinked once. Twice.

Then—

You snapped out of it.

It’s time to get to work.

You reached for the powder once more—calming down the slight redness from Jae’s touch. You then just moved on autopilot—hands moving like they belonged to someone else.

You can’t afford to tremble in fear tonight.

Not when the wrong breath, glance, movement—anything—could send everything into a dangerous spiral.

You stood up and leaned your hands onto the table. “Showtime.” You whispered to yourself.

You turned around, heels clicking against the floor as you made your way to the door—mask in place, heart gone.

—

You could hear the loud chatter of men as you walked to the stage behind the curtains. You watched as your coworkers came off stage, talking about how exhausted they were.

Finally you arrived and took off your robe, handing it to security near the steps that lead to the stage. He places a comforting hand on your arm, “You got this!” He whispered to you with a smile, “You can do it, Y/N.”

You gave him a wink and a small smile before he left. You then turned to the DJ, who had a direct view of you from the outside, and nodded at him to which he returned and went to work.

Finally—

The music played.

A mysterious and sultry tune that resonated throughout the club as the lights turned down low. Slowly, you make your way up the steps and then onto the stage.

Instantly—the atmosphere felt electric.

Once your silhouette was spotted, loud hollering and whistling from men commenced. They wasted no time in throwing money like confetti, hungry gazes waiting impatiently for you.

Then it hits—

A golden glow spotlight that shined heavenly on you in synchronicity of your movements, making you the sole person of attention.

Every single step you took towards the pole was a calculated step to captivate everyone in the room.

You let your hips sway to the rhythm of the song, reaching out to wrap your hand in the pole. Your body quickly curves and twists in fluidity and sensual motions.

Slow and deliberately spinning to which you arched your body—commanding the room without a single word.

You then turned your head to the side, smiling at the men as they erupted with loud cheers. The bright neon lights made your body glitter shimmer as you gently landed on your knees.

You crawled to the edge of the stage where eager hands clutched bills. Men desperately waving it in your face—signaling you to go to them.

With practiced ease, you smiled at one of the shy ones. You beckoned him to come closer, watching him gulp in nervousness as his shaky hands reached out to give you his money.

You let out a small laugh at his actions. You got closer and grabbed his hand—guiding his trembling hands to slip a bill into the strap of your bra while “confident” hands found the curve of your hips—tucking cash into the waistband of your barely there lingerie.

You kept your composure, maintaining that sultry smirk—remaining in control, but inside your stomach twisted in horror.

Their fingertips would linger too long as their gazes stripped away your clothes. ‘Ugh’, disgust coils deep within your chest, but you don’t flinch.

You don't let it show.

Instead, you arched your back—letting their fantasies run wild.

You just kept selling the illusion they crave as you internally wish to scrub every trace of their touch from your skin.

But—

Your focus wasn’t on them—

Not tonight.

In perfect sync with the sultry rhythm of the song, you turned your head towards the vip section—a section that was far away from the sweaty hands and greedy gazes.

Perched in the dimly glowed of the private lounge sat him. The man Jae would not shut up about.

Jeong Yunho.

Wow—

Is that him?

You could feel your breath hitch for a second.

There was no denying that this man was dangerously handsome.

Just one look and you can tell the power he held.

That tailored suit not only reeked of expensive, but—the way it looked like it belonged to him. Molding to every sharp line of his body like it had been made with only him in mind.

The way his broad shoulders displayed, long legs spread in a way that screamed power and ease. One arm draped over the back of the leather couch, his fingers lazily tapping against the rim of the glass while the other rested on his thigh—just a few inches away from the women clinging to him.

Despite the desperate attempts for his attention from the women, his eyes were elsewhere—

On you.

His gaze was dark—unreadable—piercing in a way that, suddenly, the air around you got heavier—hotter.

His lips, slightly, curled into something in between amusement and intrigued.

It’s almost as if he was already three steps ahead of you.

You crawled to the center edge of the stage—right in front of his view in a controlled feline motion. Your hips sway to the slow, hypnotic beat as you feel the music pulse throughout your body.

You take this moment to take in his surroundings.

Men—standing stationed all around him, even on the steps that lead up to the VIP section. Silent but watchful.

Yet—

He simply sat there. Completely unbothered, as if he knew nothing could touch him.

As if he owned the room. And—maybe he did.

Heat shot up your spine as you met his gaze. You slide off the stage with each sway of your hips being a calculated promise. The front of your heels hit the edge of the bottom of the steps—still keeping that eye contact locked on one another.

Then—

Like a predator closing in on its prey—

You dropped to your hands and knees, feeling the velvet material of the stairs below them.

In this moment, it’s like the crowd disappeared—no longer mattering. Everything fades as his eyes are the only thing that fills your vision.

The world shifts. Music slows.

Suddenly, there is only you and him.

Your feline–like movements were slow and deliberate. Every crawl forward was a tease—an invitation wrapped in pure seduction.

That smirk on his lips remained. But his eyes darkened with something almost… feral. He raised the glass to his lips, never breaking that contact with you.

The women around him, who were desperately clinging onto him, shot you judgmental glares. You watched as their eyes burned with jealousy as they pressed their bodies closer to him.

But you don’t care.

You are here to do your job.

That’s it.

But they just kept on. They whispered vile things about you. Laughed at you. You couldn’t make out what they were saying in specific, but with the way they exchanged looks with eyes of venom—you knew enough.

But then—

He raises his hand.

A single powerful gesture and the chatter—

Stops.

They fucking froze in their words. You watched as they stiffened up as his eyes flickered to them with an icy glare. The girls looked down to the floor, feeling upset that they got him angry.

But with a wave of his hand, he silently orders them to leave.

They tried to protest but he gave them a look. A look that held many words. They let out an annoyed scoff as they get up—heels sharply clicking against the floor as they retreat to the shadows, arms crossing and hips jutting out with attitude as they glared at you.

Within perfect timing, you reached the top. You remained kneeling down before him—your pulse racing. You felt like his presence was a magnetic force that pulled you closer without even doing anything.

Your eyes flickered to the top floor. For a split second chills were sent down your spine—Jae standing there with arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

Reality hits you.

‘Don’t make me regret it’ his voice rang in your head. You take a slow, controlled inhale through your nose and gently exhale—controlling yourself.

You began by gliding your hands up his thighs—teasingly slow—until they rested on his hard muscles beneath the fabric of his suit.

You can feel the heat radiating off of him underneath you as you move up, sliding onto his lap with the grace of a predator claiming its prize.

Your hands run up his chest, leaning in just enough to let that tension build. Your breath warm against his ear, “Are you enjoying the show?”

He inhales your alluring perfume. His voice was low and smooth—sending shivers straight down your spine, coating your skin in goosebumps, “Immensely.”

Shit.

You can’t help the smirk that curves your lips as you lean back, grinding your hips just enough to draw a breath from him. You placed a finger under his chin—running your thumb on his lower lip.

The room around you seems to blur. The thumping of your heart matches the beat of the music as you continue to tease him with each controlled movement.

From your peripheral, you see his hands sliding towards your waist but—

Before they can reach you, you look at him with a challenge flashing in your gaze, “No touching,” you purr out, your voice dripping in mischief as you slide off him, caressing his face with your fingertips as you stand up. “Not tonight.” You winked at him.

You lingers there, a few inches away, your gazes locking for one last breath—a stealing second.

And then—

The shift happens.

Something dangerous flashed behind his eyes. That smirk curled into a scoffed out smile. Behind that smile there was something deeper, almost sinister.

You have no idea what you have done.

What you have started.

But you’re already turning away.

Your body swaying with each step as you head down the steps. You smiled at the men who stood at the bottom of the steps, shoving money in your face, happily taking them as you headed up the steps with the help of the club’s security.

You left him behind, craving for you again.

You returned to the spotlight, music sweeping to match the energy surging through your veins. The cheers grew louder as you finished your routine—bills raining down, more than you’ve ever seen in one night.

From the distance, Jae smirks as he flickered his eyes between you and Yunho—a look of satisfaction. Yunho can’t keep his eyes off of you like a hungry predator watching its prey.

You lit a fire within him.

You then vanished behind the curtains. Unaware of the chaos you left behind.

—

The crowd has since scattered, leaving behind drinks and empty bottles on tables. Chairs all over the place, thrown or fallen, with bills scattered on the floor and stage.

To say you were exhausted was an understatement.

You stood on the stage, eyes looking at the bills that had yet to be collected and sighed. You took off your heels and just dropped them behind you, then you tightened the strings of the silk robe and crouched down on the stage.

You gathered the money in a bunch and started collecting them—straightening them out before folding a good amount and wrapping a rubber band around it.

You’ll count it later.

Right now, you just just want to go home and boil the night off and sleep.

The laughter and chatter from your coworkers with their clients was a background hum to your own thoughts. Enjoying this calmness.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice the shadow at first. Not until the overhead lights dimmed slightly, casting a silhouette over you.

“Impressive performance,” a deep, velvety voice drawled.

You froze.

That voice.

Slowly, you lifted your eyes up to the voice. Your breath hitched when your eyes locked onto his. The gleam in his eyes was something unreadable, “May I?” He asked as he extended his hand out for you, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Your eyes flickered to his hand. You gnawed on your inner lower lip as you looked around the area. His men standing around you two, the same women from earlier with crossed arms with annoyance written on their face but most importantly—

No Jae.

You looked back at his face to which he tilted to the side, as if saying ‘well?’ Slowly, you reached out and grasped his hand, noting the rough patches on it as you stood up.

He steps to the side and helps you down the stairs with ease—as if this is the most natural thing in the world.

“Thank you.” You told him gently as you stood in front of him. He smiles and slowly releases his hand from yours, reaching into his inner pocket of the suit.

“This,” he takes out a thick stack of cash, neatly stacked with a white paper band wrapped around it, “is for making my first visit… worthwhile.”

Your lips slightly parted in shock as your eyes widened at the sight of the money. He just took that money out as if it was nothing but pocket change to him.

You felt conflicted.

“I–“ You couldn’t speak.

Your eyes flickered between the money and his face—you were hesitant.

What if this is a test? Should you even take his money? Was the deal completed? What would Jae say—?

“Take it.” His voice was softer, taking you out of your thoughts. He noticed your hesitation, his smirking slowly fading. “It’s not a gift—it’s recognition.”

You swallowed hard. You still felt reluctant at the offer but eventually, you slowly reached out, brushing his fingers with you as you took the money.

You gave him a small smile, “Thank you.” You tell him, keeping your tone neutral. “It’s very generous of you.”

“Of course.” He said with a faint smirk.

There was a pause between you two.

You slightly shifted under his gaze, feeling like you’re about to suffocate. “Um, so,” you say softly, “Thank you for coming tonight. We hope it was up to your expectations.”

You gave him another small smile and went to turn around but—

“Wait,” He said, grabbing your arm with the most gentle touch you have ever felt. You looked at his hand and then back at him, eyes slightly widened. “May I have your name?” He asked with a smile.

You could feel your heart skipping a beat—something you’ll bitch at yourself for later tonight. “I think that…” you turned to face him and gave him a coy smile that didn’t reach up to your eyes, “you and I both know I can’t give that to you.”

Now, it’s not that you were hiding. You would gladly give him your name except—

It was about protecting yourself from Jae. It felt like he owned your own name. Jae was very keen on keeping you all to himself—not even wanting to let others breathe your air.

You can see his face slightly drop but kept smiling. “But,” you stepped closer fingertips lightly brushing against his chest, trailing down the smooth fabric of his suit until it hovered just above the top of his belt, “it was lovely meeting you… Mr. Jeong.” You murmured as you looked up at him with your lips curling into a teasing smile.

But before you could take a step back, his hand caught yours, once more, “Something tells me this won’t be the last time I’ll be seeing you.” He said in a low voice, laced with certainty.

His eyes bore into yours, a smirk on his lips.

You let out a small scoff as the smile remained on your lips. You then slipped your hand out of his grasp, turning on your heels as you walked to the curtains.

His eyes stayed fixed on you until you disappeared—not bothering to glance back at him. He stayed there for a moment. The ghost of your touch lingered in his hand.

No one has ever made him feel so intrigued like how you have. Especially in such a short time like this. Yes, he has gotten dances before but something about you… he can’t pinpoint it.

“Who are you?” He murmured to himself.

He then straightened up, “Her name,” his voice low and sharp. “Find it.”

You won’t give it? Okay.

He will just find it first.

One of his men stepped forward, nodding once before disappearing.

Soon another one stepped forward, “Sir, the car is ready.”

He didn’t move at first, keeping his gaze on the curtain—wanting to open it and find you. He adjusted his cuffs on his suit sleeve and nodded, “Very well. Let’s go.” He turned around and headed to the entrance of the club.

His girls quickly dropped the sour faces and giggled as he propped his arms out to the side, causing them to hug his sides as they walked to the door. He glanced down at them with a mischievous smile as they whispered something to him.

Behind the curtain, you watched him the entire time between the narrow slits, feeling your heart race as you watched him leave. You stood up straight and let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

You took a few steps back and leaned against the wall. You then felt the stack of money in your hand, making you look down at it—fingers curling around it.

“Men,” you said in a whisper—bitterly, “They really do have it all, don’t they?” Your lips curl into a humorless smile.

—

It had been a week since that night.

A week since you disappeared behind the curtain, leaving Yunho behind—drowning in curiosity and intrigue.

But no need to worry, he sure as fuck did not forget you. Not the way you were perched up on him. Not the look in your eyes. Nor the delicacy in your touch. The way you said his name.

Safe to say, your performance—or rather, you—really sealed the deal with Yunho. Which is exactly why he was back tonight.

Partly to finish some business with Jae. But most importantly… in hopes that he is able to see you—even if it’s just a glimpse.

The lights were dimmed slightly in Jae’s office, casting a soft glow within the room. The air was filled with strong scents of expensive cigars and champagne with the music vibrating throughout the space.

Laughter echoed within the circle as Jae clicked his glass with Yunho’s—some liquor spilling out from the action. Jae leaned back into the sofa with legs spread comfortably apart, taking a huge gulp.

He sighed in satisfaction as he looked at Yunho. “Your terms are fair, Yunho.” He said with a grin. He then sits up straight with a devilish smile, “You won’t find a better deal elsewhere. Trust me.” His fingers lazily twirled the glass.

Yunho smirked as he placed his drink down onto the table, “Then we understand each other.” He said with his eyes glinting. “That’s all I need.”

Jae—a man who wants more and more. More reach, control, and power. But, in order for that to happen he needs Yunho—the man with the keys in his hands. He had the contracts, network, and the leverage.

And just like that—

The deal was sealed. Two men gaining more power and money. And to celebrate—?

Immediately, several girls came dressed in lingerie into the office—their eyes locking onto the scattered men in the room, picking who they wanted quickly. Jae gives two girls a glint of approval with his eyes as they sit next to him—all the girls settle in beside the men, laughter blending into the atmosphere.

Yunho looks at the girls who draped their legs over his. Watching how they quickly went to work when one girl slowly undid the top of his buttoned up shirt, caressing his exposed skin while the other rubbed his arm.

His expression was unreadable at the sight of them. “They seem to follow your lead without question.” Yunho said smoothly—calculated. He flickered his gaze to Jae, “Is that loyalty or… good training?”

Jae lifts his eyebrow when he flickered his eyes to Yunho, the corner of his mouth twitching, “Well, you know how it is,” He smirks.

Actually, Yunho didn't, but proceeded with your stupidity.

“Loyalty isn’t given. It’s bought. Broken. And rebuilt.” He looks at the girl wrapped in his arms, smiling, “Ain’t that right, baby?”

Yunho watched as Jae kissed the girl’s neck, making her laugh—a little too high. A little too fake. Yunho saw the way the girl tensed up her shoulders, how she looked at the floor, dead inside, before laughing in fear.

Then Jae gets a thought.

He looks at Yunho, removing himself from the girl’s neck. “Why?” He smirked, “Did someone catch your eye?”

“Well,” Yunho said in a low voice. “It’s hard to ignore someone who doesn’t want to be seen.” He reaches down for his drink and takes a sip.

Jae furrowed his eyebrows, trying to understand who it was that he was speaking about. Then his eyes light up, snapping his finger when it hits him—

“You must be talking about, Y/N.” He lets out a small laugh.

He didn’t flinch.

He already knew your name.

The same night he sent his men to find it, he got it. Took a little bribing but nothing a few dollar bills couldn’t fix. The girls talked—eventually—made the men swear they won’t even breathe a word about this to Jae.

Yunho leaned back in quiet satisfaction, letting your name settle in his mind. He didn’t answer back at Jae, but that’s all Jae needed to know.

“Do you…” Jae paused. Something dark flickered in his eyes. “Want to meet her?” He asked casually—too casually.

But his tone said otherwise. It’s as if he was going to show off his most prized possession. Telling Yunho subliminally that you belonged to Jae.

Yunho stayed silent.

Didn't blink.

He remained leaning back, the corner of his mouth barely twitching as his eyes locked with Jae's— unreadable but speaking volumes.

A slow, knowing smile slowly crept on Jae’s lips. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, keeping his eye contact with Yunho. Instantly, one of his men appeared with readiness as he leaned down to Jae’s level, “Go get her.” Voice was low and smooth as he whispered.

The man gave a curt nod, "Yes sir." And with that he slipped away.

Jae downed his drink, placing it on the glass table in front of him. “I figured you would want a closer look.” Jae said. “Eventually.” His smirk widening just enough.

Yunho gave him a faint smirk back, remaining silent.

This game just started.

—

Finally, the night was over.

Fuck.

The music faded, stage lights dimmed, and the noise from the crowd was nothing but an echo behind you as you stepped off the stage.

You thanked the security who handed you your robe and quickly slipped it on as you made your way to the dressing room, exhaling after a long day of work.

You shut the door and instantly, your body ached with exhaustion. You made your way to your chair and just dropped onto it. You sighed in relief as you kicked off your heels—flexing your sore feet, moving them in circular motions to get the circulation flow back with a slight tingling fire feeling.

You leaned back in your chair, throwing your head back as you closed your eyes for a moment. ‘Home’. It was all you can think about right now. You couldn’t wait to get out of this heavy makeup with this outfit that makes you feel like your boobs are pushed up to your ears.

Slowly, you get up, winching in pain as your joints burn, limping slightly at the ache in your legs. You rolled your shoulders back, moving your head side to side as you took off your robe.

You started to gather your things off the counter until—

A sudden knock on the dressing room door snapped you back into reality as you jolted. “Y/N?” Your body tensed up when you heard your name, muffled.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, eyes shooting to the door, “Boss wants to see you.”

Oh, fuck no.

You closed your eyes as your jaw tightened. You exhaled a sigh of frustration through your nose. And just like that, the ache in your body was instantly forgotten—replaced by the heaviness settling in your chest—anger in your body.

You walked to the door and opened it with an attitude, “Can you tell him that I—“

“You’re coming.” He cuts you off, words feeling like a slap in the face. “Now.”

You glared into his emotionless face. You wanted to scream but you stayed silent. You turned around, putting on those dreaded heels back on. Once you finished, you stood up and closed your eyes one last time to enjoy the final peace you had.

You turned back to the guard, who didn’t even say a single word. You glared at him and he nodded, stepping to the side, waiting for you to follow him.

And you did just that.

The small peace you had was completely snatched from you.

—

Every step that led to him was a step you dreaded. This walk to his office felt longer than usual for some reason tonight. Maybe because you were just tired and wanted this night to be over.

Or because you hated him and didn’t want to see Jae.

Finally, you arrived at the door. You inhaled and exhaled, getting mentally ready for whatever bullshit Jae had in store. You nodded at the guy and he opened the door for you, his hand gesturing to go inside, “He is waiting for you.” He tells you.

You straighten your posture and take your first step inside and—

“Ah,” you heard Jae’s voice, “there she is!” You looked and saw Jae giving you the most wicked smile ever. He goes around the sofa and takes your hands, “my beautiful Y/N.” He plants kisses on them.

Before you could even gather your bearings—Jae grabbed your wrist and pulled you with him to the couch. He then pulls you down to his lap with a sharp tug. His hand immediately slid possessively across your waist and onto your backside, squeezing roughly.

You could barely suppress the flinch as the familiar disgust was threatening to show on your face, but you quickly pushed it down—giving a tight smile.

You looked across from you and froze.

How did you not see him? Maybe that’s why Jae was acting the way he was with you at first.

Yunho was watching you intently. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied your body language. His gaze flickered to Jae’s hand on your waist—his expression was unreadable but the slight crease of his brow didn’t go unnoticed by you.

Jae chuckled, “Beautiful, isn’t she?” He said as he admires—if you can even call it that—you. “She’s shy at first but—once she knows her place, she is perfect.”

Yunho gives you a faint smile, “Beautiful,” he echoed, bringing his drink to his lips, “you got that part right.”

Your breath hitched—just barely.

Did you hear that correctly?

No—

No.

Last time you fell for a man’s words, you ended up in this bullshit.

This man is just as dangerous as Jae—if not, more.

Don’t be stupid.

“Pour me a drink, darling.” Jae said, snapping you out of your thoughts. Just like that, back to being a machine. He leaned back, arms resting on the edge of the couch.

You nodded as you leaned forward, grabbing the mini tongs. You placed three ice cubes into Jae’s cup—

“She’s a good girl, don’t you think?” He said caressing your back. You wanted to throw up from his touch as you poured his drink into the glass. “Knows how to listen. Knows when to stay quiet—that’s rare these days.” He said, looking at Yunho with a smirk.

You sat up and handed him his drink, watching how he smiled at you as he said a small thank you. Ugh, asshole. You wanted to throw the drink in his face and slap him right across.

During the interaction, you felt Yunho’s eyes on you. “Quiet doesn’t always mean obedience.” He said in a low, calm voice—an undercurrent tone you couldn’t pinpoint.

Your heart raced just a little faster at his response. Jae chuckled as he caressed your thigh. “Spoken like a man who’s never trained anyone.”

Trained.

That word sat heavy in your chest. You tried to keep your face neutral as you flickered your gaze to the glass Jae kept in his hand—waiting for this moment to be over quickly.

“Spoken like a man who’s afraid of what happens when they think for themselves.” Yunho answers back as he finishes his drink, placing it on the table as he stares down Jae.

His words ran a fucking shiver down your spine—fighting to not look at him.

Jae shifted beneath you—you can tell these words affected him. “Control is not fear.” He said smoothly. “It’s all about consistency. My girl knows that I’ve got her.” He smirks, “Therefore, she does not need to question anything. Right, baby?” He looks at you with a smile.

But before you could say anything—

“Or maybe she knows what happens when she does.” His words cut through the silence like a knife.

Your heart stops as you slowly look at Yunho.

No one has ever spoken to Jae like that.

Jae’s voice dipped into something darker, a grin still on his face. “Are you trying to say something, Yunho?”

Yunho slightly shook his head. “I’m just observing.” He said calmly. His eyes lingered on you as if it held you in place.

You knew the look in his eyes—the type of man who commands with just a glance. This only confirms how dangerous Yunho was and you do not want to fuck with that.

But—

You can’t help it. Something about him was tugging you towards him.

Was it…

The way he looked at you? The way he saw the cracks through the mask? The way he made you feel human, even if it was just for a second?

I mean—You don’t even know man. Yet, slowly, he has undone some of your walls… just with words.

Wait—

Stop—

This was reckless.

You have to stop it.

You know better than to want answers. Curiosity in this world gets people killed.

—

It was later in the night.

Yunho was sitting in the back of the car with one arm slung casually along the seat—the window cracked open as the smoke from his cigar disappeared into the night air.

His driver was silent—ready for any command.

But Yunho—

He was busy.

He was watching you.

There you were. Standing outside with Jae—who had two of his men standing behind him. You were at the back of the club, away from curious eyes. Your coat was wrapped tightly around you, shielding you from the cold night.

You adjusted your purse strap on your shoulder and then crossed your arms, looking away from Jae with attitude.

Jae had stepped closer to you—the argument was escalating as you looked back at him and scoffed at whatever he said, shaking your head at him in disbelief.

Jae just looked away from you, smoking his cigarette as he waited for you to comply with what he asked of you. You glared at him with fury in your eyes as you opened your purse, grabbing the stacks of cash and shoving it to his chest.

Jae stumbled back slightly—taken aback by your actions as he looked down at the money on the floor. He exhaled through his mouth as closed his eyes, letting out a scoff. He smirked as he looked back up at you, face written with anger.

“What do we have here?” Yunho murmured to himself as he tilted his head slightly in curiosity—the tip of his cigarette glowed a faint red as he took a drag, casting a brief flicker of light across his face.

“Sir?” The driver asked, looking through the mirror. But Yunho stayed silent, just keeping his eyes on you.

You then proceeded to tell Jae something that just sets him off, talking back at you in anger. You roll your eyes at his stupidity. Done with his bullshit, you turned around—

But—

Then it happened.

Jae’s hand shoots out and grabs your face, roughly and controlling as he leaned in, yelling something directly in your face. Yunho can faintly hear you yelling at Jae to let you go as you try removing his hands off of you.

There was a lot of back and forth yelling but eventually—

He let go.

Your chest was heaving as you looked at him with fear and anger all mixed up. You adjusted your purse and turned around to walk away—fast. But Jae tsks as he dropped his cigarette to the floor and rushed to you but only this time—

It’s gentle.

He caught up to you and turned you around, softly. You closed your eyes as he caressed your face, him apologizing for his actions. But you aren’t falling for his antics.

You completely tensed up as you looked away, removing his hand from your face as your lips curled in disgust from his touch. He caresses your hair and leans down, whispering something in your ear causing you to freeze and look up at him.

He steps back and walks to his car, opening up the backseat door for you. He gestures for you to enter as he gives you a smile. Yunho can see your hesitation.

He sees the way your eyes linger on the car before you slowly make your way to the car, stopping once more but eventually, you climb into the car. Jae then follows suit but before closing the door he orders one of his men to pick up the money.

Yunho flicked the cigarette out the window, little flicks of ember spark upon contact to the floor. Interesting, he thought.

“Let’s go.” Yunho told his driver.

And with that they took off, leaving Yunho curious of what just went down.

—

It’s been a few weeks and Yunho has now become a permanent fixture within the club. But of course, it was bound to happen now they are partners.

It just means he isn’t going anywhere.

You saw him more often than you wanted to.

He never once did anything to make you feel uncomfortable but—you won’t deny the feeling that occurs within you when you two lock eyes.

You don’t know what it is. It’s unspoken—unnamed. But it weighed very heavy every time.

The club was darker tonight. A spotlight on you as you performed. The music was sultry, dangerous—enough to make the men holler for you as you gave them your captivating smile.

Off in the distance, Jae leaned back against the leather of the booth with a lazy smirk on his face, “She is something, isn’t she?” He said in awe of you as he watched you dance.

Yunho just hummed in response.

He leaned forward as his elbows rested on his knees, glass dangling from loose fingertips. His eyes followed your movements, feeling like he was in a trance.

He then looks down to the floor and ponders hard before asking, “What is she to you?” His voice was quiet yet it sliced through the noise.

Jae didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, there was a pause. Both men looked at you in admiration—well, one did. The other looked at you as a money making machine.

“She is everything to me.” Jae said in a serious tone, downing his drink, letting out a satisfied sigh.

He then sits up with a face full of smugness. He places his cup on the table, opening up the bottle of liquor, “She is the best thing I ever invested in.”

Thing.

Asshole, Yunho thought as he let out a small scoff that went unnoticed.

Yunho looked at him with an eyebrow raised, “Invested?”

Jae chuckled, tipping his glass towards the stage in faulty delight. “Found her working at a shitty diner. She was the most beautiful girl I have ever seen…” He said as he zoned out, daydreaming about when he first saw you.

All bright smiles. Now they are all gone.

“Well,” Jae said, clearing his throat, snapping out of it. “I made her an offer, one where she can make real money—to live a little, ya’know?”

He then leans closer to Yunho, lowering his voice, “But, let’s just say, she signed the contract without reading the fine print.” He lets out a cackle as he shoves Yunho as if he just said the funniest joke ever.

“Ahhh,” he sighed happily, in a daze. “Now, she belongs to me.”

Let me tell you, if looks could kill—

Jae would’ve been dead.

Yunho’s stare had darkened but his face just remained cold—expressionless. He can’t believe someone would do something so fucking cruel to a person who was just trying to survive.

“Hey,” Jae said as he tapped his arm, “do you want a closer look?” He offered you. He then places a hand on his own chest, “It’ll be my personal gift to you.” He smiles at him.

He then gets serious, “But,” he warned, “don’t get attached.” He said in a low tone. They just stared at each other before Jae bursted out into laughter making Yunho smirk back at him.

Yunho looked away from Jae and watched you finish your dance. Jae didn’t bother for a response as two girls approached him and easily got distracted. Idiot, as always.

When you finished your set, your eyes roamed the crowd—the room. You caught Yunho’s eyes already looking at you and it felt as if time slowed down for the both of you.

But reality came striking in as the lights turned off—snapping you right back into the moment as you disappeared behind the curtains.

Yunho just kept his gaze on you.

Little by little, things were starting to make sense to him.

—

After the performance, the club was winding down. Once again, as always, right when you’re about to leave—

Jae.

Of course.

But this time, it’s slightly good news?

You stood off at the side of the bar, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you stood in your silk robe. Jae was completely leaned into your space—mouth near your ear, smiling as he spoke to you.

Completely blinded that he didn’t notice your face was carved out in flat annoyance as you stared into an empty space—wondering when the fuck this conversation was over.

From the shadows, way up near Jae’s office, Yunho had the perfect view. He saw the way Jae cupped your face, caressing it with his thumbs as if you were something so delicate he wanted to take care of.

Right.

He saw how you removed his hand with a sharp flick of your wrist—careful to not draw attention from your coworkers. Jae’s smile faltered for half a second before snapping back into his cruel self.

He closed his hand around your arm, fingers digging into it as he guided you around the corner where the noise of the club thinned out, swallowed by the heavy walls.

He leaned in, voice low. “I’m leaving the city for a bit.” He said as he brushed a stray hair from your face.

Oh?

“Business things, you wouldn’t understand.” He said condescendingly, making you exhale deeply. “You see, there are some things I have to finish now that Yunho is onboard with us.”

You stayed still.

Silent.

Jae’s mouth curled into a smirk. His hand lifted your chin to face him, “And since I’m leaving, I’m trusting you with a little responsibility, mmh?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “What is it?”

His hands slide around your waist, bring you close to him as he sways you two a little bit. “Take care of our new partner, yeah? I want you to show him why we are the best in the business.”

Your stomach twisted.

“But,” his eyes darkened. “Don’t get any fucking ideas. Do you understand me?”

You nodded as you swallowed down your nerves. “Good.” He said smiling. “I don’t know when I’ll be back but—“

He leans in slightly.

“Don’t give me a reason to come back early, alright?” He then gives you a patronizing little tap under your chin before walking off, leaving you standing there.

Yunho watches as you stand there, letting Jae’s words sink in your mind.

Slowly, he starts to back up into the shadows—disappearing just in time as you flickered your gaze up to the third floor where Jae’s office was, feeling someone looking at you.

But no one was there.

—

Jae has been gone for some time now and quite frankly it has been… peaceful.

Everything seems to flow with ease now. The club seems vibrant with good energy. The girls seemed happier and actually laughed more. Security seemed relaxed, less tense than normal—everything just seemed lighter.

As if everyone can breathe.

Why is that, you may ask?

Yunho was the complete opposite of Jae.

He earned the respect of people without raising his voice or barking out orders.

And the girls? Well, they noticed it.

They laughed more when he was around, joked with him in between sets—hell, even the newest ones felt safe enough to talk to him about issues they had. Something no one ever bothered doing with Jae.

It’s like he was always surrounded by them. Comfortable enough to drape themselves over him, flock to him, hooking arms around his shoulder or arms as they whispered things into his ears that made them giggle in the process.

They craved his attention—his gentle touch. A small piece of him. But it was understandable—we never had this type of figure in our lives at the club—it’s almost as if he was something the club itself was missing.

And you would see how he would let them.

Let them play their games. Pour his drinks. Caress his whole body.

You also saw how he would lean in, whispering sweet nothings to them making them turn shy under his stare. How the girls would send glances at each other before standing up, grabbing his hand as they tugged him to one of the many private rooms—where fantasies would roam.

But—

You maintained your distance.

You’re not falling for his antics—his bullshit. I mean, let’s focus on the facts here; he’s just like Jae.

You tell yourself, ‘look away, it's not worth it.’

But—

Something always pulls you back.

You did look

Every time.

Every night, he would run off and disappear with different girls.

You had no clue what the hell would happen behind the closed doors but with the way they came out with makeup smudged, faces flushed, giddy as they adjusted their clothes, and fixing their hair said enough.

And Yunho? Untouched.

And yet—

No matter how much you try to avoid him, despite Jae's orders, he somehow manages to find your eyes through the crowd—every single time.

It never fails to make your heart race or breath hitch.

Like take tonight for example—

Finally, you finished your set and you just wanted to count your money and go. You were behind the bar, stacking up your cash tips into neat piles but your hands were trembling slightly.

Your fingers would fumble when you looked up to grab a glance—wanting to know if he was still looking.

And he was.

He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, his stare was unreal to relentless. Feeling conflicted and frustrated with how easily you let him affect you—

You dropped your money and sighed, leaning on the counter as you closed your eyes, exhaling. You ended up gathering your money in one pile and decided to just count it in the dressing room—what you should’ve done in the first place.

You gave him one last look—slight annoyance written on to which he returned with a small smirk as you disappeared into the dressing room.

His stare felt like it whispered, I’ll see you. Soon.

—

The following night, you were in the dressing room with the rest of the girls—shift change.

But not for you, you have been here the whole day.

Some girls were wiping off their makeup and talking out loud about some handsy, cheap men, gaining some laughs from some girls as they made jokes over it. Some focused on getting dressed as they prepared for the night.

You sat at your vanity, tugging your zipper open on your makeup bag, grabbing your setting spray. You softly chuckled at the ongoing conversations from the girls as you took off the cap from the bottle and sprayed your face, waving your hand to help the skin soak in the liquid.

Once that was settled, you adjusted the straps of your outfit back onto your shoulder—hands moving on autopilot to adjust, tighten, apply.

Just as you were about to take off your heels to let your feet breathe for a second—“Hey,” your coworker leaned around the corner of your mirror, “You’re booked. Private dance. Room 11.” She said lazily chewing gum, voice casual.

You let her words sink in as you felt your sore body crying, complaining at her words. You exhaled slowly through your nose as you nodded at her words, giving her a forced smile, “Got it.”

She flashed you a wink and disappeared around the corner. You sat there for a second longer, staring at your reflection. You mentally tell yourself ‘you can do it’ as you get up, roll your shoulders and head out the room with some girls telling you good luck as you give them a small smile.

—

You approached room 11 and stopped in front of it. You gave your body a little shaky to wake yourself up and exhale once. You steadied your hand into a fist, knocking twice.

“Come in.”

You turned the knob and pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit private room. The heavy door thudded close behind you, muting the club's music into a dull vibration against the wall.

Oh my god—

There he was.

Yunho.

His legs were crossed at the knee—an arm draped lazily along the back of the chair while the other rested on the curve of his thigh with a glass of dark liquor dangling loose in his grasp.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t speak.

He just watched you through the huge mirror in front of him. A slow smirk curved his lips while you two stared at one another.

Internally, you were scared—shitless. You wanted to turn around and leave but Jae’s words haunted you. You had no time to slack off—

You leaned casually against the door frame, “Mr. Jeong,” a sweet, coy smile appeared on your face. “What can I do for you?” You purred, voice like honey.

His smile only widened—darkly. You pushed yourself off the door, ignoring the way your heart raced as your heels softly clicked towards him—walking around the room.

A predator's arc.

You let your finger trail lightly across the back of the leather sofa behind him until you stood directly behind him. Your hands slide down his chest, palms ghosting over his broad shoulders—all light and teasing.

You lowered your head slightly, just enough for him to feel the whispers of your breath against his skin. “You know,” you murmured, voice dropping to a sultry tone. “I was wondering when you were going to come to me.”

You felt the way his body tensed but barely. It was controlled within seconds.

Finally—

After what felt like forever—

He spoke. “I want you tonight.” His voice was low and smooth—unrushed. “Just for me.”

“All to myself.” He smirked. You felt the floor crumbling under your feet just by his words.

He tilted his head up just enough to glance at you over his shoulder. “You understand me,” he said as he caught your eyes. “Don’t you, Y/N?”

Hearing your name come from his mouth made your knees slightly buckle.

The room felt smaller now—hotter even. You felt your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

“I understand.”

You smiled at him as your hands moved around the chair, humans saying with a practiced roll. You deliberately dragged your fingertips across his chest as you circled him and stood in front of him.

You hooked your finger under his chin and made him look up at you, “So…” you whispered, voice dipping into something dark—intimate. “What are you willing to do to get what you want?”

He said in full confidence, “Anything.”

That smirk remained on your face, “Anything?” You repeated as you tilted your head. He nods once at you.

“Mm.” You hummed in amusement as you let go of his face, taking a step back. The way his legs spread out just enough seemed to invite you in—but not enough to beg.

His eyes burned into your figure, waiting for your next move. You turned around and walked to the speaker—purposely leaning down to press the button of the speaker, showcasing your curves.

He lets out a quiet chuckle at your action, taking a sip of his drink before placing it off to the side.

And just like that—

The music played.

You walked to the center of the room, sliding down to your knees—maintaining that eye contact with him. You slowly crawled on all fours to him until you were between his legs. Your hands gently caressed his strong thighs—

Moving them up and down a few times before you use his thighs to help yourself up—your hands finding the hard plane of his chest, giving him a push.

He lets you force him back deeper into the chair with a soft thud, smirk flickering at the edges. You swung one leg over him, straddling his lap with a slow roll of your hips that barely skimmed his—just enough for him to feel the unbearable heat trapped between your thighs.

You settled on him deliberately, your weight feather–light—teasing as your thighs squeezed around his hips.

You leaned in, mouth brushing against the shell of his ear, letting your breath ghost over his skin until you felt the sharp inhale he tried to hide.

Here goes nothing.

“Tell me you’re mine, Mr. Jeong,” you murmured to him—voice dipped in velvet sin. You rolled your hips—slow.

Controlled.

You felt him slightly tensed at your actions causing you to look back at his face. Your fingers reached up to his hair—just enough to make him obey.

“But look at me when you say it.”

His breath hitched—fuck.

We are just getting started and he already feels in heaven with you.

“Yours–” His voice was low and strained, distracted by your slow grinding. “I’m yours.”

You smirked at him as you tugged his head back, just enough to expose his neck. Your fingertips traced from the tip of his chin down to his chest—barely a touch.

He bit his lower lip in delight—hands twitching at his sides, aching to touch you but you moved faster than he could—

“Oh,” you scolded, voice teasing, ”Mr. Jeong. Keep those hands to yourself.” You smirked at him as you grabbed his face gently, bringing his head to eye level with yours. “Wouldn’t want to get in trouble.”

Although you held that smile—inside, your walls were still up.

This was just a fantasy—a role you were just playing. And this man did not belong in your reality.

His lips parted slightly—a low growl rumbling deep from within his chest. You silenced him with a single finger pressed against his mouth, “shh,” you whispered, giving him a faint smile—just enough to keep in control of the moment. “Don’t worry. You’ll get a taste… eventually..”

Your eyes darkened as you removed your finger from his lips, using that same hand to drag it down your body. Over the swell of your breasts. Down the curve of your waist. Moving with a slow, deliberate arch of your back that made your core pulse with need as you grind shading him again.

Instinctively, his hand shot up—desperate to feel you more. But you smacked it away with a sharp crack against his wrist—the noise cuts through the room, making his jaw flex harder.

You grabbed his face firmly with one hand, forcing him to look at you. “I said no touching.” You warned him, your tone in pure dominance.

His breath caught in his throat as your grip tightened on his jaw. There was a pause between you two as his eyes flickered between yours.

Until—

“That look in your eyes,” his tone was deadly, “I know you only get like that with me.”

You paused at his words. Your brain short circuits for a second—

But you’re quick with words.

You let out a small laugh, leaning as your mouth hovers over him, your eyes narrowing with the faintest smirk on your lips. “You must think you’re special.”

You let the words hang there, your lips inches from his. Then you pulled back, in control of the moment. “Don’t mistake the fantasy for something real, Mr. Jeong.”

You won’t fall for his charms.

His voice.

His eyes.

You won’t fall for his act.

He’s just like Jae.

You won’t be stupid—Not again.

Yunho’s gaze devoured you. His pupils were blown wide, jaw clenched so tight you could practically feel the restraint vibrating off him.

He stays silent.

And then—

That smirk again. It’s like he can see through you. It’s as if he knew something you didn’t dare to say out loud.

Your fingers were the first too move—

Eyes still locked on one another.

You reached for his dress shirt. Undoing one button. Then another. Slow, no rush. Your touch brushed against the heat of his skin with every pass.

When the fourth button slipped free, you shifted closer—your body brushing his. Your lips hovered over his skin, pressing soft kiss just beneath his collarbone—

Right over his heart.

Your lips press kissing trailing up to beneath the ear. “Tell me,” you whispered, “does it still feel real?”

Yunho threw his head back, making a soft thud with the she of the sofa as he fluttered his eyes close with delight. He let out a low, desperate groan that growled deep from within his chest. “Shit”. He whispered.

You felt him twitch underneath you—for the first time feeling helpless. His hands flexed into fists, trying to restrain from touching you as he kept letting out broken, low groans.

Your hands dragged slowly down his chest, fingertips gliding over his skin until they reached his thighs—thick and tense beneath your touch.

You began to rub them in a slow, tormenting rhythm—up, down, up again—never rushing. Your thumbs brushed dangerously close to his throbbing bulge, straining against his slacks.

He inhaled sharply—he twitched as his chest heaved, head still thrown back as he now gripped the edge of the sofa.

You felt it—the way he was eager to know what you were going to do next.

And just when you knew he was about to break—

You stood up and backed away—leaving him with the ghost of your touch.

He let out a wrecked, frustrated groan as he snapped his head up at you—pupils blown wide, completely dazed out as he panted hard.

His eyes tracked your every move like he couldn’t believe this shit. You really walked away from him. Fuck.

You turned your back to him, hips swaying with a deadly rhythm. You knew his eyes were locked on you.

You ran a hand through your hair, then glanced back over your shoulder—just enough to catch him watching. And you winked—causing him to let out a scoff in disbelief.

Crossing the room, you approached the silver pole in the center of the mini stage. You turned, leaned your back against the cool metal, arching into it with feline grace.

It was cold against your skin but you didn’t flinch. This was your moment.

You threw your head back, exposing the curve of your neck as your chest rose and fell with every breath you took. One hand slide up to your throat, letting out a moan as you squeeze it gently—

Then gliding both hands over your breast, looking at him as you give a soft, purposeful squeeze before trailing them down the sides of your waist with fluid motion.

Across the room, Yunho shifted in his seat—feeling like his clothes were getting tight, air was thinning—he felt like he was suffocating.

He grabbed his drink and brought it to his lips, fucking taking a gulp trying to control himself. His eyes never left you—they were locked on you.

Dark. Frustrated. Barely blinking.

You smiled to yourself, remaining quiet.

Your fingers slid down the hem of your top, dragging the fabric upward—slow and teasing—peeling it off inch by inch until you finally lifted it over your head in a fluid motion, dangling in your hand until you dropped it beside you.

The soft lace of your bra hugged your skin perfectly. The swell of your breast showing the rising and falling with each breath.

You let him absorb every inch of you.

You then do a 180 twirl on the pole and face the mirror. Your vision adjusts on his eyes as you smirk—slowly, you bent forward, hands trailing down the back of your thighs.

They glide over the curves of your calves as your ass arches up high in the air. You stood up with a sensual roll of your hips. Then—

Your thumbs slipped into the waistbands of your shorts—dangerously dragging them down.

Just slow enough to feel every inch of the fabric as it slid over your hips, down your thighs, past your knees… until they pooled around your feet in a soft heap.

You stepped out of them, now standing in nothing but a delicate lace bra and matching thong.

You felt him. There was no need to look at him.

The way the air had thickened—the way his breathing faltered behind you.

He was dying in that seat.

And you weren’t done yet. Nope.

You turned your head—just slightly. Just enough to glance over your shoulder.

The corner of your mouth lifted into the softest, cruelest smile when you saw the sight of him—

Jaw clenched. Eyes dark. Chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. Completely wrecked.

Then you moved again—slow, dangerous, with a rhythm, turning around to face him.

Just then, you let your fingers trail down your stomach, throwing your head back as you bite your lower lip.

You lower and hover right at the thought of something completely unholy—

The music stopped.

Room fell into silence as you lifted your head and looked at him.

No one spoke.

Until you did, giving him a smile, “We are finished here.” You say softly as you walk to the robe hanging on the wall.

He didn’t move at first. Just sat there—shirt half unbuttoned, chest rising and falling like he’d been holding his breath during the whole performance.

Then his chair scraped back slightly as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice low and raw. “What the hell just happened?”

He wasn’t angry—just wrecked.

You turned your head to him, tying your robe, “A performance.” You said smoothly, walking up to him. “Did you enjoy it, Mr. Jeong?”

He remained silent and broken—wrecked, disbelief. He sat there fuming and aching, wondering where the fuck did time go.

You smiled, politely, and reached for his cup. “I’ll get you another one, sir.” You offered as you headed towards the minibar.

It was a habit. You did it for Jae. You did it for clients. Nothing more.

Yunho stood up and adjusted the buttons on his shirt, shaking his head as he let out a broken chuckle—he didn’t know if to laugh or curse. He turned his head to you and watched as you made his drink, ice clinking softly as you poured.

“How do you…” His voice was rough and low, “turn it off so quickly?”

You see glass down on the counter, feeling your hands shake as you try to calm down your rushing heartbeat. “What do you mean, Mr. Jeong?” You asked him, tilting your head in confusion.

There was a pause as he looked at you. He reached for his drink without looking at it—still trying to piece together what just happened.

He gives a small smile, slightly shaking his head. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter.”

But there was something that flickered behind his eyes—something you couldn’t pinpoint.

You slowly gave him a polite smile, stepping back. “I’m just doing my job, Mr. Jeong.”

But his eyes were still on you—quiet, unreadable.

“You know,” he said, taking a sip of his drink, “you can call me Yunho.”

You maintained a professional smile. “Of course, Mr. Jeong.” You said it softly—sweetly even.

But it hit Yunho harder than a slap.

“I hope you have a good night.” You tell him as you walk around him, getting ready to leave the room as your heels click on the floor.

But then—

Thud

You froze mid-step.

The sound cracked through the room—loud and final. He had the final power move.

Your heart jumped, slamming against your ribcage. You tell yourself to not turn around but—slowly, you did, internally cursing at yourself.

Two thick stacks of money sat on the bar’s counter. Tossed like they meant nothing, but to you it meant everything. Your eyes lifted to him.

He hadn’t moved. He stayed watching you.

“I know why you’re here.” His voice was low. “That night outside of the club—I saw you and Jae.”

Your breath caught as you slightly stepped back, eyes widening. “I saw you handing him all of your money.” He said as takes one step towards you.

You looked at the floor frantically—breathing a little bit heavier. You felt embarrassed right now, humiliated. Your eyes shot to him, “That doesn’t concern you.” You said in a cold tone.

He ignores your tone and steps closer to you. “You’re right, you’re right...” He shrugs and stops as he looks into your eyes. “But no one deserves to be treated like that.”

You didn’t look away.

Just stood there in silence. Letting his words wash over you. His words come back, getting you out of your thoughts, “This is what you’re going to do,”

He reaches for one of the stacks and slides it across the counter towards you, “You’ll give this one to Jae.” He pauses and then he picks up the other stack and hands it to you, “And this one—you keep. Spend it however you want.”

You stare at the money, feeling your pulse ring in your ears. “I can’t.” Your voice barely above a whisper.

“You can.” Yunho said with his tone unwavering—expression unreadable.

You shook your head, “No.” You said taking a step back, “I don’t want it.” Your breath was shallow as you turned around, feeling the room spin.

Your heart was racing, palms were sweaty. You placed your hand on your heart as you closed your eyes, trying to calm down the spinning in your head. You didn’t notice how fast you were breathing until Yunho stepped in front of you.

“Hey, hey.” He said softly as he took your hands, gently to ground you. “It’s okay.”

Your eyes shoot to him. “You don’t understand.” You tell him as you swallow to moisten your dry throat, “Jae will find out. You don’t know the things he will do once he does. He watches everything—He’ll know. He’ll know I’m hiding money—“

“He won’t find out.” He cuts you off gently. He held your gaze as he cups your face, “This stays between you and me. Okay?”

You didn’t speak.

You just nodded. Small.

“Okay.” He said in a whisper as he gave you a small smile.

You didn’t notice it but this was the first crack in your mask—your first moment of trust in him.

Then, without another word, Yunho lets go of your face and takes a step back, keeping that small smile before heading out the room.

There was no glance over his shoulder—just straight out the room.

You stood there for a moment.

Frozen.

“What the fuck just happened?” You whispered to yourself. Your breathing calmed, everything steadied. How did he do that so easily?

When you finally were able to move, your body moved on autopilot. You reached for the door, pulling it open—cool air from the club spilled in, brushing your exposed skin. Your eyes searched for him—why? You don’t fucking know why.

But when you did—

Across the club, already halfway to another private room. Two girls happily pull him inside as he gives them a smirk, one of them stopping to whisper into his ear as he wraps his arm around her waist for support.

But then—

He looks back at you. A quick tilt of his head, barely noticeable.

Your stomach drops. You weren’t sure what that look meant, but you can’t deny what you felt from it.

Soon enough he disappears as the door closes. You stood there, still gripping the knob of the door. Slowly you stepped back into the room and shut the door, turning to leaning on it.

Your eyes then dropped to the money on the counter. Your jaw tightened. You didn’t move. Just stared at it. You didn’t want anything from him but—

You sighed as you pushed yourself off the door. As you approached the money, your hand hesitatingly grabbed them.

You hated yourself for a second.

But this was the only choice you had.

—

It was a new night.

The lights were blinding, bass pulsed through your body, crowd was loud—

One thing that stood out from everything was how you felt before you saw him. The way everything faded the moment your eyes locked on him.

Yunho.

In the VIP section again. Legs spread out, shoulders relaxed, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily cradling a drink he hadn’t touched.

Watching you on stage.

Your body moved on muscle memory. You knew this set like the back of your hands—hands know where to go, how your hips should sway.

But tonight, everything felt… different.

Something along the lines of intimate.

Your eyes flickered in his direction when they were suppose to stay closed, hips rolling a second longer, fingers sliding across your skin a little too slow—

Hey, what are you doing?

Stop it.

You know better. You know better than to give him a show.

But you did.

Somehow, you always did.

He could feel every thought passing through your head, every skip in your breath—it’s like he can read you.

And then— he smiled.

The faintest pull on his lips. Like he owned the way your body shifted in movements.

Your breath hitched, turning your eyes back to the crowd as you ached your back against the pole. Fuck. Get your shit together. You think to yourself as you collect yourself.

The music pounded as bills flew off of hands—loud cheers but you didn’t register it.

Because one name cuts through your mind like a knife; Jae.

Your chest tightened. Suddenly the air didn’t feel electric—it felt dangerous. Your movements snapped back to routine.

You finished the set.

But as you slid off the stage and stepped behind the curtain, heart pounding and knees weak, all you could think was that he saw it. He saw the way you messed up when you looked at him. Even deep in thought as you were up there.

You just wanted to go home.

But—

You just wanted to know why the fuck you were heading towards Yunho.

What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?

You kept telling yourself to stop.

You told yourself to keep that distance.

And yet–

One step.

Two steps.

One after another. The sounds of your heels against the floor felt louder than the music.

He was still there, seated. Relaxed. Confident. Watching the next performance.

Always watching.

You hate the way your stomach flipped inside at the sight of him. You hated the way your body reacted towards him.

Why were you going to him? You don’t owe him anything. You don’t talk to him. You don’t trust him. You can’t.

You should just stop and turn around, forget this even happened.

Five more steps.

His eyes lifted and locked onto yours. Your breath stuttered. You were close now—no turning back.

Your mouth parted to say something—maybe a greet? Come up with a half assed minuscule complaint that you can just deal with on your own?

You had no clue.

But suddenly— Jae’s voice echoed in your head. “Don’t get any fucking ideas.”

And for once, you agreed with the possessive, power-drunk asshole.

You were not going to get any ideas, even if your body betrayed you.

Your throat closed around the words you didn’t even know what you were going to say.

You clenched your jaw, swallowed the lump in your throat and just turned around.

You didn’t even look back.

Yunho leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he gnawed on his lower lip, curious as to what you were going to do as he watched you disappear behind the curtain.

—

It was later at night and the crowd had thinned out, lights were dimmed—and you were exhausted.

You saw in the farthest booth—away from the noise, away from stares, away from him. You did check your surroundings and didn’t spot him anywhere. You sat down with a sigh of relief as you counted the stack of bills resting in your lap.

On autopilot. Barely present.

Your fingers moved, but your mind was miles away. You wonder if he left already or is in a private dance with some girls—not that you care.

Just focus on you and everything will be okay.

You were halfway through rolling a band around a few bills when a shadow stopped at your table. You looked up and saw it was one of the new girls, standing in front of you with a cold bottle of water.

You tilted your head, “Oh?” You were confused as you reached out and grabbed it from your hands. “…Thank you?” You gave her a small smile.

“You’re welcome!” She said brightly with a little smile. “You… didn’t ask for one, right?”

You shook your head slowly, confused. “No. I didn’t.”

She grinned like she knew something you didn’t. “I know.” She beamed. “Someone wanted me to give it to you.”

Your heart skipped, taken aback. “Who?”

But she just winked and turned, heels clicking as she walked away without another word. Your eyes flicked to the bottle and then you saw it—

A napkin—

Folded neatly beneath the water, pressed flat under the condensation. You peeled it free with careful fingers.

For your hard work tonight. —J

Your throat tightened as your eyes slightly widened. Your head shot up as you scanned the room with too much urgency.

And you spotted him—

Outside of Jae’s office on the third floor—half in the shadow. He raised his glass to you. A silent acknowledgement.

You looked back down at the note, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered from his gesture.

But you couldn’t ignore the fact that he saw you for you. Not as a toy or machine or dancer… but you.

And in all honesty—you didn’t mean to keep it.

Seriously, you didn’t.

It was just a napkin.

So how did it end up in your purse?

You were sitting in your vanity, fully dressed in your sweats to go home, taking off the makeup before you left. Once you were done, you reached into your purse for your keys but felt something soft, causing you to take it out with furrowed eyebrows.

It’s crumpled a little now from being cooped up in your purse. You looked around and saw that you were alone in the room then read the simple words again.

For your hard work tonight. —J

You stared at it like it had something more to say.

But it was just a note.

He treats all the girls like this, maybe even more.

But your fingers fold it gently—delicately—like something fragile. Like something worth keeping. You then tucked it back in your purse.

You reached over to turn off the light on your vanity but before you did that, you stared at your own reflection, whispering. “Get a grip.”

With that you turned it off and headed on home.

Where you reread that note on the napkin a few times before drifting to sleep—napkin on your chest.

—

You were on bar duty that night.

The bottles clinked as you restocked the top shelf, lips pursed in quiet annoyance as you felt a cramp forming in your shoulder from extending your arm too far.

You stretched your neck to the side as you rolled your shoulder backwards to quickly release the pressure. Besides the pain in your shoulder—tonight was a good night.

First things first, no heels.

Secondly, no drunk men harassing you or any of the usual chaos.

But most importantly—No Yunho.

It was just your and your space with the low hum of the steady music and peace.

But you spoke too soon.

“Hey,” One of the girls called out as she leaned over the counter, adjusting her top in the mirror behind the bar as she chewed her gum, “you got a booking.”

You blinked.

Like hell you do.

“I’m not on rotation.” You didn’t bother to look up—just kept polishing the glass in your hand.

She smirked, “Yeah, well, now you are.”

You placed the cup down, her smirk quickly dropping as you looked at her. “Who is it?” You asked.

She blinked innocently—too innocent. She shrugged, “Didn’t say.”

Bullshit.

You can see the lie in your eyes.

But just as you were going to confront her, another dancer strolled in, heels dangling from her fingers like dead weight.

She tossed them on the bar as she sat on the stool, leaned her elbows against the counter and grinned at you.

“Whoever it is, paid in cash.” She paused, looking around and then leaned in closer to you causing the other girl to lean in as well to hear her. “They also tipped enough to cover someone’s rent for two days.”

The other girl gasped as she popped her bubblegum. “What?!” She exclaimed as the other one just nodded at her words. “Bitch, you’re so lucky.”

You gave them a deadpan look.

Lucky is something you are far from.

You scoffed as you rolled your eyes, wiping down the counter. “Well, whoever it is—“ you paused as you narrowed your eyes at them, “I’m not doing it.”

The girls exchanged a look before bursting out into laughter—loud and unapologetic. “You say that like you have a choice.” The barefoot one said as she got off the stool and winked at you as she scooped up her heels.

They both walked away, not bothering to hear a response from you.

You stare at the hallway then at the bar top. Let’s just get this over with.

—

You should’ve fucking known.

There he was.

Yunho.

Sitting in the center chair like it was and for him—legs spread, arms draped over the sides, head tilted slightly like he’d already been waiting for hours, but he didn’t care. He would wait for you.

His gaze dragged up your body, slow and heavy. “Thought you weren't going to come.” His voice was low.

You raised an eyebrow, taking small steps to him, “I didn’t realize I was expected.” You replied in a neutral tone—but you could hear the tightness in it.

Yunho smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

You hesitated—just a flicker—and his eyes caught it.

Why does he have to say it like that? Why does he say things like this to you? Why does it affect you so much?

You turned your back to him as you untied the robe, letting it drop to the floor. You could feel his stare on you as goosebumps arose on your skin.

You stepped into the center of the room, “Then I hope…” you paused as you finally looked at him face to face, “I don’t disappoint you.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak, just watched. There was no way to describe the emotions Yunho was going through as you looked him in the eyes.

You walked until you stood between his legs, lifting your hand up at him.

His gaze flickered to it, a brow lifting in amusement but he didn’t move.

He sat there, motionless.

He knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to make you suffer just a little.

Was he going to accept it or not?

But then—

He reached out.

Sliding his large and warm hand into yours, fingers curling up. The contact sent heat spiraling up your arm. You gave him a soft smile—controlled and measured—gently tugging him up.

He smirked as he rose up, letting you lead him. His gaze never left yours as you guided him to the center of the room.

The look behind his eyes—it was something unreadable. It burned slowly, deep, and dangerous. You don’t know why his eyes felt different, compared to Jae. Compared to the many men you have met.

When you reached the spot, you stopped. His chest is a few inches from yours. Your hands slide up his suit jacket, over his firm chest. You then slide them down—until they paused just above his belt.

You look up at him, eyes twinkling. Your arms reach over his shoulders as you hover over his mouth, “I want you to get on your knees.” You whispered. “Mr. Jeong.”

A beat of silence.

You waited for rejection. For the challenge. For the smirk that always meant game over.

But what came instead—

Was surrender.

A slow shake of his head, that smile curling at the edges almost as if saying you have no idea what you’re doing.

Then—

He stepped back twice, still looking at you, and he dropped to his knees. You smiled down at him as you took out pretty pink handcuffs from your back pocket as it dangled on your finger, “Hands behind your back.” You lightly teased.

He didn’t hesitate or asked why. His hands slid behind him, interlacing at the small of his back as you began to slowly circle.

Your fingers traced across his broad shoulders—light, deliberate—like you were trying to memorize him through touch alone.

He stayed still. Relaxed.

Waiting.

You crouched behind him, your body close but not touching—hovering. Your lips close enough behind his neck as your breath fanned on it.

One hand reaches forward, slipping around the front of his neck, finger played across his throat. The other slid up to jaw, gripping just enough to make his lips part.

In the mirror across the room, you saw his reflection—on his knees, chest slightly heaving as he waited desperately for your next move while you were in control of this moment.

You leaned in, your breath a whisper against the shell of his ear. “Why are you so quiet, Mr. Jeong?”

He didn’t answer.

But the shiver that ran down his spine told you everything.

You smiled and pressed your thumb under his jaw, gently tilting his head back. “Always looking at me with loud eyes,” you murmured, “yet your mouth has gone quiet.”

You scoffed a quiet smirk against his cheek. You then reached down and with a soft click, you fastened the cuffs around his wrists.

“Or is this what shuts you up?” Your voice dropped to something darker—dangerous. “A woman touching you like this? Someone who you can’t control?”

And for a second—just a second, he didn’t breathe.

Then he chuckled.

Low and deep.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he said, voice sounding strained but steady. “You think me being quiet means surrender.” His gaze lifted to the mirror, looking into your eyes, “But it doesn’t.”

His lips parted in a slow, wicked smirk. “It just means that I’m watching you.”

You could feel your heart drop.

You let out a silent chuckle.

You then stand up and circle back around to face him. You then raised your foot to his chest and pushed him back, his breath hitching at the impact to the floor.

“Still watching?” You asked him as you tilted your head to the side, smirking.

His eyes just went feral.

He couldn’t speak—you left him speechless.

You, too, couldn't believe what you have done as you felt your hand tremble slightly—

What the hell just came over you?

You dragged your foot off his chest and stepped over him. You sat down and straddled him—knees sinking to the cold floor on either side of him.

You lowered your hips just enough to brush his thighs—hard and straining with tension. You instantly felt his body tense under yours as he bit his lower lip—trying to keep his composure.

You started to roll your hips, slow and sensual. This wasn’t for pleasure—this was for control. You wanted to watch him fall apart.

But your mind was screaming at you. You better stop before things get worse. His back arched at the touch of you as he inhaled and exhaled sharply, trying to not break.

So you leaned in, grabbing his face gently to face you. “You think I mistake your silence for surrender?” Your voice was dangerously low. “You think that being quiet means power?”

You rolled your hips—slow and deep, letting out a small laugh as he twitched under you. “It just means you’re trying not to beg.”

Your hands slid up his chest, planting them there as your body rolled with a precision that was lethal. “Quiet men are always the loudest when they come apart.”

You dragged out every movement like punishment, “Let’s see how long you last.”

And just like that—

His groan cracked in the air, thick and broken as he threw his head back. “Fuck.” He whispered as his chest heaved, eyes shut tightly, body tensing.

Fuck, indeed.

The way he looked under you looked so ravishing that you barely caught the moan that slipped out your mouth.

Shit. You swallowed down the rest that wanted to come out down and leaned in, your lips brushing his throat. “You look better like this.” Your voice murmured like velvet. “On your knees. In cuffs. Beneath me.”

“Much better than the other night.”

You felt it when the words hit him.

He knows exactly what night you’re talking about. The night he left you in that confused state with his kind act, where he looked back at you and nodded as he was being dragged into the room by the two girls.

The night you told yourself you didn’t give a fuck.

“What a shame,” You kissed the corner of his lips, then whispered in his ear. “You don’t look nearly as desperate as them.”

Fuck, the way his body reacted.

A low grunt caught in his throat as he tilted his head up slightly to look at you—he felt like he heard something he wasn’t supposed to.

Was this… jealousy?

But you masked it with a smirk, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. You reached into your bra and pulled out a key—dangling it off one finger.

“Someone should help you finish.” Your voice was laced with a playful tone but your jaw was a little too tense. You hovered over his lips, “I’m sure one of your girls would be happy to.”

You then flicked the key off to the side and got off of him, heading to the door. He sits up slowly and glares at your figure, eyebrows furrowed—you struck a nerve. “Y/N, wait—“ he paused as he panted.

His eyes were burning with anger.

He doesn’t fucking want them.

He wants you.

Just before your fingers touched the handle, you paused. You turned around with a half smirk, “Thank you,” you said, “for your hard work… Mr. J.”

You didn’t wait for a reaction.

You walked out the door not bothering to look back at him. You didn’t slam the door, didn’t storm out—just remained calmed.

Your eyes spotted one of his girls leaned against the wall—looking at the crowd. When she spotted you, she stood up straight, “He is waiting for you. Go.” You didn’t say it rudely, you said it like a command.

She blinked in surprise. “O-Oh. Okay.” She nodded as slipped past you, her heels clicking on the floor as she made her way to the room.

And as she opened the door—

There he was under dimly red lights in the room, still kneeling—still cuffed. Glaring at you through the mirror. He felt wrecked, pissed—betrayed.

You didn’t flinch. You turned and walked away, “Maybe now he’ll leave me alone.”

But you didn’t even believe those words. Not one bit.

—

Tonight, you were on bar duty again and you made damn sure it was going to stay like that. You checked the board twice—three times—just in case someone wanted to change things around.

Tonight was actually a slow night—Thank god. You were mixing some liquor and syrup sweetener in the cocktail shaker, lost in thought.

You grabbed two cups and placed ice cubes in each and popped open the top of the shaker, pouring the drinks in. You then placed them on the side counter for the girls to pick them up and at the same time—

A ticket came in.

You sighed as you looked over the order. You placed the ticket down and turned to the wall of bottles, grabbing one of them to turn around—

Only to nearly scream.

Yunho.

Sitting on the other side of the bar like he’d always been there. Legs spread as his elbows rested on the counter, watching you with a smirk.

Like nothing had happened.

As if you didn't cuff him and humiliate him with another girl walking in on him like that the other night.

Your breath caught, a soft yelp slipping out. You straightened fast, placing a hand over your chest as you slammed the bottle onto the counter—harder than you meant to.

“Jesus—” You hissed out. “What are you doing? You can’t just sneak up on people like that.” You tell him as you get back to work.

He waited a moment.

Just tilted his head a bit and smiled at you. “Why?” He asked.

“Did she take the cuffs off too soon?” He teased in a low voice.

Your body stilled.

Glass in hand as your lips parted but nothing came out. Your grip on the bottle tightened—but you kept your face expressionless.

You then looked him dead in the eye and just dropped everything you were doing and walked away. You headed to the storage room, telling yourself to grab some random bottles to “stock up” but really, it’s just to get away from him.

You opened the door and walked to the wall of bottles, you went for the highest shelf but couldn’t reach it. Soon the air shifted as you saw his hand reaching out and grabbing it for you.

You turned around, fast, and stumbled back a bit, not realizing he was very close to you. He hands you the bottle and tilts his head, “Why do you keep walking away from me?”

You tilted your head to the side and gave him a deadpan look, “If it was obvious, I’m working.” You gestured to the bottles behind you and in your hand.

He steps a little closer. “So was I.” His voice was low, “But you know that’s not what I meant.”

Your breath caught at your throat.

You just shook your head, “I’m not doing this.” You said in a whisper as you left the room but he was hot on your steps.

“You keep walking away, but I know you don’t want to.” He tells you as you two walk down the private hallway. “I know you feel what I feel too.”

You stopped in your steps and sigh, turning around to face him. “What makes you think that you know what I want?” You got closer to him, “What I feel?”

He got serious as he closed the gap between you two. “Because I know how you sound when you do.” He lifts a hand and cups your face, “The way you react when we touch.”

Your knees nearly buckled.

You closed your eyes at the warmth of his hands, letting out a soft sigh. No, no, no—

This can’t be happening.

You removed his hand and backed up.

There was a silent moment.

Your eyes snapped at him. “What do you want from me, Yunho?” Your voice was a whisper, feeling like it nearly trembled.

“You look at me in a way I can’t explain.” You said. “You show up one moment and the next you’re gone. You do things to me and it makes me feel like something is there.” You gestured between the both of you.

You shake your head. “No matter how much I tell myself what we have is just transactional—just a fantasy… I almost start to believe the feeling. Which is the worst part.”

You don’t know why you’re getting teary. You bring the back of your hand to your mouth as you clear your throat, feeling like you’re going to collapse. “I don’t know you and you don’t know me yet why am I getting like this?”

You let out a scoff as you shake your head. You really can’t believe you are actually confessing to him.

“But then you know what you do? You run back to your girls. Every. Single. Fucking. Time.” You spat at him. “Like none of this matters.”

He flexed his jaw. “Is that what you think?” His voice was quiet—dangerously low. “You think none of this matters to me? You think this is about them?”

You let out a disbelief laugh, “Are you serious?” You asked him, sarcastically. “No, really, are you being serious? Because I don’t think I have ever met anyone so stupid before.”

“You say these things to me, you are always asking for me—you think— you think I don’t know you were asking for my name that same night?” You dropped the bomb on him causing his eyes to widen.

“You give me money for myself. You call Jae out on his bullshit whenever I’m around, trying to subliminally talk to me—trying to reassure me that you see me for me.”

“Let me explain myself—“

“Explain what? How you tell me things to make me believe that you are different from others and then turn around fuck whomever you want leading me to think you actually are the same as everyone else—?”

“That’s not what it is—“

“Then what is it?” Your breath hitched, chest rising with everything you were trying to bury. “Am I just a game to you? A power trip?” You asked him.

“No—“

“You don’t want me, Yunho. You just want control.”

His eyes flickered between yours, brow twitching.

But you weren’t done.

“You want me quiet. Obedient. All yours—just like Jae.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why?” You asked sarcastically. “Because judging from where I’m standing, you’re just like him.”

And that landed like a slap to the face.

“Don’t ever compare me to that piece of shit.” His voice was low but filled with rage.

He was fucking hurt.

You froze, swallowing that lump in your throat. “Then why are you working with him?” You said. “If you hate him so much—if you’re not like him—then what the fuck does that make you?”

He just looked down, shaking his head in disbelief.

Your voice cracked. “You knew what he was. You knew exactly who he is—“ You slightly raised your voice, “And yet, you still chose to sit next to him. Become partners. Protect him. So let me ask you—“

You glared at him. “If you’re not like him… Why are you helping him keep me in a cage?”

Now, it was his turn to talk.

He steps closer, his dark eyes locked on you. “You want to know why I partnered up with him?” His voice was laced with something darker.

“Because someone like him is better as a partner instead of an enemy.”

Honest. Brutal.

But he wasn’t finished.

“Don’t get things twisted with me. You handed him the keys to the cage.” Your stomach flipped. “You let him break you. Piece by fucking piece—until there was nothing left but obedience.”

You looked to the side, not being able to stare at him anymore as tears were stinging your eyes. But he kept going. “You blindly gave yourself away… and stayed.”

“And those girls?” He let out a bitter scoff, eyes burning into yours. “I never once fucked them. They were all background noise. Distractions. Faces I don’t remember. Touches that meant absolutely nothing.” His voice cracked—just slightly.

“Empty. Fucking empty. They didn’t mean shit to me.” He tells you as he looks between your eyes.

You felt angry tears streaming down your face as you glared at him. “And what you saw was an act for the cameras.” He says. “To make Jae believe the girls are doing their part. I would never, ever make you think otherwise of my words. I would never disrespect you like that. Because what I feel for you is real.”

“So,” he said, “don’t you compare me to that man that you chose.”

Silence.

You looked back at him with tears streaming down your face. Behind that fury in his face—regret already forming but it was too late.

You cleared your throat, feeling like your voice was going to tremble when you spoke.

“I really—ahem—“ your voice did crack, you sniffed as you stared into his eyes. “I really thought you were different.”

His expression cracked—barely—but enough. His harsh words are repeating in your head. “But, I guess I was blind. Once again.”

You sniffed once more, biting your lower lip. “Fuck you, Yunho.”

You quickly run out the hallway and through the back of the club, pushing open the exit door as the air of the night hits your face.

You placed your hand out to the wall for support as you walked towards the edge of the club—feeling like you’re going to just fall. You then leaned against the wall, placing your hand over your mouth and just broke down.

Quiet sobs that shook your shoulders as your other hand clutched your ribs like you could hold yourself together as you slid down the wall.

Inside—

Yunho just stood there.

Replying the way you ran away from him—your words still sting him.

Just then—

“Yunho~” One of his girls cooed when the both of them turned into the hallway. “There you are. Are you coming to the VIP section?” She asked as she grabbed his arm.

The other girl caressed his arm, giggling. “Yeah, we miss you.”

Yunho was just zoned out, looking at the floor. He then shakes the girls off and walks between them—they stumbled slightly back. “Leave me alone.” His jaw clenched.

They gasped and blinked in confusion as they watched him walk away. But just before they could say anything—

He turned the corner.

He just walked up to the office and slammed the door shut, shoving everything off the desk as everything hits the floor. He stands over it with his chest heaving as he looked at the empty table.

He slams his fist on it and then leans on it, feeling like he, too was about to break down.

"Fuck." He whispered in defeat.

To be Continued.

892 notes · View notes

jeneveuxrein · 8 months ago

Text

mutual (AESPA Karina)

word count: 12.5K

(finished right before their comeback, but i'm a mess this month. anyhow, enjoy pls)

-- -- --

You couldn’t believe she’s gone.

People talk about grief coming and going like the ocean on the shore, but to experience it firsthand like this, so suddenly with no warning whatsoever, feels like the tide pulling you in.

You didn’t want to be here. If you had the choice, you’d be on a plane to anywhere else, running away from reality instead of facing it.

Your best friend, Kim Minjeong, died in a tragic hit-and-run accident. It hurts to say out loud. Let alone think. The worst part of it all, was that she was on the way to see you after living abroad for the past year. Guilt weighed on your shoulders, to the point where you were so close to falling off the rails, but you didn’t.

You stare blankly at the portrait her family chose. It’s a photo you took one Christmas at the annual family party. Your parents, specifically your mothers, were close. The best of friends since university. They hoped you two would fall in love, and it was halfway a possibility—on your end.

You couldn’t explain it as it was happening, realizing that the feelings brewing for Minjeong wasn’t how you felt for the other girl friends in your life. It was confusing, jarring, that by the time you understood what it was, she already had a boyfriend.

It didn’t stop you from dating other women, but there was always that sliver of hope Minjeong would see you more than a childhood friend, that held you back from being committed. They noticed, which didn’t faze you since you weren’t looking for anything serious to begin with.

You reserved those feelings for Minjeong, but now they’re pointless, unresolved, lingering, painful.

A hand gently rests itself on your shoulder, snapping you out of your revere. You look up, and it’s Jimin. She gives you a soft smile, rubbing the spot enough to be soothing, comforting even.

“We don’t have to be here. Our eommas said we could leave,” Karina says with the same smile still on her face. You don’t think you’ve smiled since you got the call, so it was confusing to see her smiling.

(If you were in the right state of mind, you’d see through Karina, knowing she’s doing her best to hide how she feels.)

You nod, and Karina extends her hand out. You let her pull you up, interlacing your fingers together. She drags you through the room, bidding farewell to the guests. They give their condolences, which irks you for some reason. These people didn’t know Minjeong the way you do, and you try letting go of Karina’s hand, but she keeps a firm grip.

Once the cold air hits your face and the door slams shut, the mask cracks. She breaks down, falling into you as her knees give out. It’s almost reflexive how you encircle your arms around her, pulling her into you as you fight the tears threatening to spill.

Karina was strong in front of people, but when it was around you, she was vulnerable, sensitive to her feelings and thoughts. She didn’t trust many, but she trusted you.

“Jimin,” You whisper, voice cracking at the use of her real name instead of her baptismal name. “I’m here. What do you need?”

Karina buries her face into your chest, sobbing as the emotions overwhelm her. You hold on tight, body immovable as you support her weight.

(The thing is, Karina is your best friend too. You all were. An unexpected trio of childhood friends that had been through everything together.)

After a few minutes, Karina takes a deep breath. She mumbles something you can’t quite make, and you softly ask her to repeat it.

“Let’s get drunk.”

-- --

You slammed the car door shut, barely noticing Karina’s body flinch. She gave you a pointed look, rolling her eyes as she connected her phone to the bluetooth.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” You muttered, starting the car the same time she chose a song.

“Something happened and I’d bet you tteokbokki it has to do with Minjeong,” Karina teased, chuckling when she saw you pout. “Bingo, you owe me.”

“I just don’t get what she sees in him, he’s a fucking ass.” The scene of Minjeong laughing at what’s-his-face’s probably not funny joke left a sour taste in your mouth. “He’s not even funny.”

“And you are?” Karina remarked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You laugh at my jokes.”

“Because you are one.”

“Okay, ouch.” You reached for the volume, turning the knob to drown out her giggles.

Once you pulled out of the parking lot, hitting the main road, Karina asked to get dinner together. You didn’t want to, but relented when she said it was her treat. To, you know, placate witnessing how Minjeong acted around her boyfriend. It was becoming a more regular thing these past few weeks, which may be partly your fault since you actively searched for her during breaks and in the hallway.

You arrived at the small mom-and-pop shop around the corner from your house. By pure reflex, you walked around the car to open the door and Karina let you.

It was a weird dynamic, even though it had always been platonic. At least, to you two. Minjeong would often call herself the third wheel when you were together, something that irritated Karina while you brushed the comment off.

Your feelings stood with Minjeong and Karina was highly aware of it. You vented about them to her constantly. Minjeong’s new relationship had increased the pining tenfold.

“You don’t have to keep opening the doors for me. People might get the wrong impression,” Karina said as she stepped out.

“What? Who cares what people think. I’ve been doing this forever, to you and Minjeong.” You closed the door, gentler than when you left school.

“People think we’re dating,” Karina grumbled after you covered her body with your jacket. “Stop doing that too!”

You pinched her shoulder. “No,” Simply stating a fact. “If people think that, whatever. You know who I like anyways.”

You continued walking, mainly to open the door for her again, but if you had kept her pace, you would’ve heard Karina’s defeated yeah unfortunately I do.

-- --

“Why the fuck did you buy so much?” You groan, dropping the heavy bags on the coffee table. There’s a loud clunk and Karina slaps your leg as you collapse on the couch.

“Can you not do that? I don’t want to clean up the glass if it breaks.” Karina glares, taking the bottles out along with the snacks.

You mumble a half-assed apology, helping her set things up. You didn’t do much except for folding the plastic bags. Karina hands you a soju bottle that you automatically unscrew for her, exchanging it for another for yourself.

You clink bottles before you take a healthy swig of the peach flavored soju Karina made sure to get. It’s your favorite, even though she always teases you for having the taste palette of a child. It goes down smoothly as it settles bitterly in your stomach.

You sink into the couch even deeper, crossing your arms behind your head as you stare at the ceiling. Karina takes the bottles and places them on the table before she lets out a sigh. Your eyes follow her movements, arranging the chips and candies in an orderly fashion. It’s a habit of hers whenever she’s stressed, anything to keep her distracted so she doesn’t have to think.

“Karina,” Your hand reaches out after she turns the bottles around again, making sure they face the same direction. “Come here,” You pull her into you, sliding your arm around her waist. Her body’s tense. It’s practically radiating off her, that you do what you know best—wrapping your other arm around until she melts into you.

It takes a moment longer than usual. Not like you timed yourself in situations like this. You have always been perceptive of Karina’s feelings and moods, reading her like an open book while others found her difficult to talk to.

(Well, for a shallow reason. Karina’s beautiful, gorgeous, a bombshell. Growing up, boys and girls thought she was intimidating based on that reason alone. She wasn’t, not in the slightest. You may have been biased since you’ve known her forever, but you didn’t think she was. A bit sarcastic with the right amount of kindness. Her being visually appealing was just a bonus.)

Karina doesn’t like physical affection, but she never had that issue with you. So it’s nothing out of the ordinary when she slots her head in the crook of your neck, body relaxing into the embrace as she throws her arm over your stomach.

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Karina says quietly.

Your heart breaks all over again. You had been so wrapped up in your head that you neglected to be the support Karina needs. You may have lost the what if in your life, but she lost her best friend too.

“I know,” You murmur, fingers tracing up and down her back. “It’s fucked.”

“Who am I supposed to call when you’re being difficult?” It’s a joke, but it doesn’t sound like one as her voice cracks at the end.

“Me. Just tell me I’m annoying.” You reassure her, pulling her in closer as you rest your cheek on the top of her head.

“You’re annoying right now,” Karina huffs and you actually crack a smile. “I don’t know what to do next.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s strange, melancholic and whatever other word like that fits.”

“What is?”

“From now on, Minjeong’s only a memory.”

-- --

You held your head low, avoiding the remaining students in the hallway as you walked out of the principal’s office. Your cheek hurt, but it was more embarrassing to make eye contact with someone for them to ask what happened if they didn’t know at this point.

Once you made it outside, you beelined straight for the sidewalk. Your car was in the shop so you had no choice but to take public transportation today—of all days. It wasn’t an easy escape since you were shoved, knocking you off balance that you almost squared up again, but immediately dropped your fists when you realized who it was.

“Karina, what’re you—” She shoved you again. You noticed Minjeong a meter away, eating ice cream. You pleaded for help, but her view was blocked with the wrath of Yu Jimin.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shrugged, acting as if you didn’t know what she was referring to. “Let me see your face.” Her hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at her. Her eyes widened when she saw the bruise on your face.

One would think there would be some sympathy involved, yet here you were, getting physically assaulted by your best friend. You were glad there weren’t that many people loitering, but there were still a handful that could spark a rumor.

“Jimin, enough,” Minjeong sighed, standing from the ledge. “Let’s just talk to him first okay? Stop hurting him.”

“No,” Karina said sharply, shaking her head as she prepared for another swing. “If he wants to get into a fight so badly, then we’re fighting right here.”

“Domestic disturbance,” Minjeong mumbled as she stepped in between you, effectively halting Karina from landing another hit.

“Move.” It came out as a warning, but it didn’t scare Minjeong in the slightest.

“Why did you get into a fight?” Minjeong turned her head slightly. Karina wouldn’t hit her.

“What’re you even talking about?” Playing dumb wouldn’t get you anywhere, but it was better than explaining why there was a nasty bruise on your face.

Minjeong sighed again, turning around completely to face you. “Ryujin told Yeji that she saw you basically beat up two seniors. The reason why, however, was unknown.”

Look, you didn’t mean for it to happen.

You were generally not a violent person, but you had a bit of a temper. Your mother put you in a bunch of activities growing up, like taekwondo and basketball, to keep you busy and ‘out of trouble’ as she liked to say. She didn’t want you to fall with the wrong crowd, but it wasn’t like that was possible with Minjeong and Jimin by your side. They kept you in check more than anyone else in your life.

You would argue that the only way to really get under your skin was if it involved said women, which was why you saw red when you overheard these two fucks talking about Karina so crassly as you were getting your things for practice. It was disgusting, and it pissed you off. The things they said weren’t appropriate, especially so out in the open.

Naturally, you had to say something. They didn’t appreciate when you told them to shut up, going further to say that since they had seen you around Karina so much that you had to be fucking her and a lot of other things that you didn’t want to repeat–ever.

Obviously not the fucking case, but you digressed.

“We just got into it,” You shrugged, stepping away from Minjeong as she tilted her head, curious at your response. “Boys just being boys.”

“You have a fucking bruise on your face!” Karina exclaimed, throwing her hands up in desperation. “Don’t use that fucking excuse.”

“Oppa,” Minjeong crossed her arms, waiting for you to give the real reason.

“They said some things and I put them in their place, that’s all.”

“What could they have possibly said that they both needed to go to the hospital?!” Karina questioned. You could tell she was getting tired of your vagueness. “Ryujin ran to get Mingyu to pull you off, but by the time they made it back, none of you were there.”

“Look, I don’t want to fucking talk about it,” You bit back with more attitude than you intended, but your face hurt and all you wanted to do was sulk and brood.

“Too fucking bad,” Karina slid herself in between you and Minjeong. “We’re not going home until you fucking tell us why.” Minjeong carefully pulled her back, but Karina being as stubborn as ever wouldn’t budge.

“You really want to fucking know?” Your emotions were getting the best of you. You didn’t want to do this now, maybe tomorrow or the day after, but you just needed to think about your actions. Though, if you were being honest, you’d do it again.

“We’re still here, aren’t we?” Karina replied sarcastically, ticking you off more.

“Fine, if you want to be a fucking child about it,” You let out a breath, rolling your eyes as you recount with as much detail as possible about what they said. How they wondered what kind of underwear she wore. How they just knew that she was a ‘freak’ so to speak in bed. How it wouldn’t be hard to ‘tap’ that ass, or whatever. Or how she’d easily give it up since the rumors of her sleeping with every guy were ‘apparently’ true.

(As far as you knew, Karina had one boyfriend her entire life and she hardly went out on dates. If she did, it was always with a group of people.)

“So there, that’s what they fucking said. Obviously I couldn’t just stand there and let them talk about you like that. I’m going home.” You ignored the way Karina’s expression softened and the way Minjeong’s mouth opened, slightly in shock. You didn’t want to tell either of them that you got into a fight because of Karina, but obviously said woman just had to get in your business.

(Granted, okay, it involved her. But that was beside the point.)

“Wait!” Karina called after you as soon as you walked through the school gates.

You didn’t turn back. You kept on pushing. You were ashamed enough for getting suspended for the rest of the week, and your parents were going to have a field day.

You just wanted to sleep at this point.

You’d deal with Karina and Minjeong later.

Later came as you were falling asleep.

There was a knock on your door that startled you. You turned over, hoping that whoever was on the other side would leave. Your mother already went off on you for acting so recklessly, but by some cosmic force, your father actually supported your decision. He didn’t necessarily agree with violence and thought you would have handled it better, but he didn’t get on you as much as his better half.

Instead of another knock, you heard the doorknob click. You forgot to lock it since you collapsed on the bed, exhaustion creeping in from the day. The door quietly shut before the bed dipped.

You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. You smelled her perfume as soon as she walked in.

“Can we talk?” Karina’s voice came out softly. You didn’t move, staying as still as possible. “I know you’re still awake.”

When you didn’t respond, you felt Karina pressed up against yours, an arm snaking around.

“Karina, let me sleep,” You grunted out, scooting away. It was futile since she latched onto you like a koala, holding onto you like her life depended on it.

“No,” Her head shook against your back, face nuzzling in between your shoulder blades. “I’m not leaving until we talk.”

“Then goodnight,” You stated bluntly, trying to shrug her off. She held on tighter.

“Fine, guess I’m sleeping over.” Karina let go. It didn’t take that long for you to realize she was likely sending a message to her parents that she’d be staying the night. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, and your parents always welcomed her.

“You have a class early tomorrow.”

“And I don’t care,” Karina said simply as you heard her place her phone on the nightstand. You sighed again, literally rolling off your bed and landing on the floor with a loud thud. “What? What’re you doing?”

You pushed yourself up, noticing she wore your hoodie you had been looking for, but made no comment. “I don’t think either of our parents would appreciate finding us in bed together.”

Karina reached for your shirt, pulling you until you reluctantly end up on your bed again. “Do you think I care?”

“Clearly not.” You muttered, resting your head on the pillow. You tried to get comfortable, closing your eyes, but you felt Karina’s gaze bore on the side of your face. “What?”

“Nothing,” Karina moved—annoyingly—until her leg brushed up against yours underneath the blanket. “Thank you,” She mumbled.

You knew what she was thanking you for, but you didn’t have the energy to get into it. You still wanted to sleep.

It was just…

You weren’t expecting to sleep next to Karina.

Waking up early was normal, except the fact that you woke up this morning with an arm over your stomach. You almost freaked out, but quickly remembering that you fell asleep with an unrelenting Karina.

You tried to move, but her hand bunched the fabric of your shirt. You tried again, but this time Karina woke up. She immediately let go, pushing herself up before profusely apologizing.

“It’s fine,” You sat up, waving her off as you leaned against your headboard. You glanced at the clock, and it was still dark outside with the sun peeking through the curtains. “How’d you sleep? Sorry if I kept moving.”

Karina mirrored you, sitting up while pulling the blanket. You noticed she removed your hoodie, shoulders exposed by a thin tank top that you had to look away out of respect. “I forgot you run really warm. I had to take off my hoodie in the middle of the night.”

“Do you mean my hoodie?”

“Other than that,” Karina didn’t acknowledge your question, “I slept fine.”

“Cool,” You avoided looking directly at her. “You should leave. You have an early class today.”

“Not until we talk about what happened yesterday,” Karina said stiffly, crossing her arms over her chest in your periphery. “Your father told me more about what happened.”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not a big deal. I’m not going to school the rest of the week so my mother is using that as free labor at the restaurant.”

Karina tugged at your arm, forcing you to look at her. Your gaze fell directly on her chest and you blushed. It was too early, and being this close to her didn’t exactly stop your body from reacting. You didn’t quite have a control on your hormones. You quickly averted your eyes to hers. “It is a big deal.” If she noticed you gawking at her chest, she didn’t comment. “You got into a fight because of me.”

“Yeah and I’d do it again,” You shrugged, eyes looking everywhere else except her. “You don’t deserve that.”

“People are going to talk regardless,” Karina sighed, shaking her head. She had a point, but it didn’t mean you’d let that stop you if you heard it yourself. “I don’t care what people say about me, and you shouldn’t either.”

“I do. I fucking care if someone’s talking about you like that. It’s fucking—”

Karina placed her index finger on your lips, shushing you, “You’re not going to be able to stop every single person that talks about me in that way. I’ve heard it. Yeji’s heard it. We’ve all heard it, but it doesn’t mean we throw a fist every time. Yeah it’s annoying, but it’s not worth the trouble. They could say whatever they want about me, but only the people I care about know the truth, right?”

You hated to admit she had another point, so you relented. She poked your cheek, “Stop brooding. I appreciate you sticking up for me, but really, it’s okay.”

“I’d do it again,” You pouted, crossing your arms.

“Yes you’ve said that,” Karina chuckled, resting her head on your shoulder.

You couldn’t help how you felt your friend down there reacted, stirring at the proximity of an attractive woman especially in your bed. You cleared your throat, needing to get away from the situation and into the shower—a cold one at that.

Karina was your best friend and you had a crush on your other best friend.

This was all too confusing.

“Walk me home?” Karina asked innocently, unaware of your inner turmoil.

You nodded, not trusting your voice, but ultimately jumping out of bed. “I’m going to shower first.”

Karina waved you off, sinking back underneath the covers.

Thank god you thought.

You had to remind yourself you liked Minjeong. You just had a natural reaction.

(That was what you told yourself, ignoring the scratch behind your ribcage as you looked back at Karina with her eyes closed on your pillow.)

-- --

Karina whines as you beat her again in Mario Kart. She had the bright idea to play after you finished another bottle of soju.

“Why don’t you let me win?!” Karina whacks you over the head, causing you to drop the controller. “You’re such an ass.”

“You’re the one that wanted to play!” You glare, rubbing the spot. “It’s not my problem that you suck.”

“Shut up,” Karina puts you in a headlock, catching you off guard as you struggle to get out. “Say sorry.”

“What are you, five?” Her grip tightens at the sarcasm. “Okay okay, I’m sorry!”

Karina finally lets go, huffing as you glare. She grabs another unopened bottle, handing it to you without saying anything. You reluctantly open it, but not before taking a sip that she hits you again.

“Jesus christ,” You mutter once you give the bottle. “My neighbors are going to think I’m being abused.”

Karina rolls her eyes before standing up. You ask where she was going, and she answers that she was leaving. “It’s getting late. I better leave to catch the last train.”

“What?” You pull her back down before she could take a step. “Just stay the night. I’ll take the couch, you take the bed.” It’s a simple solution. You also don’t want Karina to leave yet. It’s been a while since you spent time alone together.

Karina contemplates it for a moment, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, please stay,” You nod, tilting your head towards your room, “Go change into some of my clothes.” Adding with an easy smile, “Just like old times.”

Karina laughs, shaking her head shyly, “Do I get to keep a hoodie or two?”

“Absolutely not,” You deadpan, bursting into laughter a second later as she trots to your room. “You have more than enough!” You yell after her, shaking your head.

It’s nice to be with Karina. Life has been busy, leaving little to no time to actually see each other. You hadn’t seen her in almost four months, and that was at her birthday dinner Minjeong planned. You texted here and there, but it was hard planning anything since she was in and out of the country.

Your best friend is a model for high fashion luxury brands. And, well, you’re just you, living a relatively normal life. She had a completely different lifestyle that associated her with a bunch of people in an industry you weren’t familiar with. When she caught her ‘big break,’ you were nothing but supportive.

Time was precious. Minjeong dying definitely taught you that hard lesson, so you’ll take whatever time you can with Karina before she’s off jet setting across the world again.

You realize that you’re drunk. Not tipsy. Flat out drunk. You glance at the empty bottles on the coffee table, counting them as you wait for Karina to return. There’s a couple unopened ones, which you’ll drink and you’ll call it a night. You don’t have any plans tomorrow, but you also don’t want to nurse a hangover. It gets harder to bounce back and be a functional member of society.

It could’ve been five minutes or thirty minutes, but the moment Karina walks back to the living room, your brain short circuits. You have to consciously close your mouth, jaw clenching as you take in her appearance. You have to also bite your tongue to halt whatever thoughts you’re having.

You’ve seen Karina wear all sorts of your clothes throughout the years. From shorts to pants to shirts to sweaters to jackets to whatever else was in your closet. You thought nothing of it before, but now you’re thinking everything of it.

Her outfit choice isn’t anything crazy, and you’ve seen her wear something like this before—sort of. She took one of your shirts, that would fit just right on you, but because you have a bit of height on her, it’s completely oversized. The shirt falls just past mid-thigh, and you couldn’t remember if the shirt was that big on you. You say this outfit is sort of similar because she usually paired it with shorts or sweats, but not this time.

All you see is skin, her skin, and you can’t help the way your eyes trail up her thigh, mind drifting if she’s wearing anything underneath.

You pray to the universe or whatever god she believed it that she is, because even the thought of nothing has your soul needing to be cleansed of the sins crossing your mind.

“Everything okay…?” Karina’s question snaps you out of you ogling her.

You clear your throat, nodding your head, “Yeah.” The word comes out a lot rougher than you expected. “Yeah,” You repeat, hoping it sounded a lot smoother.

(It didn’t.)

Karina apologizes for taking so long, explaining she took a quick shower to freshen up, as she reclaims her seat on the couch. You keep your eyes up, forcing yourself not to look down at the exposed skin.

“I didn’t even realize you were gone for that long,” You say sheepishly, bashfully looking away and you fuck up by looking down. The shirt’s still big on her, but it slightly slid up, showing more.

“Okay ass,” Karina rolls her eyes, swatting her hand playfully on your shoulder. “Go change. You have to be uncomfortable in that.” She gestures to your slacks and dress shirt. You took the tie off once she challenged you to a race.

You agree, standing, but not without ruffling her hair because you just want to annoy her. She curses at you as you walk away, dodging the couch pillow in the process.

You choose something simple—black sweats and black shirt. You decide to shower too because your hair feels oily and you need to wash away whatever that was in the living room. A cold shower too. To cool your body from the soju.

(That’s what you tell yourself anyways.)

You don’t take too long, but as you’re getting dressed, you hear a shriek from the kitchen. You run out from the room to Karina fumbling with the stove and water rolling over the small pot. You quickly notice the flames growing with each drop of water, and instinctively rush over, wrapping a strong arm around Karina to pull her away.

“Be careful,” You lightly scold her, shutting the stove off with Karina pressed against your side. “What were you doing?”

“I was hungry,” Karina’s arms rest on your chest, shaking her head. “I was looking for ramyun since I know you always have a supply of them.”

You roll your eyes, “I’ll grab it and make it for you.” You move to let Karina go, but she tenses in your arm. Your grip slackens, and there’s a wide-eyed expression on her face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Karina’s mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. She glances down and you realize why she’s suddenly frozen in your arm. When you heard the commotion, you completely dropped what you were doing, as in, you didn’t put a shirt on because you thought she hurt herself.

Clearly rationale goes out the window if Karina’s involved.

(It wouldn’t be the first time.

More on that later.)

“I—uh,” You stutter and drop your arm awkwardly, grabbing a kitchen towel to wipe the surface. “Sorry. I’ll clean this up and put a shirt on and make us food. Sit on the couch or do whatever.” It came out rushed, dismissive, embarrassed that you couldn’t look her in the eyes.

Karina’s seen you without a shirt before, but for some reason…

It was different.

Really different.

That you didn’t know what you were thinking or feeling.

-- --

“Oppa!” Minjeong yelled, grabbing your wrist. “There’s no point, he already left. Just let it go.”

“Fuck that. I’m going to beat his fucking ass.” You were upset. Actually, upset didn’t even describe it. You were livid. For a small woman, Minjeong was able to stop you, yanking your arm back to keep you from doing something stupid. “Minjeong, let go.” You said calmly, but you definitely weren’t.

Minjeong sighed, rolling her eyes. She didn’t let go, tightening her hand, “You ‘beating his ass’ or whatever,” She mocked and that added fuel to the fire, “Isn’t going to do anything.”

“It’s Karina’s birthday. How the fuck is he going to break up with her on her birthday?” You spat, frustrated with how the night was turning out.

“Jaewook’s an ass,” Minjeong emphasized, “We’ve known this. She knows this too. She wasn’t serious about him.”

“She’s fucking crying.” Your free hand gestured to where Karina was. Her face was buried in Yeji’s neck while Ryujin rubbed her back, consoling her. “Who the fuck does he think he is?”

“Look,” Minjeong slowly released her hand, gauging that you wouldn’t go anywhere, “It doesn’t matter.”

“It—”

Your childhood best friend cut you off, “It doesn’t. It really doesn’t. It was always going to happen, it just happened to be today. If you want to do something useful, go make Karina feel better.” Her hands gently rest on your shoulders, pushing you in said woman’s direction.

“What do I even say?” You asked, suddenly uncertain how to do something you had done before.

Minjeong shrugged, a teasing smile tugged at the corner of her lips, “You know her as well as I do. Maybe slightly less, but I digress. Now go. She most likely wants to see you.”

If it were any other time, you would ask what Minjeong meant by that. Given the circumstances, there was no time to elaborate.

You walked up to the trio, and Yeji noticed you first, tilting her head curiously. Ryujin turned around, tapping Karina lightly on the shoulder that she did the same.

“Um, hey.” You scratched the back of your head, a well-known habit you did whenever you were uncomfortable. “Can we talk?”

Karina wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve, nodding. Some telepathic conversation happened between her and Yeji, that she gave Karina one last squeeze before she took your hand in hers.

You guided her through the crowd and out of the bar, the cool air from the night hitting your face. It oddly felt suffocating in there, but you rationalized it was because of the amount of people.

This breath of fresh air was exactly what you needed.

You walked a bit, away from the entrance of the bar with Karina’s hand still in yours. To anyone passing by, it would look like you were a couple. That happened a lot. Even your own friends (Minjeong included) thought you were secretly dating, but you and Karina vehemently denied such rumors.

“I’m sorry for ruining the night,” Karina said softly, voice slightly raspy as you passed by a coffee shop. “I didn’t think I’d react like that.”

You gave her a confused look, legs stopping on the sidewalk as you turned to face her. “Wait, why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Karina forced a smile, eyes looking down like she was being scolded by her parents. “I meant to end things before tonight, but with work, I haven’t been around.” With the recent signing with an agency, she had been traveling in and out of the country. You yourself had hardly seen her, only knowing what’s going on from Minjeong. “I just didn’t think it’d hit me this hard. Another failed relationship to add to my belt.” She said bitterly, biting her lip and you saw how hard she was trying to keep it together.

Without much thought and since you were still holding hands, you pulled her into a hug. It took her by surprise as her arms stayed limply at her sides. You weren’t the same height anymore—at a least tall enough to rest your chin on her head—so Karina fit perfectly against you. Her body trembled, face burying into your chest, and you didn’t mind that there would be tear stains on your shirt.

What you did mind was how she was feeling. She had always been hung up on dating once you graduated high school. Minjeong told her to just be patient while you never understood the sudden change. It wasn’t like finding suitors was hard for her, but you witnessed that keeping them was the problem.

(A problem you couldn’t solve.)

“It’ll happen,” You mumbled, holding her tighter, “I don’t know when, but it will. If it makes you feel any better, Mina dumped me because I was, according to her, emotionally unavailable.”

That comment made Karina giggle. She looked up, meeting your gaze, “But you are. You like Minjeong.” Something flashed in her eyes as she said that, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“Yeah I do,” You shrugged. “But I like you too. So if some punk like Jaewook couldn’t see how great you are, his loss.”

Karina’s arms wrapped around your waist, “Stop,” She whined, embarrassed at the sudden compliment. “You’re making me blush.”

“Good,” You nodded. You didn’t know what you were going to accomplish by pulling her away from the party, but you were glad you did.

“Wait,” Karina tilted her head back again, “You didn’t go after him right?”

You gave a sheepish smile, “I may or may not have tried.” Karina slapped your lower back, followed by a small pinch. “Okay I tried, but Minjeong stopped me.”

“What have I told you about getting into fights? You never listen to me.” Karina huffed, unwrapping her arms before stepping backwards, crossing them over her chest.

(You ignored how you wanted to pull her back in.)

“I didn’t get into one,” You retorted, raising an eyebrow.

“But you would have.”

“It would’ve been for you!” You reasoned as Karina started walking away, shaking her head.

“I know,” Karina said once you caught up, shoving you off balance. “You’re still the same as when we were kids.”

“When it comes to you? Absolutely. That’ll never change.”

-- --

You place the tray on the coffee table. Two bowls of ramyun along with a plate filled with whatever sides you had. You even cooked an egg since you know that’s how she liked it.

“Thanks,” Karina sends you a small smile, reaching for the utensils.

It’s just a tad awkward. After the ordeal in the kitchen, you went to put a shirt on and prepared a quick meal. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to satisfy a drunken craving.

You eat in silence, the only sound is the slurping of noodles and the occasional blowing to cool them. You’re at a loss for words because as much as you want to say something, your mind is elsewhere.

It fell into uncharted territory, a place you didn’t know existed, hidden from you until you absolutely had to find it. You couldn’t figure out if that consciously or subconsciously, but all you know is that however you felt for Minjeong doesn’t compare to what you’re feeling for Karina. You can discern that it’s the same, but different. It’s more intense, more intentional, just more.

(Maybe you’re just drunk, but don’t people say that when you’re drunk, it magnifies feelings you already have?)

You finish eating at the same time, awkwardly smiling before you stand to clean up. Karina doesn’t let you though, instructing you to relax since you did everything. “It’s only fair,” She says quietly.

As Karina puts things away, you grab an unopened bottle off the table. You doubt alcohol will help you understand what exactly you’re feeling, but it’ll keep them at bay.

(Or it won’t. Who really knows at this point.)

Your body feels warm, especially your cheeks. You hardly pay any attention to what Karina’s doing, but keep an ear out in case something happens again. You’re lost in your thoughts that you don’t feel the couch cushion dip, but Karina’s arm brushing against your arm snaps you out.

“You okay?” Karina bites her lip, that the thought she’s cute crosses your mind.

“Ye-ah.” The word gets stuck, turning a one-syllable word into two. “Should we finish these, and then go to bed?”

More alcohol sounds like a bad idea, but there isn’t anyone to stop you. Plus, you couldn’t let it go to waste.

Karina nods, and you sense a question coming, but she doesn’t ask anything. She instead tells you a bit of her current project, somewhere in Paris, and how she just left without any warning. Her manager was pissed, but she didn’t care. She needed to return to Korea and be here for this. For you is what she meant, but you’d never know that.

“Are they mad?” You ask out of curiosity. Karina barely spoke about her job with you so this would be the first time you hear it from her.

Chuckling, “No. They understand where I’m coming from, and even if they took me off, I couldn’t care about it. This is more important.”

What you heard was Karina being a good friend, a good daughter, to be there in this serious time, but you felt she meant that you were more important than her job. It could be your imagination, making something out of nothing.

You are an important person in Karina’s life, but not that important. You didn’t see yourself as someone that had that much of a presence in her life. Maybe when you were younger, but as you grew up, you both had different friends.

(But you had always been there for each other.)

Whatever weirdness that was there, vanished, poof. It was as if whatever formed wasn’t there, but you’d bet your life that it was. The moment passed, but you were stuck.

The conversation shifts into something light, easy, blatantly ignoring the tension that hung over you as you spoke about your job and the mundanity of it. Karina listens. She always does with such attention that you had never seen her give anyone else. She hung on every word, eyes always on you as if you were the only two people in the room.

You’re not keeping track of time as you talk. It’s easy talking about whatever crosses your mind without worrying about what you’re saying. Karina knows you, never judging but always quick to call you out when you’re wrong. You valued her opinion the most so you listened.

“Where was Jennie?” The question catches you off guard, not expecting that name to come out of Karina’s mouth. They didn’t get along. Cordial for your sake, but you heard it from Jennie and Minjeong that they didn’t like each other.

You thought they’d have a lot in common. They’re both models, so it made sense that they’d have something to talk about. They knew of each other, but never worked together.

You also thought the first time they met, introducing Jennie to both Karina and Minjeong, went well. They seemed friendly, laughing a lot from what you heard.

That was not the case.

Minjeong said that Karina said that Jennie was not worthy of your time and attention as Jennie said that Karina liked you, pretty much in love with you. You didn’t know what she was talking about because you had never seen Karina that way nor had she ever acted like she saw you more than a friend. You had seen Karina in relationships, and how she was with them wasn’t like that with you.

It was a point of contention in your relationship. Jennie accused you of using her to make Karina jealous. You called her delusional because there was no way Karina could ever see you that way, no possibility of that happening because your best friend was out of your league. Hell, you didn’t even play the same sport so there was no competition.

“Ah, well we broke up a month or so ago,” You say vaguely. You didn’t feel the need to go into detail about why. “It was mutual. Things just weren’t working out.”

“What?” Karina turns to face you. “What does that mean?”

What happened was Jennie was going away for longer and longer periods of time. You knew what you signed up for, but within the past few months, she’d take on more projects. You learned she was avoiding you after she saw you and Karina from a distance, as she said she had never seen you look at her like that. When you asked what she meant, she couldn’t explain it. She just said it was different, and you denied having any feelings for Karina, which she chuckled at. She agreed that maybe you didn’t, but she couldn’t bear to find out.

You were stumped after she left, leaving you alone in your apartment, staring at the door. You didn’t know what to even say because Jennie had it so wrong. You liked Minjeong.

Right?

You couldn’t let it rest. So you decided you’d tell Minjeong how you felt, to prove to Jennie that who you actually liked was Minjeong—not Karina, definitely not Karina.

You would never know now. Minjeong was gone, and any chance of learning if she felt the same was impossible. The ‘what if’ kind of situation if things hadn’t happened the way it did.

“Scheduling and all that,” You tell a partial truth, figuring getting into that right now would reveal something you’re not ready to admit. “I’m not hurt about it. It was easy to move on.”

(Would you ever move on from Minjeong? That question lingered in your mind.

Unless…)

Karina doesn’t believe you, but she accepts it, still saying I’m sorry as you finish what’s left in your bottle. You tilt your head all the way back and when you’re done, she’s doing the same.

“Would you have ever told Minjeong how you felt?” Karina asks quietly, eyes focused on the bottle as her hands fidget.

“I was going to,” You say simply as her eyes widen in surprise. You take that as a sign to continue, “I think after my last conversation with Jennie, I needed to know. I planned to tell her that day, but now it’ll just remain a mystery.”

You aren’t prepared for the next words that come out of her mouth, “So pretend I’m her and tell me.”

“Karina, what?” Shocked at how easily she said it, as if it was just telling her what day of the week it is. “What’re you saying?”

“Tell me what you would’ve told her,” Karina paraphrases it, but it isn’t making sense why she’d suggest it. “What’s the big deal?”

“Uh, that’s personal,” You argue. She raised an eyebrow, calling your lie. She’s heard it all throughout the years, but this time, it felt like something you had to keep from her.

“What’s different telling me now than all the other times you have before?”

Karina’s right.

It shouldn’t be different, but your gut tells you it is. That whatever you say now is actually meant for her.

“Come on,” Karina continues, grabbing your wrist in her hand. “You telling me won’t change the outcome.” She’s not wrong, but it doesn’t feel right either. “Think of it as a way to get everything off your chest.”

You hesitate. Your anxiety spikes. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you actually consider it. You’re scared that you’re going to say something you’re not prepared to admit.

Emotions are high. Being drunk makes it hard to regulate them, let alone understand what you’re exactly feeling. And you go back to Karina’s current outfit, which doesn’t have you thinking clearly to begin with.

It’s a split second choice, but you relent, deciding that whatever you’re feeling is how you truly feel. Maybe it’s the soju. Maybe it’s Karina. Maybe—ultimately—it’s a sobering realization that you’ve actually fooled yourself all these years. Jennie was right.

You were—are—in love with the woman in front of you.

But she’s telling you to confess how you felt about Minjeong when that never existed. Minjeong was still your best friend, but you quickly realize just how different your relationships with each woman were.

Karina tugs your sleeve, breaking you out of your thoughts. She tilts her head, concern etching her eyebrows closer. “I mean you don’t have to.

“I…” You trail off. “Okay,” Nodding, “I’ll tell you, but take me seriously.”

“When do I not?” Karina smiles, nodding. She swings her legs up, causing your gaze to drift down, as she crosses one over the other.

You couldn’t believe you’re doing this, but here goes nothing. You hope she doesn’t read between the lines for once.

“So I have something to tell you,” You start because even though you rehearsed it a thousand times for Minjeong, this is the first time for Karina. You have no idea how to say it and your current state of mind isn’t making it easy. Her gaze is unwavering, adding more pressure. “I’m…”

“You’re…” Karina gives you a soft smile, knowing where the sentence is going, but unknowing that this is to her.

“In love with you,” You admit out loud for the first time and for yourself. You decide to keep it short because there’s just too much going on in your head. “I don’t have much else to say, but yeah, I’m in love with you.”

Karina’s jaw drops, eyes squinting as you don’t say anything else. “That’s it?”

“Well, yeah?” You didn’t feel the weight leave your chest the moment you said those few words. If anything, the weight got heavier, pressing harder.

“There’s no way. You’ve told me way more than that,” Karina argues, scooting closer that her leg brushes yours. “You’re hiding something.”

“What could I possibly be hiding?” You snap, moving your leg because physical contact is not what you need right now.

“I don’t know,” Karina shrugs, “But there’s something you’re not telling me.” You couldn’t say much, so you stayed quiet. That was enough for further questions, or from your point of view, demands. “Tell me.”

“I told you I’m in love with you,” You say easier, more confidently, more sure. “What else is there to know?”

“Present tense?” Stupid semantics. “You’re in love with me?” Karina points to herself, as if she’s clarifying your statement.

What did you have to lose? Oh, that’s right, her. You never got to the what happens after part in your head since you were still comprehending what’s happening now.

“Yes,” Here goes nothing, “I’m in love with you. I think it was always you, not Minjeong, that I actually had feelings for. You’re one of the best people I know and I’m grateful for you in my life. I’m starting to realize that if there’s anyone I’ve ever lost my mind for, it was you.”

You look away, shy and embarrassed for saying all that. Karina stares at the side of your face, and you don’t know what she’s thinking. Your body feels warm, and you couldn’t blame the alcohol. The room’s quiet, tension thickening the longer she doesn’t say anything.

“You’re in love with me,” Karina repeats, unsure that she has to say it to herself to make sure she’s not dreaming.

“I mean, yeah, I think? I’m a bit drunk but you’re making me feel things I’ve never felt,” Biting your lip, “Maybe acknowledged is the better word.”

When you look up, Karina’s lips catch yours and you light up. Your body goes from warm to hot, burning at the sensation of her. Her arms fall on your shoulders, steadying herself as she lets out a sigh against your lips. Body pressed against you as you sink into the couch.

“You have no idea,” Karina breathes out, air hot on your lips, “How much I’ve wanted to hear that.”

As you start to move your lips, Karina pulls away. You go to chase her, but her hands firmly keep you in place. Your body tenses, hands twitching at the need to have her close again, but you stay.

“And if I loved you back? What then?” Karina asks, voice transforming into something you’ve never heard—or better, experienced. It sends a shiver down your spine, and she smirks as your jaw clenches. “Well?”

“Do you? Do you love me?” You don’t recognize your own voice as the words leave your mouth.

“You’re an idiot,” Karina leans forward and pecks you sweetly on the cheek. “Completely oblivious,” She murmurs against your skin, lips ghosting your ear. You lose it when her teeth nip at your earlobe. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”

You’re about to respond when Karina places her index finger on your lips. You kiss it, eyes slowly meeting hers once you get to the tip. “Prove it.”

Karina’s expression darkens, and you’re fucked. It goes straight to your cock as it stirs underneath your sweats. “Let’s go.” She stands, taking you with her, “You’ll eat your words soon enough.”

You want to eat her out, but you’ll see what she does first.

Karina drags you to your room. A lot of thoughts cross your mind, and your imagination runs wild. You aren’t, however, prepared to be guided to sit on the chair across your bed. You typically used this piece of furniture as a placeholder for your clothes that you were too lazy to put in the laundry basket. It was in the bathroom, but some days, you were exhausted.

A finger tilts your gaze to meet Karina’s, heat shoots through your body. Her eyes are glazed over, hooded with lust as she watches you like prey. “I’ll show you,” She murmurs, “Watch me.”

Her wish is your command as she slowly leans back, fingernail lightly scratching on your chin. She glances at your crotch, smirking at the pitched tent poking through. You weren’t small by any means, well above the average, that there was no way to hide it.

“Keep your hands here,” Karina guides them to the arm rest, “Don’t move.” What she says, you do. She kisses you softly, tongue trailing against your lips. You groan when she pulls away, eyes filled with mirth.

“You know…” Karina trails off, slowly walking backwards, “I’ve wondered what you’d feel like.” Her knees hit the bed, playfully laying down. “Especially after you slept with Yeji.” There’s a slight tinge of jealousy in her tone.

It was a one time thing. Yeji wanted to get dinner after midterms, and you were the one willing while everyone else wanted to sleep. You didn’t know how it happened, but you ended up in bed with Yeji to blow off steam. Obviously Karina and Minjeong found out. The latter chuckled while the former gave you the cold shoulder for a whole week. She couldn’t believe you’d sleep with her best friend, and you didn’t see the big deal. You were single regardless of your feelings for Minjeong, you had needs.

Karina props herself on her elbows, legs spreading that the shirt (your shirt) hikes up, exposing more and more of her skin. “She literally would not shut up about you for a week.”

It’s a vague memory since it happened so long ago, and you remember getting teased by the group. You had no idea Yeji was so vocal about it.

You watch the way Karina trails her finger down your shirt, pausing at the hem before you meet her eyes once again. “Naturally, I could not stop thinking about you for a week and then some.” Adding slowly, “She was very detailed.”

In a subtle move, her hand slips underneath, knees falling open like a book and you sharply inhale when the action confirms what you had been wondering since she walked out of your room.

“Karina,” You growl, but you don’t move. She told you to stay, but your body is practically screaming to pounce.

“Bet you weren’t expecting this,” Karina teases, eyes fluttering as she swipes a finger lightly through her folds. “I wasn’t expecting anything to happen, but… I’m glad I’m comfortable.”

Then it starts.

You’ve had thoughts about Karina before, especially as a teenager. Guilt washed over you anytime you thought of her like that. She was your best friend. It was slightly hypocritical to say since you could say the same about Minjeong, but there was something different about Karina. She was the type of girl you could never get close to. Untouchable in that sense, and it may have annoyed you whenever someone did get close to her in a way you never would.

Until now.

You watch, nearly holding your breath, as Karina touches herself. It doesn’t help your downstairs situation when her eyes are focused on you the whole time. You’re witnessing first hand how Karina pleasures herself, and you want nothing more than to be an active participant.

“How you holding up there, buddy?” Karina teases, the whites of her eyes making a brief appearance as she rubs her clit. You don’t realize how hard you’re gripping the armrest nor do you realize how much your body leans forward to get a better view. “Yeji said you were thick.” Your cock practically throbbed at that statement. “I better stretch myself out, no?”

It happens instantaneously. The moment Karina slips one finger in, she lets out the hottest moan you’ve ever heard.

“Jimin.” You could spontaneously combust.

“I’m, like, really tight,” Karina says casually, as if this could be said in typical conversation. “Be a good boy and let me see what I’ll be working with.”

You nearly rip your sweats down, cock springing out from the confines of the fabric that was holding it together. You don’t miss the way Karina’s eyes widen nor do you miss the way she adds another finger, gasping before she draws out a moan.

“Okay,” Karina pants, staring intensely at your length. “Yeah, I’m going to need some help.” She raises her other hand, gesturing you to come join her on the bed.

You kick off your sweats on the way over, leaving you naked from the waist down. The offending piece of clothing discarded somewhere on the floor as you kneel in between her legs. You’re salivating at the sight of her and all her naked glory. Her pussy’s shaved, clean, very well kept that your imagination called that. It did not, however, imagine how wet she would be.

You dip your head, but Karina grabs your hair before you could do anything. A pathetic groan escapes your mouth and she laughs.

“Hold on, lover boy,” Karina says coyly, tilting your head away. “I still want you to watch me.”

“You’re a fucking tease,” You breathe out, mesmerized by the way she pumps her fingers inside her. Her walls are sucking them in, and you feel yourself leaking at the tip.

“I have to, a little bit,” Karina pants as she grazes over her clit, “I’ve had years of this building.”

Her pace quickens, which her shirt rides up, revealing her well-endowed chest. They’re not huge, but you wanted to see how they’d feel in your hands.

Her back bows suddenly, pushing her breasts forward, letting gravity push them as her orgasm washes over her. You can’t help yourself, but your hand wraps around your cock, moaning as you finally give yourself some attention.

“God,” Karina breathes out once her orgasm subsides, body relaxing into the bed. “Okay, none of that.” She flicks your forehead.

“Come on,” You pout, release your cock before you could do anything.

“No.” Karina cups your jaw, trailing her thumb along your bottom lip. “Sit against the headboard.”

“Karina.” You’re flat out horny for the woman in front of you. Being in between her legs and not eating her out is a crime.

“Do as I say,” Karina caresses your cheek, affectionately, sweetly, like she has you right where she wants you.

You relent, huffing, but not without being a little shit as you blow against her clit. Her knees come together, trapping you there, at the sudden stimulation, body still sensitive from her quick orgasm.

“Fuck you,” Karina groans as she pushes your face away. “Now go sit.”

You crawl on your bed, momentarily pausing above Karina’s face. She watches you curiously, head tilting to the side as you slowly bring her into a chaste kiss. You don’t bother taking it further as her lips simply feel nice against yours. Though, her squirming beneath you has you smiling.

You follow her directions, settling against the headboard with your legs wide as Karina turns over. She sits on her knees, calculating her next move, which results in her hand on your thigh. “You know…” Trailing off as her nails lightly trace over your skin.

“Not again,” Your lungs have seemed to stop working as her hand moves closer to where you want her most. You have to force yourself to breathe.

An airy chuckle falls from her lips as they turn upward. Her finger faintly touches your cock, causing your body to jerk.

“So… Sensitive,” Karina states matter-of-factly. You hold your breath as she leans forward. Her breath ghosts your tip, that’s embarrassingly leaking. You almost want to push her head down, but you’re slightly scared she’ll stop if you don’t obey her orders. “You’re a lot… bigger up close. Maybe even the biggest? It’s hard for me to say.”

You’d rather not hear about Karina’s previous lovers. She has never told you about it explicitly. At least to what you would imagine she’d say to Yeji or Giselle. She doesn’t seem to pick up on the jealousy, and if she does, she doesn’t acknowledge it, continuing with this torture.

Karina pushes herself up, face up close to yours that you’re realizing how beautiful she is. “What?” Her hand snakes around to your neck as her other rests on your chest. Her weight presses into you that you freeze when your cock brushes against her stomach. “Don’t look at me like that,” She laughs nervously, eyes darting away.

“Hard not to,” You gulp, raising your arms to hold her waist. She tilts her head down just enough that her lips brush against yours.

And a chord inside you breaks.

You pull her body in, bringing your lips together as she moans softly into your mouth. Her tongue swipes on your lower lip, and you comply, granting her access fully. It’s all teeth and tongue, wrestling, fighting for dominance.

Karina wins the moment a soft, small hand wraps around your cock. It catches you off guard, groaning into her as she slowly moves up and down.

“Fuck,” Karina rubs her palm over the tip, collecting whatever’s leaked to spread all over your length. “I can barely wrap my fingers around you.”

You know. You feel it in the way she slightly squeezes, like she needs to get a better grip. It’s dizzying how she moves so fluidly with every flick of the wrist. You’re losing yourself with her lips moving easily, taking whatever you give her.

You want to give her the universe at this point.

“Can I?” Karina murmurs against your lips, picking up the pace of her stroke.

“Can you what?” Your eyes roll back.

“Put my mouth on you.”

You groan again, nodding eagerly as she lowers her head. You’re entrance at the way her tongue sticks out, extending the slightest as she licks your tip. “Holy shit.” The first contact of her on you has you reeling.

A pretty smirk paints her pretty face as she languidly moves her tongue over your length, not leaving any part untouched. It’s embarrassing how fast you feel yourself coming apart. You haven’t even had the full experience of her mouth around you—

“Fuck.” You spoke too soon because her mouth engulfs your tip that your hand shoots to her head, gripping her hair as you try to have some kind of control.

By accident, or not, you push Karina’s head down, enough to the point where your cock hits the back of her throat. The action triggers her gag reflex, forcing her off.

“Okay relax,” Karina says sharply after she gasps for air, a little bit of saliva sticking on her chin. “I think I’ll need to practice.”

“Then fucking practice,” You snarl, eagerly waiting for her to continue.

Karina shakes her head as she rocks to her heels, swinging a leg over yours. She’s suddenly seated on your lap, and her hips rock the slightest, pussy brushing over your cock. Your hands wrap around her waist, pulling her back. It elicits a gasp followed by a sigh as she rests her arms around your neck.

“Later,” Karina’s hands slip behind her when you feel her fingers wrap around your cock, lightly slapping it against her clit. “I want this—”

“Condom!” You grip her body as she slowly lowers herself, a hot warmth engulfing the tip.

“What?” A frustrated sigh leaves her lips as she raises her hips. You hold in the whimper as your cock leaves her body. “Why?”

“I just want to be safe?” It lacks confidence, making it sound more like a question.

“Eh?” She looks like she wants to rip your head off. She seemed very determined to get you inside her, to feel all of you, but you were taking the one thing she desired for. “You’re fucking weird, but I don’t care. You’ll let me take it off at some point.”

“Doubtful,” You say weakly, watching that same determination increase across her features.

She’s going to ruin you.

You reach into your nightstand, conveniently having a box of condoms ready. Karina rolls her eyes at the easy access, but hey, you have a healthy sex life and you didn’t need a bunch of little yous running around.

Within seconds, you tear the wrapper, rolling the offending piece of material over your length. Karina scoffs, shaking her head, as you toss the trash on the floor.

“You did that fast,” Karina mocks, shifting her hips back to the original position. “You’ll wish you didn’t put one on.”

You’re about to make a crude remark, but Karina moves without warning, hand guiding your cock in the apex of her thighs. You feel the warmth radiating over the condom as her pussy wraps around the tip.

“Karina,” Your hands grip her hips, steadying her. “You’re so tight.” You moan through gritted teeth.

“My fingers aren’t that big,” Karina sighs at the intrusion. “Your dick, however, is.”

The statement goes to the aforementioned organ and you can’t wait. You drag her down your length, bullying through her walls. The sensation overwhelms you, choking out a breath as she stops halfway.

“It’s too much,” She’s trying to breathe, but a pained expression stops you.

You have to control your body, your hips, your hormones—everything. You want to lose yourself in her, which you’re just about there, but you care more about her comfort.

“I could just eat you out or something,” You offer. Her pussy contracts at the statement, eliciting a moan.

Karina shakes her head, teeth biting into her bottom lip, “No, I can take you. Just,” She breathes out, “Give me a moment.”

You don’t want this moment to last for too long because your cock is throbbing, but you grin and bear it.

You don’t want to admit Karina’s right, but your mind goes haywire at the thought of how this experience would feel without a condom. It’s a lot through the condom.

“Okay,” Karina says more to herself, mentally preparing as she gently rocks her hips. The motion steals a sharp moan as she takes more of your length. “For fucks sake.”

Your first mistake was looking at where you’re joined. The sight of half your cock being swallowed by her pussy has you at a loss for words.

Your second mistake was your hips jerking upward, accidentally forcing her to take more of you. Her legs spread wider, welcoming the intrusion as she inches closer to the base.

It takes a few more minutes and a few more rocks of her hips that she’s fully wrapped around you.

Hot.

Tight.

Warm.

You would like to say you have an extensive vocabulary, but you couldn’t find the words. You’re speechless, when you’re known to have a mouth. One of the things Karina finds the most annoying about you. She could never get you to shut up, yet she finally has—in the hottest way possible.

“Bet you want to take off the condom,” Karina murmurs, teeth nipping at your jaw as your head slowly tilts back. Your body shives once her lips kiss your neck, tongue soothing whatever mark in its wake.

“I don’t want to get you pregnant.”

Karina chuckles, lips curling up against your skin, “It’s called birth control, a part of modern medicine. I’m safe, but it would be a thrill to find out if you could.” Her pussy tightens at her words, sending a shock through your cock that has your mind blank at the thought of that.

“Karina,” You warn, hands tightening around her waist. The temptation is too great. The chances of her getting pregnant are low, but still. You couldn’t let your morals go, as much as you wanted to.

Karina rips your shirt off, head slipping through before she haphazardly tosses it over her shoulder. You’re completely naked and her eyes devour your physique.

“I knew you were fit,” Karina’s nails lightly trace over your abdomen, muscles flexing at her touch, “But I didn’t know you were this fit.”

Your hips snap up once her finger brushes over her clit, jolting her body forward. “Stop with the teasing or let me just fuck—okay, okay.” She rolls her hips down, sending your favorite body part into sensation overload.

“Watch me,” Karina commands softly and you comply, eyes watching her as the anticipation builds. Sweat drips down the back of your neck as she tugs her shirt off, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“You look so fucking pretty.” You stare at Karina in awe, struck by her beauty and, well, her bare chest. You’re on even playing fields, but you were still at her mercy.

Karina smiles as she lifts herself slightly, dragging her walls along your length before dropping down. She lets out a breath, biting her lip as she repeats the motion.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Intentional.

As if her one goal is for you to lose your fucking mind.

You already lost it the moment you felt her warmth wrap around you, but this? This is different.

You do as she says, watching her body move fluidly over you, working your length in and out of her body, ensuring that no part of her goes untouched. It’s damn near a spiritual experience that your arms lift to hold onto your hips, to make sure you aren’t dreaming, but she pins your arms above your head against the headboard.

“No,” Karina says roughly, voice thick with want as her pace increases, hips undulating that has your body on fire. “I’m in control.”

“Jagiya.” The nickname slips out after a particularly jolting thrust. “Please.” You whimper, head tilting back hard against the headboard. There’s going to be a bruise, but you couldn’t care less.

It’s difficult to pay attention to the pain when you have someone like Karina on top of you, doing the most ungodly and deprived things to you, as if she has something to prove.

Karina’s pace gradually increases, forcing her to let go and tethering her hands on your shoulders, nails digging into your skin. The pain adds to the pleasure and you can’t help but moan after every thrust.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Karina says through her teeth, biting her lip to muffle her moans. “I wish you didn’t put the fucking condom on.” And you agree. You shouldn’t have, but you’re absolutely certain that you would not last if you felt all of her without it.

“I’m sorry,” You mumble, hands finding her hips to guide her movement. “Do you want to—”

Shaking her head, Karina breathes out, “No, too late. I’m going to—fuck.”

Karina suddenly crashes her lips against yours, arms pulling your neck into her as she lets out a broken moan. Her body seizes in your hold, back arching that her breasts press against your chest. Then what follows has you gripping her hips tightly as her pussy tightens rhythmically on your cock.

Her orgasm wracks through her body to you that you throw everything she has commanded of you so far out the metaphorical window. You finally take control, thrusting up into her body as she screams at the overstimulation.

“C’mon baby,” You murmur, burying your face into her neck. “Keep going,” You goad, spurring her on as her body trembles. “Keep coming for me.”

“God, yes,” Karina cries followed by a choked sob, slamming her hips against yours. “Yes, yes, yes,” She repeats like a mantra, a prayer to take her over the edge again.

It’s all too much for you, that small pit in your lower abdomen growing. Your orgasm is right behind hers and by some divine intervention, you’re able to tell her. It triggers something because she suddenly lifts her body off, ripping the condom off before two hands wrap around your cock.

“Cum all over me, you know you want to,” Karina says seductively, stroking her hands up and down over your cock.

And you’ve been obedient from the start, why stop now?

You explode without much warning, letting out the deepest growl as Karina aims your cock over her chest. Her face lights up once the thick ropes of your essence shoot out. It’s a lot, but it doesn’t deter her in the slightest. She welcomes it, even sticking out her tongue as a bit of it hits her chin. Your vision goes white, too overwhelmed with the intensity and pleasure flooding your body.

“Jagiya,” You whimper, fingers circling her wrist as she keeps going. “It’s too much—fuck.” She eventually stops, leaving you fucked out and empty. You’re in a daze, not cognizant of what she’s doing. You moan, eyes shooting open when her lips place a soft kiss on the tip.

Karina chuckles softly, shaking her head as a small smile tugs at her lips. She leans away, and you wish you had your camera nearby. It’s a sight to behold of you painted all over her body. It’s a mess, but what a beautiful one.

“Next time,” Karina says lowly, eyes narrowing, “You’re going to cum inside me.”

You agree like an idiot willing to risk everything for her. She giggles, rolling her eyes, since your ability to form a coherent sentence is limited. “Yes ma’am,” Is all you can manage to say with her still on top of you before your eyes close, heavy with exhaustion.

The last thing you remember is Karina’s lips on your cheek, smiling as sleep inevitably takes over.

-- --

You wake up relaxed and content. For the first time since the accident, you see the light at the end of the tunnel and it’s all thanks to Karina. Sex aside, you’re more sure of how you feel and everything you ever felt for Minjeong was how you actually felt for Karina.

You didn’t know how to broach the subject of you and her, but you were confident that you’d be able to. You were sure there would be arguments, but that was just how you spoke to each other. When it boiled down to it, you and Karina were more than understanding when the other was involved.

(You wouldn’t admit it, but when it came to Karina, you took everything seriously.)

You don’t notice it at first, but after scratching the sleep from your eyes, you realize that the other side of your bed is empty and neatly made. You vaguely remember waking up in the middle of the night to Karina nestled into your side before falling back asleep.

Except for a folded note on the pillow.

You sit up slowly, stretching the aches from last night’s activities before grabbing the small piece of paper. You figured Karina had to leave early, briefly remembering she had a flight back to Paris.

But as soon as you read the familiar handwriting, your heart sinks.

Last night was a mistake.

It shouldn’t have happened.

I’m sorry.

-- -- –

(i, too, am sorry. there will be a sequel tho, that much i can guarantee. when? idk, but thank you for reading, lolz)

#aespa smut #aespa karina #aespa yu jimin #aespa yoo jimin #karina smut #yu jimin smut #yoo jimin smut #yu jimin #yoo jimin

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littlegochu · 18 days ago

Note

could you plz do a personal trainer taehyung one shot (considering he’s all buffed out rn). imagine he’s your gym crush and you finally get around to asking for pointers and there’s juicy tension

gym crush │ kth 18+

pairing: kim taehyung x reader

genre: gym crush au, fluff, strangers to flirty friends, slice of life

rating: 18+ (explicit content — sexual themes)

synopsis: kim taehyung—known for his silence, his sculpted arms, and the fact that no one’s ever gotten close enough to say more than two words to him.

until me.

i wasn’t trying to get his attention. i was trying not to drop my weights or accidentally pass out mid-squat. but for some reason, he noticed me. corrected my form. watched me like he meant to.

now we train together. he doesn’t talk much. doesn’t flirt. doesn’t even smile unless he’s mid-set and i say something sarcastic. but he’s close. too close. and every glance feels like it means something i’m not ready to admit.

they say he doesn’t get attached. but his hands linger. his eyes stay.

set 1: the myth

every girl on campus has a kim taehyung story.

not like real stories. not like “i hooked up with him” or “we matched on tinder.” more like “i saw him bench press 180 with one hand.” or “he looked at me once in the mirror and i haven’t known peace since.”

he’s quiet. never with a group. never at parties. he’s in third-year psych like me, but i’ve never seen him in class. only ever here—shirtless in the weight room, hair pushed back with a bandana, jawline sharp enough to make you rethink every decision you've ever made.

girls flirt with him. he never flirts back. guys nod at him. he never nods back. he’s polite, but distant. beautiful, but untouchable. the kind of boy who could ruin you with a glance and walk away without ever noticing.

i don’t stare. not really. just... occasionally. softly. from a safe distance.

because everyone stares. but he’s never stared back. not until today.

set 2: eyes

i’m squatting in front of the mirror. deep into my fourth rep, knees burning, headphones loud enough to drown out my inner monologue.

and i feel it.

the burn? yes. but also him.

i glance up.

he’s looking straight at me. arms crossed. leaning against the cable machine like he’s sculpted out of shadow and sunlight. his mouth is set. eyes dark. completely unreadable.

i falter.

he doesn’t look away.

i blink. look back down. try to pretend my heart isn’t sprinting faster than my max on the treadmill.

when i sneak another look up—he’s gone.

set 3: "you done w that machine?"

“you done using the machine?”

i look up. he’s standing right there. taller than i remember. realer. sweat still clinging to the edges of his collarbones like it lives there on purpose.

my brain flatlines for a second. he’s talking to me.

i blink once. maybe twice. “uh—yeah. yeah, sorry. go ahead.”

he doesn’t move. doesn’t sit down. just lets his gaze sweep over the machine, then back to me. “you train here often?”

i blink again. was that a line?

“…sometimes,” i say slowly. “you?”

his mouth twitches like it wants to smile, but he doesn’t let it. “haven’t seen you before.”

my heart stumbles. “i come at different times.”

he nods. “maybe that’s why.”

i shift to the side, still unsure if this is small talk or some kind of interrogation. he’s just standing there. not using the machine. not looking away.

and then he adds, voice low, “your form was good.”

i laugh, mostly out of nerves. “what, you check everyone's form or just mine?”

he shrugs, but his eyes stay on me. “just yours.”

my lungs give out for a second. and before i can even think of a comeback— he walks off.

set 4: tension

he doesn’t speak to me again. not right away. but he’s near.

too near.

next to me at the squat rack. behind me during rows. his sets always line up with mine now, like we orbit the same routine.

i catch him watching me in the mirror once. not for long. just long enough to notice. and when i look back—he doesn’t flinch. doesn’t pretend.

he just keeps watching.

set 5: the touch

it’s small. innocent, probably.

i drop my towel. reach to grab it. his hand gets there first.

he holds it out to me, gaze steady.

i mutter, “thanks.”

our fingers brush when i take it. not on purpose. not quite accidental either. his hand is warm. bigger than i thought. veins sharp against his wrist.

he watches me too closely as i wrap the towel over my shoulder.

"careful," he says, like it's an afterthought. but his voice is low. almost amused.

“for what?”

he lifts a brow. “getting used to me.”

and then—again—he walks away.

set 6: the offer

“train with me.”

i don’t turn right away. i need to breathe. he doesn’t sound like he’s joking. he never sounds like he’s joking.

when i glance over, he’s already setting up weights beside mine. like it’s not a question. like he already knows i’ll say yes.

“why?”

“you don’t talk too much.” he shrugs. “i like that.”

i snort. “so this is...a compliment?”

his mouth quirks. not a smile, but close. “don’t get cocky.”

i shake my head. laugh quietly to myself.

but when he hands me a heavier dumbbell than usual, i take it. no questions. no hesitation.

because of course i do. it’s him.

set 7: sweat

“lower,” he says quietly, voice right behind me.

i’m already sweating. not from the bar on my back—but because i can feel him. his hands hovering near my waist. not touching. not quite. but there.

his voice is low. his breath hits the back of my neck every time i exhale. i drop into the squat, eyes forward, jaw tight.

“don’t rush the rep,” he murmurs. “feel the bottom. hold it. then drive.”

it’s a normal cue. basic. but when he says it, it feels like something else entirely.

feel the bottom. hold it. drive.

my fingers tighten on the bar.

i push up. steady. not smooth.

“good,” he says, and i hear the smirk behind the word.

i rack the bar. turn around. he’s too close.

his eyes flicker across my face like he’s checking for something. i don’t know what. but it makes me stand up straighter.

“you okay?” he asks, voice still quiet. almost like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear us.

i nod. “just hot.”

he looks me over—slow. his eyes trail from the sweat clinging to my collarbone down to my waistband, where my tank top has started riding up slightly, exposing the faint line of my hip.

his tongue swipes across his bottom lip.

“yeah,” he says, but it’s not really an answer. just something to fill the silence.

next, we do hip thrusts.

my mistake.

i set the barbell over my hips, settling back on the bench.

he stands behind me. like usual. spotting. watching.

but there’s nothing normal about the way he’s looking at me now. his eyes are lower. darker. waiting.

“go heavier,” he says.

i shoot him a look. “you sure?”

he nods once. “you can handle it.”

i hate how that sentence makes my stomach turn.

i load the weight. start the first rep. my hips rise, slow, steady. the metal bar presses tight against me. my breathing gets shallow.

“keep your knees out,” he murmurs.

i adjust, legs trembling slightly.

“slower at the top,” he says. “don’t rush the squeeze.”

i swear to god, he’s doing this on purpose.

i grind through another rep, jaw locked. his eyes don’t leave my hips.

the bar moves. my body rises. his voice stays calm. smooth.

“you’re shaking,” he notes.

“i’m fine.”

“didn’t say you weren’t.”

our eyes meet.

i don’t blink. neither does he. his gaze drops again—barely noticeable. but enough.

the bar hits the floor. my set’s done. but i feel like i just ran a mile with his hand pressed low on my back.

last are deadlifts.

we load the bar together. his fingers brush mine on the last plate. i pretend i don’t notice. he pretends he didn’t mean to.

but we both know.

i line up. feet grounded. hands set.

he crouches beside me, one arm resting on his knee. his head tips slightly, eyes dragging over the length of my spine.

“don’t look up when you pull,” he says. “keep your neck neutral.”

i nod, swallowing hard.

his eyes don’t move. he stays low as i wrap my fingers around the bar. my body lifts—slow. steady.

his gaze trails up, following the pull.

when i lock out at the top, he says nothing. just stares. mouth parted.

“what?” i ask, breathless.

“nothing,” he says. voice rough now. unsteady. “just… you’re strong.”

my heart stumbles.

“you’ve said that before.”

“yeah,” he murmurs, standing up slowly. “but i mean it more now.”

he’s looking at me like he wants to say something else. but doesn’t.

and i’m standing there, heart racing, sweat sticking to my skin in all the wrong places, still holding onto the bar like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded.

we don’t say anything else.

but it’s loud. so loud between us.

set 8: the ride

“you walking?” he asks, voice low like always.

i’m standing by the water fountain, drenched in sweat, hoodie half-zipped, the hem of my tank top clinging to my skin. my legs feel like they’ve been rung out. my brain’s even worse.

i glance at him. taehyung’s already holding his keys.

“bus,” i say.

he doesn’t like that.

his brow twitches. “alone?”

i nod once.

he stares at me for a beat too long, then tilts his head and murmurs, “i’ll drive you.”

not a question. not even an offer. more like a decision he’s already made.

i should say no. i don’t.

“…yeah. okay.”

his car is clean. black leather. smells like cedar and something else—his cologne, maybe. sharp and familiar from how many times he’s spotted me from behind, breath brushing my neck.

he drives with one hand on the wheel. the other rests casually on the console between us, fingers relaxed, dangerous, close.

the silence isn’t awkward. it’s worse. it’s thick.

he doesn’t turn on the music. doesn’t ask where i live. he already knows.

we hit a red light.

i glance at him. he’s leaning back, eyes on the intersection ahead like it’s done something wrong.

“you always this helpful?” i ask, my voice thinner than i meant it to be.

he doesn’t look over.

“only for you.”

my stomach tightens.

“why me?” i ask, softer.

that gets his attention.

he glances sideways, then drags his eyes back to the road.

“you don’t talk just to talk,” he says. “you actually work for your reps. you look at me like you’re not scared.”

“you get close a lot,” i say under my breath.

“you don’t stop me.”

we pull into my building. he doesn’t park. just idles under the streetlight, thumb tapping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing keeping him from saying something reckless.

my seatbelt clicks free. my hand is already on the door.

“wait.”

i pause. his voice is quiet, but not soft. it lands in the space between my ribs and stays there.

i turn to him.

he’s already looking at me.

and for once, he’s not unreadable.

there’s something in his eyes i’ve never seen before. something raw. tight. like the leash he keeps everything on has been fraying this whole time, and i’m the last thread.

“don’t go in yet.”

my pulse skips. i don’t ask why. i just nod.

he doesn’t move at first. doesn’t reach for me. just stares, jaw tense, like he’s trying to decide if touching me now will ruin whatever careful thing we’ve built.

so i reach first.

my hand slides over his. his breath catches.

his fingers wrap around mine, slow, deliberate.

“i wasn’t planning this,” he says quietly.

“i know.”

his other hand lifts—to my thigh, not far from the hem of my shorts. his thumb presses lightly into my skin. not teasing. not demanding. just there.

“you want me to stop?”

my voice barely comes out. “no.”

he leans in.

not fast. not messy. his lips brush mine like he’s waiting for permission—like he wants to be sure this is something we both walk into, not fall.

i close the distance.

his mouth parts. and then it’s heat. tongue. the sigh that leaves him when i climb across the console into his lap like it’s always been mine.

his hands slide up my thighs, slow and steady.

not greedy. not possessive. hungry.

i straddle him fully. my knees wedge on either side of his hips. he lets out a breath against my mouth like he’s been holding it all night.

“fuck,” he whispers. “you feel so good already.”

i kiss him harder. his hands move under my hoodie, palms dragging along my waist, my ribs. he pushes it up, and i lift my arms to help.

he leans back and looks at me—really looks. i’m in my sports bra. flushed. breathing too hard.

he exhales like he’s looking at something he’s not sure he deserves to touch.

“pretty,” he murmurs. “fuck.”

he lifts the hem of the bra and slides it up. i let him. his eyes darken when i’m bare in front of him, nipples tight from the cold and the attention and the way he’s looking at me like he’s ready to kneel for a taste.

he doesn’t go straight for it. instead, he cups one breast with his hand, thumbing over the center until i shiver.

“look at you,” he murmurs. “you’ve been letting me spot you in this. teasing me.”

“i wasn’t—”

he presses his lips to my chest, right over my heartbeat. then higher. then around my nipple, mouth slow and open and warm.

my head falls back. “taehyung—”

he groans into my skin.

“say my name like that again and i won’t last.”

his hand moves down my back, finds the curve of my ass and grabs it—not hard, just enough to pull me against the thick pressure straining beneath me.

“fuck—” i gasp.

he smiles against my chest.

“that’s right. feel what you do to me.”

i grind once—instinctive, desperate. he sucks in a sharp breath, hands digging in harder.

“god, i’ve been patient,” he mutters. “every time you bent over in front of me, every time you looked at me like you didn’t know what you were doing.”

i meet his eyes. “maybe i did.”

his laugh is low. ragged.

“then you’re mean.”

“you like that.”

his eyes narrow. “too much.”

he grabs the waistband of my shorts and tugs them down my thighs. i lift myself to help, watching his face the whole time. he looks dazed. starved.

“you’re so wet already,” he says, voice rough. “fuck.”

his fingers slide between my thighs and pause at my center.

“can i?”

i nod. “please.”

and when he finally touches me—skin to skin—i feel his whole body jolt beneath me.

his fingers slide through the slickness, slow at first, then with more purpose, more pressure, more intent.

he’s breathing heavy now, jaw clenched, thumb brushing my clit with every pass.

“you’re perfect like this,” he whispers. “so responsive. so fucking soft.”

i moan when he adds a finger. then another.

his lips crush against mine as he fucks me slow and deep with his hand, until i’m trembling in his lap, forehead pressed to his.

i’m close. and he knows it.

“come for me,” he says. “i’ve got you.”

my nails dig into his shoulders. my body shakes. and when it happens, it crashes through me hard enough that i forget where i am. his name slips out of my mouth like a prayer.

he holds me through it, kisses me like he means it.

and when i start to settle, chest heaving, sweat cooling on my skin— he leans in, presses our foreheads together again, and says, barely audible:

“i don’t want this to end here.”

i nod, voice gone. “it won’t.”

he lifts me, shifts his seat back. unzips his sweats, pulls himself free—and i see how much he’s been holding back.

i sink down slowly.

he doesn’t rush. doesn’t push.

he just holds me, hands on my hips, forehead still against mine, letting me take him inch by inch until i’m full—aching. trembling.

“look at me,” he whispers.

i do.

his eyes are blown wide. desperate. soft.

“you feel like heaven,” he says. “and i’m not letting this be a one-time thing.”

“good,” i manage to whisper, right before he thrusts.

and then there’s no more talking. just skin, sweat, rhythm. just two people in the dark, holding onto something that feels like everything.

requests open anonymously!

#bts army #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts #bts v #bts taehyung #taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader

606 notes · View notes

honeyhotteoks · 8 months ago

Text

across stardust - one (j.yh)

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you've never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he's so much more than a crush, he's your soulmate. one | two (section 1) (section 2) | series masterlist 🔗read on ao3 ✨ across stardust pinterest board

note: please enjoy this truly self indulgent romance. will be four five parts total, and i'll post each as soon as they are ready to go. happy comeback week, and i hope everyone enjoys this 💖

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, a lot of fluff and tenderness, love at first touch, shared feelings/emotions/physical sensations, anxiety/stress over what to do, reader's family isn't the best, kq is not the best company for the purposes of this fic!, light smut including - heavy makeouts/grinding, hand kink, size kink, phone sex, sexting, fingering, jacking off, dirty talk, praise, use of good girl, use of pet names like baby/jagiya/sweetheart. basically this fic is an excuse for me to write star-crossed desperate love so i would say it's the literal opposite of a slow burn lmao

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 17.9k

It’s eleven in the morning when your day starts, hiding in the green room of a concert venue in Berlin, and the day feels lost already. With Eunji and Dahan ill that only leaves you and Iseul to handle makeup for all eight members and with how exhausted you are from yet another night of little sleep, you don’t know how you’ll be able to keep up. You’re trying to stay awake, but while the members are all out on stage learning their marks and rehearsing the improvisational moments for this tour stop, the green room is quiet and you keep nodding off.

“Bad night?” Iseul’s voice startles you out of one of your dips into sleep and your body jerks up right.

“Fuck,” You breathe, “hey,”

“Here,” She pushes a bright can into your hands, an energy drink, “you need this.”

“I need to be sedated,” You grumble, taking it from her, “the time difference is never this hard,”

“Mm,” She shrugs, “it’s unpredictable,”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I guess.”

The thumping music outside as they run through another track is starting to give you a migraine. You take a long sip of the drink and then leave the can on the table in front of you, choosing instead to hide your face in the sleeves of your sweatshirt and let out another long sigh.

“Girl,” Iseul nudges you, “you look like shit. Your station looks like shit.”

“Thank you?”

“In thirty minutes we’re going to be busier than we’ve been since that Inkigayo stage for Answer,” She points out and you grimace at the reference. Back then it really was just a skeleton staff and one of the makeup artists quit on the spot, too stressed to continue the work and walking out in the middle of doing Yeosang’s foundation.

What a mess those old days used to be. Nostalgia sometimes makes you forget how late those nights were and just how impossibly tired you had been. This feels too reminiscent of that for sure.

Iseul taps your shoulder to get you to lift your face as she continues, “I know you’re tired, but I can’t do this shit on my own. I need you.”

“Okay,” You breathe, scrubbing your hands over your face to jolt yourself awake as best you can, “you’re right, I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be sorry,” She gives you a sympathetic smile, “I get it.”

This tiredness feels different though, so deeply ingrained in your body. Something’s been keeping your adrenaline running like a long, drawn out anxiety attack and you can’t understand it. You’ve been on tour before, you’ve been on planes, you’ve had long days, and you’ve worked with this exact group for years. There’s nothing on paper that should be making you so anxious, but the threads of it are humming in the deep back of your brain even now.

“Come on,” Iseul prompts again, pulling you to your feet, “let’s get you in gear.”

“Right,” You take another long sip of your energy drink and pray it starts kicking in soon and that the effects won’t make you feel crazier, “let’s do this.”

She helps you put your station together with ease and then pull yourself together. Within those precious thirty minutes of calm before the storm you’ve downed two cans of pure caffeine, assembled your station and strapped on your brush belt, and tried to make yourself some form of presentable by slicking your hair back into a smooth knot and adding a coat of lip balm.

As always, the boys have used the ladder game to determine hair and makeup order which means those at the bottom of the list have more time to relax fresh-faced on the couches before getting poked and prodded and wrapped up like presents for thousands of screaming fans. With only you and Iseul available it’s about to be a race against the clock to get them ready.

Their managers hustle them from the stage to the back rooms where the rest of the staff waits, and the members gather around you and Iseul and your makeshift makeup stations.

“Alright,” Iseul says as the members quiet down, “we’re down some staff as you know,”

They nod attentively and you trade a close lipped smile with Hongjoong.

“We’re just going to do the best we can as quickly as we can,” She explains, looking down at their names on a slip of paper, “Wooyoung, Yeosang, Jongho, San,” she recites, “you’re with me in that order.”

You run through the names on your slip, “Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Yunho, that leaves you with me.”

Iseul nods as you finish your words, “Please be ready to slot in when the person in front of you is finished, and then you can go directly to wardrobe for your soundcheck outfits,”

“We’ve got it,” Hongjoong nods, “and if there’s anything you both need,”

“We’ll be fine,” Iseul assures him, “but it’s definitely going to be cutting it close,”

“We should get started,” You cut in, “if you’re ready?”

Hongjoong jumps to your chair immediately and Wooyoung steps to Iseul’s, and before you know it you’re off.

The room is alight with activity while you both work, only you don’t have a relaxed pace and only two members to perfect. You’re used to working with Wooyoung and Seonghwa, they’ve been your assigned members for as long as you’ve worked with Ateez, but when staff shortages or timing gets tight, it can be a bit of a free for all.

You stay focused and execute each member’s makeup like a well rehearsed dance, and you do your best to ignore the buzzing anxiety in your veins. For a little while, you handle it like a professional.

When Yunho finally settles into your chair, about a single second after Mingi leaves it, the exhaustion careens back into you sideways. It takes you a minute to prep your tools this time, and you’re pretty sure that without the artificial pick me up of the energy drinks you’d be passing out on the spot.

You steady your hands against the vanity in front of you and take a deep breath, and when you look up you catch Yunho’s eyes in the mirror, a tiny crease of concern between his brows.

“You okay?” He checks.

You give him a smile, albeit a tired one, “The jet lag is really hitting this time,” you explain, “but I’m fine,”

He looks sympathetic immediately, “Same for me, I feel like I’m barely sleeping,”

“That’s not good,” You tell him as you prep your stainless steel palette, “you have a long night ahead,”

“I’ll sleep tonight,” He says, “I’m sure,”

“After dancing for three hours I’d hope so,” You smile and pick up your first set of tools before turning towards him.

“Do you have anything you could take?” He asks, studying your face, “A sleep aid?”

“I usually don’t like to,” You admit, “I always feel groggy the next day,”

“And we have another show,” He finishes for you, his lips coming together in a thin line as he thinks.

There’s nothing really for him to do, but it’s kind of him anyway to be so concerned. They always are, this rare group of eight idols who remember staff birthdays, bring coffee on the early morning schedules, and always, always take extra time to clean up after themselves so it’s not left to anyone else.

You take a step closer towards him and glance over his bare face and then it occurs to you, “You know what’s funny?”

“Hmm?” He tilts his face up to you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever done your makeup before,” You smile, it’s a ridiculous thought.

“No way,” He blinks, thinking back, “it’s been… forever, are you sure?”

You nod, “You’re usually with Eunji,” you tell him, “and even when we’ve swapped around, I don’t think so. I think you’re the only member I’ve never done,”

“Wow,” He laughs, eyes bright, “well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“Is there anything,” You start to ask him if there’s anything he prefers, anything special about his makeup that he gets done with Eunji that he asks for, but Iseul catches you idle as she pats foundation onto San’s forehead and answers for you.

“His skin gets dry,” She jumps in, “don’t use too much powder,”

Yunho grins, a laugh on his lips at the directness of her words.

“And don’t use that oil,” Iseul adds, “that primer oil you like, he’ll break out by tomorrow,”

“Thank you, Iseul,” Yunho says, and you watch San’s face as he stifles a chuckle.

“Noted,” You smile, and you swap out two of the products in your hands before taking up your position by his side again.

You’ve gotten used to working with idols, to working with Ateez and with Yunho specifically, and yet when you get this close a little flutter of nerves rocks through your belly. He’s handsome, and if you’re being honest he’s just your type. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or this weird feeling in your chest that you’ve been dealing with all week, but for the first time in a long time you think about what it would be like to kiss his lips.

“How do you want me?” He asks, breaking your thoughts, and you have to shake off the impending blush at the way his words make you feel. You have work to do, and you had gotten over your silly little crush on him years ago, you need to get a grip.

You recover fairly smoothly though with a quick smile, “Right,” he’s never worked with you before, and he’s looking to you for direction, “head back a bit, please, and eyes closed,”

“Alright,” He follows your instructions to the letter.

“Okay,” You tell him, “primer first. Let me know if anything bothers you,”

“Mhm,” He hums and stays relaxed.

He has the loveliest eyelashes, that’s the thought that echoes through your brain as you start working on him, and you wish it never occurred to you at all because you keep glancing up at his closed eyes. He lets you work, he knows you’re exhausted so he doesn’t push you for conversation, and you’re strangely grateful. You know he’s chatty sometimes in the chair, an extrovert through and through and always keeping Eunji company or talking with the member beside him, but right now he keeps still and gives you respite on a hard day.

You’re patting foundation into his skin with a large paddle brush when Iseul interrupts your thoughts, “Do you have that eggplant liner?”

“Check my table,” You offer, but with how sluggish your brain is feeling there’s no way you remember a single thing on your station without looking.

“Mm,” She pivots around and pokes through the products and tools behind you, and you glance over as San opens his eyes to watch Iseul rifle through things.

“Damn,” She mutters, “how much time do we have?”

“Um,” You glance down at your watch, “twenty?”

“Perfect,” She scoots behind you and disappears into the hall, no doubt to find your traveling makeup case and the liner.

You sigh, chewing the inside of your lip at the idea that you only have twenty more minutes, but you really don’t want to rush and have his makeup melt off on-stage.

“You’re fine,” San assures, his body angled towards you and Yunho now while he waits, “don’t worry about the clock,”

Yunho hums his agreement from below you, “Plenty of time,”

You refocus on Yunho’s skin and notice a long black and white hair from the paddle brush affixed to his cheek, mixed in with the foundation. You take the brush again, wiping off any excess foundation and checking to see if more fibers are loose, and then you work the brush against his cheek in an attempt to free the loose hair but it isn’t coming off easily. Every attempt you make just slides the hair into a different spot on his cheek and covers it with more foundation.

“Um,” You usually don’t like to do this, but you might have to, “can I just…”

His eyes open but his expression stays smooth, “Can you?”

“Sorry,” You shake your head, “do you mind if I touch you?”

“You already are,” He smiles, a small, amused crease between his brows you’ll have to pat out momentarily.

You tuck your brush away and gesture with your hand, “You just have a hair,”

“Oh,” He laughs, “of course, yeah,”

You’re just supposed to touch his cheek, brush away the hair with the pad of your finger and then get back to work, that’s all it is, so you’re completely unprepared for the feeling that rockets through your chest when your skin finally touches his.

Yunho gasps softly as your fingers brush over his cheek, his eyes blowing wide and his expression blanking, and it’s the only indication you have that he feels something too. A tightness wrenches in your chest, like someone pressed something hot and hard directly into your breastbone and your stomach does a somersault. Your ears are ringing, and you’re pretty sure your heart is about to beat out of your chest now that it’s started up again.

The tattoo on your chest feels warm beneath your blouse.

“You,” Yunho manages, his voice shaky and you know for sure he felt it too.

You rock back a step, “I don’t understand,”

“Shit,” Someone else says, and then you realize that it’s San and you’re not alone with the only other person in the entire world, you’re in the middle of work in front of at least one other person and it’s only your existence that just got tilted on its axis. Yours and maybe Yunho’s.

“Oh,” You glance to the side, taking in San’s wide eyed expression, “oh my God,”

“I’m not insane, am I?” Yunho smiles, his focus entirely on you, and you think you might just pass out, “You felt that?”

There’s a noise in the hall and San scrambles up to his feet, “Iseul,” he says heading for the door, “do you need help looking?”

He’s covering for you both, but thoughts are slow to form and all you can manage is blinking at the man in your chair.

“You did, right?” He asks again, eyes soft and hopeful, and then his fingers brush over the center of his chest. Squarely over his breastbone.

He’s yours.

You want to reach out and yank up his shirt, check the tattoo over his heart to see if it’s the same looping knot shape as yours, but you don’t need to see it to know for sure. It’s him.

San says something about forgetting the liner altogether, a little louder so you both know the room is going to get crowded again, and you shake your head to jolt yourself out of your paralyzed position.

“You didn’t?” His hand falls.

“I did,” You rush to correct, “I’m, I don’t know,”

He nods, wetting his lips and shifting in his chair. He moves to reach for you, but reason and sense click back into place immediately and you realize that no matter what your tattoo feels like and no matter what this means, you’re at work and about to have a very private moment in a very public place if you’re not careful.

You shake your head with a glance at his hand and jerk your head towards the door, “Later,”

“Right,” He leans back from you, “of course, right,”

Footsteps to your right draw your attention and Iseul is huffing, checking her own watch, “We’ll do brown,”

“That’ll be fine,” San assures her, but his eyes are glued on the pair of you.

Iseul moves to step around you again and realizes you’re just standing there, “What’s with you?”

“Sorry,” You manage, blinking hard and refocusing, “I just got dizzy,”

It’s not entirely a lie, given that you felt the entire earth shift under your feet thirty seconds ago and your life is completely changed. Dizzy is the least of how you’re feeling.

Yunho’s expression shifts immediately, concern across his face, and he curls his fingers into his palms to keep himself from reaching out again, from being too familiar.

“Oh,” Her eyebrows raise high, “do you need me to finish Yunho?”

“N-no,” You take a breath, “just give me one second,”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Yunho asks, and in the back of your brain you wonder if his voice has always sounded this good.

“Here,” San cuts in smoothly, cracking the seal on a fresh water bottle and passing it over to you, “do you need to sit a minute?”

San’s hand rests on your upper back between your shoulders as you take a long sip of water, the cold shocking your brain back to reality in exactly the way you need.

“Thank you,” You tell him honestly, “I think I’m okay, just a headrush,”

San nods, and when you refocus your eyes on Yunho, you almost laugh. His gaze is squarely on San’s hand where it sits on your back, and you watch the fast, silent exchange between the two men when San drops his hand and Yunho realizes his own reaction. He blushes, ears running red and he dips his head to avoid both your eyes.

“Iseul,” San steps around you both and distracts your friend, “ready to wrap?”

“Yeah,” She agrees, “let’s finish up. You’re sure you’re okay, y/n?”

“Mhm,” You hardly trust your own voice, but you nod anyway, “I’m good now.”

Yunho tilts his face back up as you step close, and the tension between you is so palpable and so familiar that you can hardly breathe. Your tattoo feels warm and heavy and something tells you that his does too, you can see it in the tenderness of his brown eyes.

“Dizzy?” He asks quietly, keeping his words just for you.

You shake your head, “No,”

“That’s good,” He murmurs, but he lets whatever words he wants to say rest on his tongue.

Your tattoo throbs and you don’t dare touch his bare skin again.

His makeup takes fifteen more minutes and his eyes don’t stray from your face the entire time. You barely finish on time, and wardrobe is standing by to get them into their first outfits of the night, so when you put the final touches on he’s already being pulled out of the chair before you have a chance to say anything.

You want to corner him and ask him exactly when he’ll have time to talk later, but despite working together for the last few years, you and Yunho aren’t that close. You’re friendly, but you’re not familiar enough to casually ask what he’s doing later and not have it seem strange. While friendships between staff members and idols are not discouraged, even between the opposite sex, being overly familiar or suggestive would certainly leave a question in everyone’s minds, and you don’t want to draw attention to yourself that quickly.

This is between you and Yunho, no one else. You don’t want an audience for this.

So he goes, pulled away by wardrobe and his other members, fitted quickly into his Soundcheck outfit. He has his game face on, so do all the members, and you watch him disappear down the hall without a second glance back at you.

You collapse into the couch and press your eyes closed, focusing on the singular feeling of heat and soreness from your chest.

A soulmate.

The tattoo on your chest was one you barely looked at anymore, too focused on living your life to sit in the mirror and wonder about the person who would be your other half, the person that would slot into the gaps in your spirit with a simple brush of skin on skin. But now, it aches. It pulses to remind you that it’s real and that you’ve found him.

Everything in your life is about to change. Has already changed.

On the couch you don’t sleep as much as you disassociate, still stunned, your buzzing brain filtering out everything Iseul says as she cleans up around you and preps both of your brush belts for touch ups. There’s such a small amount of time between Soundcheck and the concert that you barely get to process, you just exist, playing the moment you touched him over again and again in your mind. Despite how utterly changed you feel, the world is just continuing on around you like a regular day.

Once again, you and Yunho miss each other for every brief moment between Soundcheck and stage.

The shift happens in the wings, in the underbelly of the stage where you and the other staff members for hair, makeup, and wardrobe wait for any last minute quick fixes. The eight of them are almost ready, pumping themselves up between rows of technical equipment and stage scaffolding.

There’s so much commotion around you and yet your eyes are drawn to him like a magnet, the feelings you once had for him coming back to you full force in a blurry torrent.

He shifts, stretches, swallows hard, and then looks up directly into your eyes. There’s a question in them that you can’t read, but you manage to smile.

His shoulders relax just a little.

You raise your fist, giving him the gesture for ‘fighting’ and he returns it with a wide grin.

“Alright,” Hongjoong’s voice cuts through, the final step of their pre-show ritual as the concert hall starts to roar, “huddle up.”

The eight of them circle up with each other, one leg in and one out.

“We’ve practiced hard,” Hongjoong starts, patting his members on the back, “let that practice pay off, and have fun out there,”

“Okay!” San hypes them up, getting the tension high.

“Let’s give it our all,” Hongjoong continues, a wide smile on his face, “fighting!”

They echo it back, and a tense feeling starts to roll in your gut.

“Alright, one,” Hongjoong starts the count and you feel the tension in your own body rising, enough to make you take a soft step back from the group, “two,”

On three they chorus it, moving their feet in a synchronized step, “Eight makes one team! Fighting!”

They break apart, clapping each other on the back, and your eyes meet Yunho’s for one more fast second before he’s jogging after the rest of the members and finding his mark on the stage risers.

You feel the sensation of his eyes on you even after he’s gone. You have the length of four songs and their opening ments before members start swapping out on stage for makeup touch-ups and technical adjustments. The sound of the audience is intense, the start of the first song keying up, and you stumble back from your post to get a breath of air away from it all.

There’s a bathroom along the hallway two doors down from the green room that’s meant for staff and you blissfully find it empty. With shaking hands you flip the lock and sink down into a crouch, your back braced against the wall as you breathe through the sudden wave of feelings filling your chest.

Adrenaline, that’s what the bitter taste on your tongue is.

Your heart is thumping, double time like you’re running a marathon, and then you realize it. You can feel him, even now with the bond between you unfulfilled you can feel his emotions coming to you like a wave. Adrenaline, anxiety, euphoria, exhaustion, it all roils through you and you brace your hands on the wall to get your composure back.

They say the first time you feel your soulmate link it takes you by surprise, but this is an intensity you couldn’t have imagined. It’s all encompassing and honestly terrifying, and you’re struggling to understand which parts of you are you and which are him. You can’t conceive of how an accepted bond would make this feeling stronger when it already feels like your emotions and his are knit together so tightly.

Anxiety strikes down the link and you realize it’s not stage fright, it’s for you. He can feel your panic and your fear just like you can feel every ounce of his performance and if you don’t get yourself in check you’re going to be distracting him even more than you already are.

You yank yourself up off the floor and collapse against the sink, turning on the cold water tap and taking slow and steadying breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Counting slowly, relaxing your body with every pulse of oxygen through your system. You hope he can feel it, but you have no idea how this all really works. You’ll have to call your sister when this is all said and done, find out what she felt when she met her wife, but right now in this bathroom in Berlin you have to do this by yourself.

You hear the pulse of another song thrumming through the stadium as they keep performing, and you feel the thundering beat of his heart in your chest, but you breathe into it this time and try to keep yourself calm for his sake. You splash cold water on your face, keep breathing low and slow, and eventually you pull yourself back up to standing tall to look at yourself in the mirror.

You look the same as you did a few hours ago, before him, but the warmth in your chest is still present and you wonder if that will ever go away or if that’s just a permanent part of the link.

With shaky hands you unbutton your blouse and pull your bralette down in the center to reveal what you already know is there. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight.

The tattoo nestled at the base of your sternum is the only one you were born with. Every other line of ink on your body was put there with intention, but this one you’ve had for as long as you can remember. The maedeup knot is small, but intricate, and until this moment it had always been colorless. Loops of black and gray twining together to make a rounded diamond, unbroken with no beginning or end to the threads.

Now the ink has changed, a deep red against your skin that makes the knotted josephin soulmark look even more traditional, but the skin is slightly inflamed, tender to the touch as you brush your fingertips along it. It feels like a fresh mark, not something you’ve had since birth, but considering how it’s changed, maybe it is new. A soulmark shifting color is common, you know that, but it still stands out so starkly against your skin and your other black tattoos. You can’t look away from it.

A pounding on the bathroom door makes you jump and you fix your shirt, covering the mark back up and buttoning it away. You wonder if Yunho’s mark is the exact same like other couples you know and if it too turned red, if it’s warm to the touch, if he felt you brush against your mark through the link.

“y/n?” A voice comes through the door and you shut off the tap.

“Coming!” You wipe the excess water on your hands onto your jeans and take one last, fast look to make sure your mark isn’t visible, before opening the bathroom door.

Wonshik, one of their many managers, is waiting for you on the other side. His eyes narrow when he sees you, “Are you ill?”

“No,” You assure him.

“You’re sure?” He presses, “We can’t afford to lose any more staff or risk getting the members sick if you are,”

“I know, Wonshik,” You nod, “I promise I’m just tired, jet-lagged. I was putting cold water on my face, that’s all. I’m not sick,”

He exhales in relief, his expression softening, “Thank God,” he says, “I can only take so many surprises.”

A little sickness is nothing compared to a staff member and an idol under a dating ban being soulmarked, but you hold your tongue.

“They’re about to come off,” He says, “Iseul was looking for you, she seems like she might start climbing the walls if you don’t get back to help her,”

“No, of course,” You start back towards the side stage entrance, “I lost track of time, but it won’t happen again,”

“Make sure you sleep tonight,” He adds, following you closely, “no sleep means no immune system, and no immune system means sick.”

“Don’t worry,” You promise, winding your way through the dark backstage, “you won’t lose me,”

“I better not,” He sighs, and then Iseul comes into sight.

“There you are!” She hisses low under her breath, “I was about to have a panic attack,”

“I’m sorry, I’m here, I’m good,” In the commotion, your brain starts to ease into normalcy. You’re used to this pace, the speed of lightning fast makeup touch-ups and assisting wardrobe when things start to go awry with their quick changes. The audience feels none of this, they just see smooth change-outs on stage and cool idols in new clothes, but backstage is a wild flurry and it always puts you on an entirely different plane of focus.

“Here we go,” A stage director starts, gathering everyone’s attention, “four minutes… starting…”

The stage goes dark and in the venue a video starts to play to the crowd to fill the space between costume changes. You prep your hands, making sure your kit is ready to go and you see the wardrobe specialists out of the corner of your eye readying themselves to help facilitate the quick change.

Suddenly they’re here, and the stage director interrupts once more, “Now, four minutes people, let’s go.”

“Mingi,” He gets to you first and he crouches down to drop his face to your height, “stay still one second,”

He says nothing, but he nods as you pat powder across his forehead and the bridge of his nose, checking him over for any other defects. He looks good and you nod, “Go, go,”

Mingi peels off to the left of you and you hear the sound of fabric swishing as he and Wooyoung rip off the top layer of their outfits behind the privacy screens and trade garments with the wardrobe team. It’s a fast shuffle, but you stay focused on who’s in front of you.

“Seonghwa,” You wave to him, pulling blotting tissues out of the pack on your belt, “here,”

He knows this drill well, you’re used to working with him and you have a clean routine down. He blots the sweat off his brow himself and starts to unbutton his jacket while you shift focus to Yunho.

For a split second you almost forget what happened earlier in the buzz of backstage, but the minute your eyes hold on his awareness floods you.

“Hey,” You say, but there’s a time clock shout behind you and you beckon him down, “come here, let me fix things,”

He drops down to your height just like Mingi did and stays steady while you work, but his eyes flick up, “You’re okay?”

“I’m good,” You nod, “don’t worry,”

His expression clears a little and you guess you have your answer about the feeling of the link going both ways.

Hongjoong clears his throat behind you both, “We’re short on time,”

“Am I good?” Yunho checks.

Your eyes flick over him fast, “Yep,”

He’s out of your eyeline a split second later, and you’re grateful for the distraction of both Hongjoong and Seonghwa, otherwise you’re sure you’d dwell a little bit too long on the fact that Yunho’s half naked next to you, privacy screen or no.

“One minute,” The stage director announces, “everyone’s doing great,”

The boys are almost done, flying through the last of their zips and getting their hair smoothed down by that team as they finish. You put the last pat of powder on Seonghwa’s nose and give him a nod before he’s gone too, dropping his jacket as he goes and giving you all a quick flash of his bare back.

You turn back towards the group as they prepare and your eyes zero in on Yunho again. His expression is serious, it’s his game face before he gets back out on stage, and you watch as he corrects the placement of his in-ears and ensures that his mic pack is secured. He runs through his pre-stage ritual and you can’t help but be a captive audience.

“Good work,” The stage director says as Seonghwa rejoins the eight, fully dressed and ready for stage, “fifteen seconds for act two,”

The crowd heats up again as the video starts to fade, and the members do their final checks. Yunho doesn’t look back at you once, his eyes forward and focused as he and the other members find their places on the rising platform that will take them back out to the main stage.

You can see him a little though, in the low light in his white trousers and blue satin shirt. He lifts his hand, adjusting his microphone once again, and then as he drops it back to his side he lets his fingers skim over the familiar hollow of his chest.

Your mark warms, you feel it as if it were your chest he brushed his fingers over, and your breath stops.

The platform rises, the crowd roars, and your heart starts beating to a new rhythm.

He really is yours.

It turns out that later means much later.

You manage to get out of dinner with some of the other staff members, but that just leaves you anxious and alone in a hotel room trying and failing to eat room service. Iseul would be back soon to take up her place in the other bed, and you’re starting to realize that you don’t have Yunho’s number.

Now that emotions are a little smoother, you can’t feel him. Or maybe you can, but it’s so faint that you’re not sure. All you know is that he’s definitely in the hotel, but that’s partially the solid feeling of your link with him and partially the YouTube live being broadcast from Seonghwa’s room where all of the members are.

You put the live on and watch, feeling strangely disconnected from the men on screen. You’ve known them for years, but suddenly with this new truth everything feels foreign and confusing.

You should call your sister, but it’s only six in the morning in Korea and even though this is an emergency of life altering and epic proportions, you can’t bring yourself to wake her on a Saturday.

You try your best to eat the pasta you ordered and watch as the live eventually ends. Your phone dings and for a split second you think it will be him, but it’s just Iseul telling you she’s heading back to the hotel.

A soft knock at the door makes your stomach lurch.

You’re frozen.

There’s another knock, a little firmer this time but then you feel the warm touch against your mark and you’re on your feet, your hand on the door handle before you can think.

He looks tired, that’s your first thought. His face is bare again, and his eyes are rimmed in a little bit of red like he just removed the day’s stage makeup. Despite all that, he smiles when he sees you and sighs, leaning against the door frame, “You’re awake,” he says.

“I waited,” You manage.

He grimaces, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” his eyes flick behind you into the room and he swallows, “are you alone?”

“Yes,” You nod, “but not for long, Iseul’s on her way,”

He nods, “Come to my room?”

“Are you sure?” Your eyes widen.

“We need to talk,” He nods, “can you get away for a little while?”

Iseul will probably expect you to be asleep, but you can’t let this go until morning. If you’re ever going to sleep you need to talk to him now.

“I’ll think of something,” You tell him, “what room?”

“2606,” He answers, reaching into his pockets and producing an envelope from the front desk, “take this,”

He passes you one of his room keys and you nod, “I’ll be up in five minutes, but you should go,”

“Okay,” He breathes and neither one of you makes a single move to step away from the door until a sound down the hallway pushes you into it.

“2606,” You repeat and he nods, swiftly moving down the hall before anyone can see him standing at your door.

You have no idea what you’re going to tell Iseul that would make sense, but you don’t care. You stack up your room service for collection, kick on a pair of slippers, and give yourself the fastest look in the mirror ever on your way out the door. You want to be gone before she gets back, the idea of facing her and lying ten times more difficult than an empty text.

No problem - I can’t sleep, I’m just going to walk a bit. Don’t wait up.

You don’t stick around to see if she’ll believe it.

You try to seem casual when walking to Yunho’s room, like it's yours. You don’t want anyone to give you a second glance and wonder where you’re going, so you keep your head up, smile at anyone you pass, and when his door comes into view you scan the card like it’s any other day.

When the heavy door shuts behind you, you sigh.

“God, finally,” His voice startles you, and you look up to see him pacing, “I’ve been going insane all day,”

Your shoulders drop, you aren’t alone, “Me too,”

He runs a hand through his black hair and finally stops pacing, but doesn’t come any closer, “So, this is real?”

“It feels pretty real,”

“How did we never feel it?” He manages, “I’ve known you for years,”

“We’ve never touched until today,” You tell him, and that has to be the reason, it’s the only thing that makes sense. You’ve been turning it over in your mind all night, and with the exception of bumping into him last week in the hall, it’s all been polite bows and waves.

“How is that even possible,” He breathes, “team dinners? Holiday parties? Work?”

“Skin to skin,” You murmur, “I think that’s what it was,”

“I had no idea,” He swallows, gesturing in the negative space between your bodies, “I always liked you, but I thought it was just, you know, a crush,”

“You what?” Your eyebrows raise.

“Well,” He backtracks, “not like that, it’s not like I’ve been holding a candle.”

Your face stays neutral, but he grimaces at his own words.

“I’m fucking this up,” He takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry, I’m really nervous.”

Your stomach warms, “Yunho, it’s okay, honestly,”

“I just meant I’ve always liked you, I thought about asking you out when our contracts loosened up if you were still single.” He clarifies and then you watch his face blanch, “You are single, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” You nod, “we don’t have to worry about that,”

He nods and you see him searching for the next thing to say, the right thing.

“Your mark,” You cut in, taking a few steps further into the room, “did it change?”

“Completely,” He nods, “did yours?”

“Yeah,” You wonder the right way to ask him if you can see.

“Does it feel,” He starts.

“Warm?”

“Yes,” He nods, “and tender?”

“Like a fresh tattoo,” You take another step in.

“I’ve never gotten a tattoo,” He confesses, “but I’ll take your word for it,”

“Can I,” The words are stuck on your tongue, “maybe this is weird, but I mean, I guess we’re soulmates,”

“You want to see it?” He surmises.

“Only if you’re comfortable,”

His lips quirk, “I’m comfortable,”

Heat twists in your gut and you wonder if he can feel that too. If he does he doesn’t say it, but you watch as he pulls the black t-shirt off over his head.

You’ve never seen his chest. Any inch of his skin except for his neck and arms really, and you guess that was part of keeping his soulmark covered. Idols always do, even when they’re in the most inconvenient locations, there’s always makeup or flesh colored tape or editing to take care of it. The idea that someone could replicate it and try to fake a connection is far too real for someone famous.

He drops his shirt onto the bed and pink tinges his cheeks as he gestures towards it, “Well,”

Your mouth drops, it’s the exact same, down to the size and the placement and every little loop and you stumble forwards to get a better look, “Yunho,”

“Yeah?”

“Has yours always been red?” You reach out, your fingertips hovering just over it.

He shakes his head, “Not before today,”

“Mine’s the same,” You tell him, your eyes glued to his sternum, “just the same,”

You know every centimeter of this tattoo. You’ve studied it a thousand times in the mirror, tracing over every curve with your eyes, trying to find the place where the cord starts and ends. He sucks in a sharp breath as your fingers brush gently along his mark, and you feel the ghost of the sensation against your own.

“I can’t believe we never knew,” You murmur, sliding your finger along each rounded edge.

“You feel that?” He asks, “Right?”

You’re nodding and moving to tug off your sweater before you can even think it through. He starts to shake his head, to say that you don’t have to, but you’re already tossing the sweater next to his discarded shirt and tugging down the front band of your bralette so he can see the whole mark.

His eyes flick over you fast, but with the matching mark in front of him he doesn’t focus on anything else, “It’s exactly the same,”

“I know,” You reach for his hand, but the minute more of your skin connects with his you feel your chest throb and you drop it like it burns you.

He winces, touching his chest again, “Is it supposed to hurt?”

“In the beginning,” You nod, “I think?”

“Does it always feel like that?”

“I’m not sure,” You admit, “I was going to call my sister and ask, but it’s too early at home,”

He smiles, “Your sister found her soulmate?”

“In highschool,” You smile back, “they’ve been bonded together since they were eighteen,”

“Older or younger?” He asks, and you realize just how little you know about each other despite how long you’ve worked alongside him.

“Younger,” You say.

“I have a little brother,” He replies, “but he’s still in school,”

You nod, painfully aware that this is such a strange conversation to have with your shirts off just standing in the middle of a hotel room, but somehow it’s easier than any date you’ve ever had.

Your eyes flick from his eyes to his mark and he reaches out a hand again, “Can I?”

Your heart quickens and you nod.

His fingertips graze over the edge of your mark, mimicking your touch from before, sliding along the edges of the tattoo. His eyes widen and you know he’s feeling the sensation in his own mark, a mirror image of each other.

“This doesn’t hurt,” He observes, letting his fingers linger.

“I think we have to get used to each other,” You remember that fact from somewhere, “the link has been dormant for a long time, I think it takes a minute to get used to having it,”

“Makes sense,” He murmurs, his eyes still squarely on your mark, “I’ll be honest though, I still really want to touch you,”

“Yeah?” Your voice is thready.

His fingers fall away and he nods, “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” You agree, painfully quickly.

He swallows tightly and takes the smallest step forwards, before offering out his hand, palm up and waiting for you.

Your eyes flick from his face down to his outstretched hand, and you reach for him slowly. You let your fingertips skate over the skin of his palm, down each digit, ghost the pads of your fingertips together. It’s warm, sharp and dizzying even just to brush against each other.

You wonder what more will feel like.

“Can I try something?” He murmurs, his voice nearly a whisper even though you’re all alone.

You nod.

He wets his lips unconsciously and moves a little closer, your bodies now only inches apart. Anxiety, anticipation, thrill, it all runs through your gut like a whirling wind and you shiver at the torrent of his emotions, a grin breaking out over your face.

His smile mirrors yours, “Your heart’s beating a mile a minute,”

“You can feel that?”

“Yeah,” He breathes, grin widening, “this is crazy,”

You laugh, a little nervous, a little elated, and he finally reaches out his hands.

He takes a steadying breath, and then his fingertips brush along your jaw.

You suck in a sharp gasp at the sensation, electric and hot, the feeling rocketing through your entire body. You tilt your face up to his as he continues his gentle touches, your eyes watching him as he studies you. His plush lips are parted, brown eyes wide with awe as he grows a little bolder to brush over your cheeks, down your throat, and back up to your jawline.

“Feel alright?” He murmurs.

You nod into his touch and he starts to lift off but you reach for him, “Don’t stop,”

Your hands land safely on his hips, still covered by his sweatpants and you watch him swallow again at the sudden contact, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Warmth fills the bond, no doubt the first threads of his arousal, and you wonder if he can feel your own. If he can sense how much he’s affecting you with just his fingertips on your face.

His hands settle back on your skin, this time smoothing across you with his palms, one hand cupping your cheek and the other sliding over your shoulder and down your bare back.

You can barely breathe, the room so silent and around you, like the only thing in the universe that exists is the two of you orbiting each other, standing at the precipice of something so catastrophic and wonderful.

Your hands adjust, resting on his taut abdomen as you move a little closer together, and his eyes flutter shut as he breathes through the sensation of your hands on him properly for the first time.

“You’re so warm,” You murmur, your hands softly tracing his abdominal muscles, instinct guiding you to touch more of him, seek out every inch of him as you unconsciously make a map of his body in your mind.

He hums pleasantly, eyes reopening, “So are you,”

He feels so right, so essential under your touch.

Yunho wets his lips softly with his tongue, and a nervous thrill passes through your belly. His eyes flick over you, the pad of his thumb sweeping a line over your lips. You suppress a needy sound, still trying to keep your head amidst the thrumming emotions and steady thumps of your heart.

He doesn’t stop, just stroking your skin slowly, fingers on your back pressing just a little as he sighs.

“Yunho,” You shiver.

“Cold?” He gravitates a little closer.

“N-no,” Your body is all but pressed flush against him now, and you have to lean your face up even more just to see him as he stands tall over you.

“I…” He starts to say something but lets the words die off, like he’s thinking something through, but then he sighs, “forget it,”

His lips are on yours.

Yunho lifts you, wrapping his arms around your back and tugging you up into his embrace. You gasp against his mouth, finding his shoulders to hold onto as one of his arms bands around your lower back.

The kiss is shattering, the world tilting once again, a new frequency humming between your two bodies. It’s hot, your skin buzzing from the contact, but the way you move together is fluid and easy. Your legs part naturally, settling around his hips and his free hand finds your plush thigh as he tugs you into place, slotting your bodies together like they were always meant to be.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles against your lips when he draws in a quick breath, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. His nose nuzzles against yours, and his lips part at the same moment yours do, tongues meeting in the space between your mouths to flick against each other.

“Don’t,” You push closer to him, fingers knotting into the back of his hair as you kiss him back.

He hums, the hand on your thigh sliding up to cup your ass and you shiver as his wide hand stretches across your backside, squeezing your pillowy flesh.

A tiny whimper does leave you then, liquid heat spreading through your body, the combined sensation of both your arousals giving you a headrush.

“So beautiful,” He sighs between kisses, “you’re so beautiful,”

“Yunho,” Your voice is thready, his name a stretched out sound.

He holds you close, nearly stumbling as he moves. You blink your eyes open just as he spins you both, pushing you up against the hotel wall and pinning you in place with the weight of his body. You should slow things down, but nothing in your life has ever felt this good and you find yourself diving back to meet his kiss again.

His arm slides out from behind your back as he pushes closer, your body fully supported by the flat of the wall behind you and his hips under yours and one hand firmly anchored on your ass. With his arm free he cups your cheek, a pleased sound on his lips as he dips you back into the wall and deepens the kiss.

Heat blooms through you, your kisses getting needier, artless and desperate just to get a little closer together. The kind of kissing that sounds as messy as it is, tiny pants and moans muffled between you, skin on skin, tongue on tongue.

“God,” He shudders, his lips breaking away, but his eyes only flick over you for a second before he dives back in. This time his lips travel, hot kisses across your jaw and back to the hollow of your ear, down your throat as he holds you a little higher on the wall for the right access.

You grip his shoulders with one hand and lock your fingers in his mess of black hair with the other, your head falling back against the wall. He pants against your throat, a soft groan as he kisses, and your stomach tightens pleasantly.

“Y-Yunho,” You gasp, arousal rolling through you, and unconsciously you rock your hips, desperately seeking some kind of friction.

He hums low in his throat, kissing back up your neck fast to get to your lips again and his hand slides off your cheek as he crowds you tighter, bracing himself against the wall above your head. His abdomen presses against your core, and even through layers of fabric you feel his heat. Hungrily, you roll your hips again and catch a little pressure, moaning in earnest against his mouth.

Yunho makes a tight sound and then he breaks the kiss, his forehead pressing hard against yours as he takes in slow breaths, his body all but trembling with need as he holds you.

“We need to slow down,” He manages.

You can’t find words, not yet, but you nod against him.

“You deserve better,” He says, “dates, presents,”

You laugh softly, your hand in his hair softening from a grip to a gentle hold, carding through the long locks at the base of his neck, “I don’t need all that,”

He smiles wide, brushing off your words, “Still,” He sighs, still recovering from the heated make out, “I think I have more self control than fulfilling our bond by fucking you into the wall,”

Reality bleeds back in at that. Soulmarks were just that, indicator marks. A way to find your person amidst a sea of thousands, if not millions. All the shared sensation and emotion a precursor to something more permanent and binding, something only sealed together by sex.

You lift your head up, and he leans back to mirror you.

“I lost my head there,” You admit, warm blush in your cheeks, “I didn’t know it would feel like this,”

He smiles, and you take in his expression. His hair is a mess, mussed and disheveled and his face is pink from his nose down to the dark, well-kissed curve of his lips. His bare chest is flushed bright pink and his eyes are bright and warm. You fight the urge to kiss him again.

“Me either,” He shakes his head, “it’s incredible,”

“Overwhelming,” You nod, exhaling softly.

He makes a soft sound to agree and then starts to push back from the wall gingerly, letting you slowly unwrap your legs from his waist and ease down to the floor.

He lets you go when you’re steady on your feet and clears his throat, adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants and running a hand through his tangled locks. He’s hard, that much is obvious from the distinct outline of his cock through the gray fabric, but you do your best to look away and not think about how thick and heavy it looked just from kissing you.

“Jesus,” He adjusts his sweats again, “sorry,”

“It’s fine,” You cup your own cheeks with cool fingers, “I promise you’re not the only one,”

His eyes hold yours for a lengthy beat and then he swallows, taking a wide step back and nodding, “Right,” he shakes his head, “we’re supposed to be slowing down.”

“Slow,” You lean against the wall behind you, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to steady your thumping heart.

“I’m going over here,” He grins and walks to the far wall by the door to the bathroom, leaning back and crossing his own arms, “we really should talk,”

A pulse of anxiety flickers through you, and you realize just how quickly you went from his hotel room door to nearly falling into bed. He’s handsome, a kind man, your once upon a time crush, and certainly fated to be a good match for you, but that doesn’t mean you should throw out good sense and rush things. No matter how much your impulses were screaming at you to do just that.

You try to ignore the fact that there’s a bed between you, and you nod, “You’re right,” you finally say, “we barely know each other,”

Yunho’s smile fades just a bit, “I wouldn’t say that,”

“We’re coworkers,” The words tumble out, “I know what we’re both feeling, but,”

His brow furrows as he thinks through your words and he shakes his head, “y/n,” he cuts you off, “do you believe in soulmates?”

“Yes, of course,” Even if you hadn’t before, the way you’re feeling now would be enough to dispel any skeptic.

He takes in a quick breath, the sound sharp as he draws it through his teeth and he cocks his head slightly to the side, “You’re scared,” he massages the top of his sternum with his fingers, and you recognize your own chest is tight with anxiety, “I can feel it, talk to me.”

The instant vulnerability of the bond is startling, and you can feel your own expression crumble. It’s suddenly a bit like being an ant caught under a magnifying glass, too much sharp attention all at once and you swallow tightly, eyes flicking away from his tender gaze.

“y/n,” He murmurs, “I’m not pushing for more, not tonight,”

“Yeah,” Your voice is soft, too quiet for your own liking. Something about the way he sees you so clearly and so quickly makes you feel exposed, nervous and strangely childlike.

“Hey,” He breaks through your little thought spiral, “look at me,”

You straighten up again, finding his eyes.

“I’m just happy I found you,” He tells you, and you feel the truth of it in your gut, “we can figure everything else out together, and at our own pace, okay?”

Relief spreads through you, the knot in your chest loosening, “Promise?”

“Promise,” He nods, raising one hand with his pinky extended, “I just want us to try,”

You nod, extending your own pinky to seal it, “Me too.”

He smiles at that, “Barely know each other,” he scolds softly, “I’m offended.”

“Oh yeah?” Tension bleeds out of your shoulders.

“Mhm,” His expression is full of cheek, “I’m the one with a crush, remember? I notice things,”

Your stomach flips pleasantly and your arms relax from their tight position crossed over your chest, “What things?”

“Let’s see,” He starts, and for a brief moment you think maybe he’s bluffing, but the moment he starts you melt and he holds your gaze as he warmly recites all the little things he’s noticed about you over the years.

“You only wear silver jewelry,” he notes first, nodding towards you.

Your tight hands uncurl.

“You have a ridiculous sweet tooth,” The more he talks the more he relaxes against the far wall, “and you start getting flushed after the second shot of soju, you really are a lightweight,”

“You always pick a Big Bang song for karaoke, and you’re late to work every Monday,” He laughs a little at that and keeps going, “you don’t wear a lot of color but when you do it’s red. We’re both from Gwangju but you moved to Seoul when you were five,”

Your heart starts to beat a little faster, warmth filling you again and you don’t know if it’s your affection or his anymore, but it hardly matters.

“Um,” He takes a deep breath and glances away for a moment and then catches more threads from his memory, “you’re a Sagittarius, you’re a runner, and the last book I saw you reading was Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982. I bought it, but I haven’t had a chance to read it just yet,”

“Yunho,” You find yourself smiling, a hand over your surprised lips.

“I’m just saying,” He shrugs a little, “we aren’t strangers. I know this is scary and fast and going to change the rest of our lives,”

Elation, pure joy, spills over unfettered from his side of your new emotional tether.

“But I like you,” He confesses, “I have for a while, and this,” he brushes his fingers along his soulmark, “just changes the timeline.”

He’s yours.

You push off the wall, crossing the room and all but leap back into his embrace, your arms looping around his shoulders again as you push up on tiptoe to kiss his lips.

“This is real,” You murmur.

“Yes,” He cups your cheeks, nodding as he pecks your lips again.

“You’re mine,”

“Yes,” He grins.

“Oh, this is crazy,” You laugh, forehead against his again.

“We’ll go slow,” He assures you again, “we’ll figure it out together,”

“Together,” You nod.

He dips low once more, this kiss more tender, and he separates you both before things can heat up again. “Hmm,” He glances across the bed and makes a small face at the time displayed on the digital clock, “did you eat?”

“I tried to,” You confess, “I was nervous,”

“You need to eat,” He snaps up his black shirt from the bed and slips it back on, and your chest warms. It’s strangely domestic, strangely commonplace like you’ve been in this position a thousand times before.

Yunho adjusts his shirt and then kisses your hair as he passes by you, padding over to the hotel microwave and searching through the assorted snacks and instant meals, “It’s too late for room service,”

“I’m okay,” You pull your own sweater back on and sit on the edge of his bed.

“y/n,” He glances back, a softly scolding tone.

“Really, you need to sleep,” You offer.

He dismisses that thought, “But I’m hungry, eat with me?”

You concede, and while he starts whipping up two servings of ramen, you wonder if this is what he’s going to be like. It makes sense, he’s always been a caretaking kind of person, but having it so tenderly directed at you feels right.

“When we get home,” He says as he pours in the spice packets, “I’ll take you somewhere nice,”

“This is nice,” You smile.

“y/n,” He sets the ramen on a side table and sits next to you, “this is cup noodle from a hotel microwave,”

“The company is nice,” You take the ramen happily though, and tuck into the warm meal.

“It is,”

“Mm, you know,” You slurp back some noodles and softly clear your throat, “you weren’t the only one with a crush,”

He freezes, letting his noodles drop back into his cup, “What?”

“I’ve always liked you,” Your own confession feels easier after his, “I put it aside since we work together, but I guess, I mean, what I’m trying to say is that we both felt it before the mark, you’re not alone in that.”

“I had no idea,”

“I’m very professional,” You tease him lightly.

He nudges you and tucks back into his noodles, “How long?”

“Hmm,” You get more comfortable, crossing your legs and scooting back a little onto the mattress, “I thought you were cute when we first met,”

“God,” He groans, “we were such kids,”

You nod, swallowing another bite, “Mhm, you had that blonde hair,”

He laughs.

“I remember thinking, ‘that one’s trouble’,” You confess.

“Me?” His eyebrows perk up, “I’m perfectly nice,”

“Trouble as in you’re my type,” You roll your eyes, “but I don’t think the crush properly came until later. You’ve always made me laugh, and when I realized how I was feeling I just did my best to keep some distance,”

He nods, face getting a little serious, “I know what you mean,”

That knowledge leaves you both a little quiet. The late hour, the adrenaline come down, all of it barrels into you at the same moment as the next anxious thought. How in the world were you both going to navigate this with a contract as tight as theirs and the public eye always watching?

“Yunho,” You murmur, the last of your noodles left to go cold as you sit with that thought, “Are we going to be able to figure this out?”

“Figure what out?” He looks genuinely confused by your question, “Us?”

“You’re an idol,” You nod towards him, “I’m staff,”

He rests a hand on your knee, “We’ll be fine,”

“Aren’t your contracts,” You trail off, letting him fill in the blanks.

“They’re strict, yes,” He nods, “year seven,”

Dating, romance, even the perception of it was more than discouraged by companies in this industry, their artists contractually obligated to be single and available and dedicated only to their fans. Five years would have been the industry standard to prevent any idol from being caught out with a partner, let alone a potential soulmarked one, but seven is excessive.

You blanch, “That’s almost two years away,”

“We will find a way,” He says, “we’re not the first people in the industry this has happened to,”

“Really?” You perk up, “Who?”

He falls short, “Well, I don’t know exactly, but it’s bound to have happened.”

“And then ruined their careers,” You groan, flopping back flat on the mattress and covering your face with a hand, “which is why we’ve never heard of them,”

Yunho laughs, earnestly laughs, and takes the half empty ramen cup out of your hand to discard, “Maybe, but for now, let’s just stay positive. Get to know eachother better,”

You nod.

“Nothing can change the fact that we found each other,” He points out, dropping down onto his side on the bed next to you, “and I’m okay with that.”

“So we just lie to everyone?” You chew at the inside of your lip, staring up at the white ceiling.

“Hey,” Yunho’s fingers tuck under your chin and draw your eyes to him, “I know you’re anxious,”

You sigh, letting his softness calm you again.

“I know,” He repeats, “I am too, but we don’t have to decide anything tonight. We’re both tired and it’s been an emotional day,”

“Okay,” You nod, “okay, yes, you’re right,”

His thumb strokes over your cheek again, and you watch him exhale and sink further into your touch, “Will you stay tonight?”

That wakes you up.

Your eyebrows raise, “Stay?”

“Just to sleep,” He assures you, “I just… I don’t want to be without you yet,”

“I need to get back before Iseul wakes up if we do that,” You note with a grimace.

“What time?” He glances back to the clock.

“Seven,” You say, “her alarm is set for seven-thirty,”

“We can do that,” He grabs his phone off the side table and sets an alarm, “we’ll get up,”

The pull between your bodies is so strong you’re fairly sure you would have stayed no matter the consequences, but you nod, “Then I’ll stay,”

He grins and pushes himself off the bed, “I’ve got clothes, if you want to get comfortable,”

“Sure,” you sit up and wait for him to find things in his still packed suitcase.

“Um,” He pulls a pair of black sweatpants from the bag, “these should work, and if you get cold,”

You smile as he grabs a gray hoodie and comes back to you.

As you start to pull off your sweater again, he turns around and leaves his back to you, “Sorry,”

“Thanks,” You chuckle, making short work of changing. You’re swimming in his clothes, but his sweatshirt smells like him and you just want to bury your face into it, “you can turn around now,”

His shoulders relax as he turns back, and you watch his lips part as he takes you in.

“What?”

“You look cute,” He clears his throat, shrugging off his reaction.

You smile and ease back onto the bed, “Oh, I get it,” you laugh, “is your guy brain on fire because I’m wearing your clothes? Is this some kind of… you won the competition, ownership thing?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, kneeling on the bed to shuffle closer, “No competition when you’re literally fated for me,”

“Right,” You let the word drag out on your tongue to tease him.

“But I like taking care of you already, and now you’re warm and comfortable,” He collapses next to you onto the mattress with a sigh, “and I know I don’t own you, but you are mine, just like I’m yours now. I won’t apologize for liking you in my clothes or in my bed, for liking when you look like my girlfriend,”

Warmth blooms in your cheeks and you duck your face into the sheets.

“Now come get under the covers,” He maneuvers the duvet, “it’s late, you were dead on your feet today,”

His voice is so warm and familiar, and you slide into the covers beside him.

In bed you keep a little distance, and despite the number of times both of you say that you should go to sleep, your conversation is almost impossible to stop. Yunho holds your hand in the middle space of the mattress between your bodies, and in the dim lighting of the hotel room you whisper thought after thought back and forth. A million things coming to mind you need to tell each other so suddenly now that you’ve found each other.

As you talk his fingers travel, restlessly stroking your skin, up and down your arm and tapping out patterns. When his palm slides back and forth over the sharp lines of the tattoos on your upper arm, and you feel the question slipping out of your lips and revealing more about yourself than you intended before you can catch it.

“Your parents,” You blurt out, “will they be happy?” He’s spoken about them so much over the past hour that you can’t help but ask him that question point blank.

“So happy,” He responds with ease, a laugh on his lips, “they always worried me being an idol meant I’d never be able to find the one and settle down, they’re going to love this story,”

You smile at the easy way he calls you ‘the one’, but the question you really asked still remains unanswered and you exhale softly, “But,” you manage, “will they be happy with me?”

Yunho stills, reaching across the bed to hook his finger under your chin and draw your eyes up to his again, “Very happy,” he says, “just like I am.”

Your muscles relax, his words a soothing balm, and you adjust your position on the pillow beneath you, “Just checking,”

“Mhm,” He studies your face, “jagi, why wouldn’t they be happy with you?”

The endearment slips off his lips with ease, and a burst of warmth spreads through you. You’ve never needed pet names and softness like this from a partner, but from him it makes your heart quicken.

The momentary elation fades though, and his question comes back into your mind. You take a deep breath, you owe it to him to tell him now, “My family won’t be happy,”

“With me?” His eyebrows raise.

“It’s me,” You shake your head, “my parents have difficult ideals, and I’ve never pleased them. It wouldn’t matter who you were, they… they’ll find a way to not be happy for me.”

His eyes soften, and his thumb strokes along your jaw, “I’m sorry,”

“It is what it is,”

“Are your parents soulmates?” He asks softly.

You shake your head, “No, they don’t really believe in soulmarks,”

You watch his eyes widen in surprise.

“Unless,” You can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “the match is ‘fortuitous’,”

“For status?” He surmises.

“Status, money,” You shrug, “connection. But I think I could marry the next president and they’d still find a way to be disappointed in me,”

His jaw flexes tense for just a moment, before his expression smooths over again.

“Anyway,” You clear the bad thoughts away as quickly as they came, “my sister and I never went along like they wanted, like my cousins and the rest of my family, so we are the great disappointments. It’s not… it’s fine, but, I guess you should know before we, you know,”

He smiles, a bit of amusement in his expression that you can’t place, “Did you think having bad parents would scare me off?”

“It could,”

“No,” He slides a hand under your side and tugs you across the mattress to press a fast kiss to your lips, “it never could.”

“But I’m,” You start, all the reasons why a partner might care ringing in your ears.

“Beautiful?” He cuts you off, “Just my type? If it’s anything else I don’t want to hear you say it,”

Your stomach flip flops hard and you push lightly against his chest to get him to stop.

“The thing is,” He brushes your hair back from your cheek, “my parents are soulmates. I grew up in a house full of a lot of love, even when they were being strict and scolding us.”

Your smile at his warm expression.

“So I know they’ll love you,” He explains, “they know what this feels like, what it means. I have plenty of family for us both,”

Your throat constricts, tears threatening for a moment.

“Your sister, though,” He grounds you out of the bad thoughts without even thinking, “you two are close?”

“Very,”

“I’d like to meet her,” He smiles.

“You two would get along great, my sister and her wife both, actually,”

Yunho nods, listening attentively, “Do they have kids?”

“Not yet,” You groan, “but I’m dying to be an auntie,”

His thumb drags a comforting line across your cheekbone, his expression warm and affectionate, “Cute,”

You sink into the pillows, a yawn creeping up to your lips, “She’s going to lose her mind when I call her,”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” You huff a laugh, “she thought that when I started working here I should have found an inconspicuous way to bump into all of you to test possible bonds. She’s going to be riding the ‘I told you so’ train.”

“She’s funny,” He smirks.

“Very,” You sigh, unconsciously cuddling into his warmth.

“Has it been a while since you’ve seen her?” He asks softly, adjusting his arms around you so that you’re cradled against his chest with the pillows at your back.

“Mhm,” You yawn again, the warmth of his body settling the last of the adrenaline inside you, “a while,”

“Let’s find a day off after the tour,” He tucks the duvet around you.

“Yeah?” Your eyes feel heavy.

“Yeah,” He kisses your forehead.

“Yunho,” You yawn again, dipping your forehead into his chest, “God, I’m so tired again,”

“Mhm,” He yawns too, “me too, jagi,”

You hum softly, fingers slipping under the edge of his shirt just to feel a little skin, “I like that,” you murmur, “I like you,”

“I like you too,” He chuckles, “now go to sleep,”

A piece of you wants to protest, wants more time cocooned in this day with him, but something about his body feels so right. After a week of sleeping poorly, your body tight and anxious and heart fluttering for no reason at all, when he touches you, your mind goes blissfully blank.

Your muscles relax, your breath dropping low and soft in your chest.

Nuzzled against his tattoo, you drift.

You’re supposed to wake up to an alarm. Early enough that you could slip back into your hotel room and your own bed to yawn and stretch next to Iseul and make her believe you were there the whole night. That’s what was supposed to happen.

Instead, you wake to the heavy sound of a hotel door and Seonghwa’s voice, Yunho jolting awake beside you.

“Oh my god,” Seonghwa says for what sounds like the third time to your fuzzy sleep-addled brain, “oh my god?”

“Hyung,” Yunho pushes himself up, his arms unwinding from around you, “hey, don’t freak out,”

“Don’t freak out,” Seonghwa’s eyes blow wide, “are you fucking kidding me? Hongjoong is going to kill you,”

“You don’t understand,” Sleep is still heavy on him and he shakes his head to try to pull himself away.

“I understand plenty,” Seonghwa counters, “how long have you been lying to us?”

His reaction surprises you, and you ease yourself up to sit next to Yunho. You’re not sure what to say or not say, you don’t know what they’ve discussed in the past when it comes to dating and relationships, but by Seonghwa’s outburst you can guess it’s honesty at a minimum.

Yunho’s face falls, “No, it’s not that,”

“I can tell you what it looks like,” Seonghwa lowers his voice to what amounts to a stage whisper.

“Hyung,” Yunho rubs his eyes, running a hand through his mop of black hair.

“It looks like you’ve been sneaking around,” He continues, “how long have you two been fucking?”

“Hey,�� Yunho’s voice sharpens, and his hand crosses your body to anchor on your opposite thigh.

Seonghwa’s eyes track it and he shakes his head, “This is so stupid,” he steps back in surprise, “you’re both being so, incredibly stupid.”

Yunho gives you a squeeze and opens his mouth to reply but Seonghwa keeps going.

“Naive is what it is,”

Irritation bubbles in your gut and you can’t stop yourself, “Seonghwa, will you shut up for one second?”

He stops in his tracks, mouth falling open, “What?”

“Can you please,” You hold his gaze, “please, just listen to Yunho for a minute before you jump to conclusions.”

He shifts, taking a step back and crossing his arms, and then he looks to Yunho.

Yunho finds your eyes quickly, silently asking, and you give him a nod.

“Okay,” Yunho runs a hand through his hair again, “I’ll just say it.”

Seonghwa waits, his expression completely neutral except for the irritated corner of his lips.

“y/n is my soulmate,” Yunho squeezes your thigh again and you slip your hand into his to twine your fingers together, “we didn’t know, but now we do.”

Seonghwa’s brows go high, shock filling his features.

“We’re not hiding,” You add, “we just… it’s just,”

“How long?” Seonghwa manages.

“Soundcheck yesterday,” Yunho says, “we haven’t known long enough to lie, hyung.”

“You’re sure?” He looks between you both, and you know what he’s thinking. How could it be possible to know each other for years and not know.

“We’re sure,” You answer confidently, calmly, “I swear,”

“It’s real,” Yunho’s thumb strokes across knuckles, “it’s very real.”

Seonghwa swallows, taking in the news and sinks back against the hotel dresser, “Well, fuck,”

“Yeah,” Yunho laughs.

“You were off timing yesterday,” Seonghwa points out, “and distracted,”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Yunho grimaces.

“No, but,” He shrugs, “I know you and you’re never off time.”

“It wasn’t easy to focus on the show yesterday,” Yunho admits.

“I’m sorry,” You nudge him with your shoulder, knowing a huge portion of that must have been the panic flooding his side of the link.

He shakes his head, “There’s nothing to be sorry for,”

When you look back up, Seonghwa is smiling and he sighs, “Oh, you’ve both got it bad.”

“Obviously,” You hide your face in your sweatshirt sleeve.

“So, what’s the plan?” Seonghwa asks, “Because you can’t act like this around anyone else,”

Your mouth feels dry.

“We don’t know,” Yunho answers, “we have to figure that out, for now I think we just try to keep things normal.”

Seonghwa nods and then leans forward, “Listen, I know you’re not asking for my advice,”

You both wait.

“But you're my brother,” Seonghwa says unequivocally, “so I’m going to give you some anyway.”

Yunho nods.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” Seonghwa points out, “and I’m sure it will be hard to act like acquaintances in front of everyone, but you have to do it, at least until you make a plan.”

“Yeah,” Yunho’s cheeks are a little pink and he squeezes your hand.

“No one fires the idol for things like this,” He reminds you both, “so for her sake, put it away for today.”

“He’s right,” You nod, “today we go back to coworkers,”

Yunho draws your clasped hands up and kisses your fingers, “Okay,”

“You’re lucky I offered to check on you,” Seonghwa sighs heavily, “if any of the managers came in,”

“Check on me?” Yunho perks up at that, “Hwa, why,”

Things come into focus for you at that moment, how bright the hotel room is with sunlight, how well rested you really feel. You twist in the bed and look at the digital clock, “Oh no,”

“You were late,” Seonghwa explains, “we figured you overslept, I offered to use the spare key to get you up.”

“Fuck,” Yunho curses.

You both slept straight through Yunho’s alarm.

“Iseul is going to fucking kill me,” You roll out of bed, your hands breaking apart as you scramble for you phone, “what the hell am I going to tell her?”

Your phone reads nine-thirty. In thirty minutes you’re supposed to be packed into a van and on the way to the venue and when you look at the collection of notifications your stomach churns.

Three calls from Iseul, and a lengthy string of text messages.

Did you already get up and get ready?

Your work bag is still here…

Not funny, girl, where are you?

Did you make it back last night?

Can you answer me??

I’m getting worried. I haven’t heard anything - You haven’t even read these?

You better not be dead in a ditch, I’ll kill you myself.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Your hands are trembling as you tap out the fastest reply - Alive, be right there.

Yunho’s a whirlwind behind you, stripping out of his sleep clothes and yanking on whatever outfit is at the top of his suitcase, “It’s fine, it’s going to be fine,”

“Sure,” You search the floor for your jeans and dart into the bathroom, “my best friend is going to murder me though,”

You change at lightning speed, swapping his sweats for your jeans and then tying up your hair into a messy bun before pushing back out into the main room.

“Everyone’s downstairs,” Seonghwa offers, “you shouldn’t run into anyone on the way back to your room.”

“Good, okay, good,” Your heart is pounding, “where’s my room key?”

“Here,” Yunho darts forwards and finds the little envelope, passing it to you, “take a breath,”

“I have to go,” You manage, “I have to think of something,”

“Don’t kiss and tell,” Seonghwa offers and he’s being funny but it’s vaguely helpful.

“Wait,” Yunho grabs your hand and tugs you back, snapping your phone out of your hand.

“Yunho, I don’t,” You start to say but he waves you off.

He types fast, adding himself as a contact in Kakao Talk, “My number,” he explains.

Seonghwa huffs a laugh.

You take the phone back and tuck it into your pocket, “I’ll message you later,”

“Good,” He dips forwards and presses one warm, tender kiss to your lips, “now get out of here,”

You kiss him back, just once and fast, a little shred of self indulgence before you have to act like he’s just another guy, and then you’re darting out of the room, shouting back a thank you at Seonghwa as you go.

You navigate the halls fast, and opt to take the stairs to get down one floor faster and more inconspicuously. You take a deep breath when you get to your hotel door, and then you dive.

“So you are alive,” Iseul’s waiting, just like you thought she might be. She’s sitting on your still made bed, her phone in her hands and a tense expression on her face, “I was just about to tell the managers you were missing,”

“I’m so sorry, seriously, I didn’t mean to worry you,” You take a few steps into the room.

Her eyes flick over you, and you realize at the moment her eyes widen that you’re still wearing Yunho’s hoodie, your sweater still discarded on his bedroom floor.

“You hooked up with someone?” Her voice spikes, “Are you kidding me?”

Thankfully the hoodie is plain, just a heather gray with no identifying attributes that scream his name, but you’re still swimming in it and it’s clear you’re rumpled from bed.

“Listen,” You hold up your hands, “I didn’t mean to not text you, I just fell asleep,”

“With some guy?” She stands.

“Yes,” You settle on some version of the truth.

“Who?” She flounders, “We’re supposed to text each other,”

And you always did, when either one of you went home with someone there was always a little preemptive safety report. A name, an address, a shared location, something so that you weren’t completely alone in the world with a strange guy.

“I’m sorry,” You say again.

She studies you, and it’s like she’s looking through you.

“Oh my god,” Her eyes widen, “we know him.”

“Iseul,” Your cheeks heat.

She points at you, “I’m right!”

“It’s not a big deal,” You skirt around her words.

“The only reason you wouldn’t text me is if you were with someone we both know,” She narrows her eyes, “so give it up.”

“I can’t,” You press, “leave it,”

“Why are you being so weird?”

“Iseul,” You sigh, avoiding her gaze, “I just woke up in a panic, and I have like fifteen minutes to get showered, can you give me the third degree later?”

“I’m not letting this go,”

“Yeah,” You pull off Yunho’s sweatshirt and head to the bathroom, “I know, but we have work.”

“Work with a coworker you slept with,” She stands in the doorway while you start the shower, and you realize her tone isn’t so much as angry anymore but probing.

“I didn’t sleep with him,” You groan, “well, I guess I did, but we didn’t have sex, okay?”

“That’s awfully cozy for a one night stand,” She crosses her arms, “unless you’re seeing someone? Are you seeing someone?”

“No,” You test the water heat and unbutton your jeans, “I swear I’ll explain another time, but can you just drop it for today? Or do you want to stand here and watch me shower?”

“Fine,” She concedes, “you will tell me?”

“I swear,” You nod, “I want to tell you, but I’m not ready yet, okay?”

Her eyes soften up at that, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You nod, “but I’m having big feelings about it and I need to work it out,”

“Oh,” In all the years you’ve known her, she’s never seen you in love or even close, and she just blinks, “got it,”

“Can I shower now?” You gesture towards the running water.

“Yeah,” She steps back, “yeah, but I’m still mad you didn’t text me.”

“Okay,”

“And I’m still going to guess who it is,” She smirks.

“Fine,”

Her smile widens and she rolls her eyes, “I bet it’s one of the BB guys, isn’t it? You always like a dancer,”

She turns the corner before she can watch you blushing harder, so nearly on the money with her guess, but you put it all out of your mind for now and focus on your day. You’re late, and it’s about to be another long one. You’ll have time for everything else later, if you can just keep your cool.

Work is bizarre to say the least. You and Yunho both do an excellent job of not looking at each other except for when he’s in your makeup chair, and you’re getting better and better at ignoring both San’s and Seonghwa’s nervous glances.

This time you start the makeup early, less time pressure with the schedule adjustments, and the night goes off without a hitch. Soundcheck to stage to VIP benefits, it’s a whirlwind and you’re grateful for the distractions everywhere you look.

You can still feel him, emotions from his side of the link ebbing and flowing throughout the day, but the sharp intensity of yesterday has dulled a bit after your night together. In quiet moments you find yourself thinking about his lips, or the way his hands held you as you tumbled into sleep, but you push it down and stay professional.

As the show ends, Iseul ropes you into team dinner, desperate to observe who you interact with and how, still on her quest to find your mystery bed partner, but the boys aren’t there and so there’s nothing for her to really see.

Later, with Iseul passed out from one too many shots of soju, you slip back into Yunho’s hoodie and cuddle into the warmth of your own bed. You need more sleep, you know that, but your brain isn’t cooperating. You toss and turn in the sheets, body feeling like a taut cord, and all you can think of is him.

You miss him.

It’s not even two days of having him in your life like this and you feel nervous and achy without him. There’s no way you’ll survive two years of this.

Over an hour passes as you sigh, changing positions again and again, and then your phone finally buzzes. You scramble to see if it’s a message from him, nearly dropping your phone in the process.

Can’t sleep? - He must be feeling your restlessness.

Not at all - You reply, chest feeling warm at the contact.

Little bubbles pop up immediately to indicate he’s typing and then another message pops on your screen - You’d think after last night we’d both be exhausted.

So you’re as awake as I am?

Just can’t relax. I liked having you here last night. - He confesses.

You roll over in the bedding onto your front and push the pillow under your chest before you keep texting - I liked it too. I’d come up except Iseul wouldn’t lay off guessing who I was with this morning.

Oh? Did she guess correctly? - You can practically see the smirk on his face.

Nope - You tease back.

Was she upset? - He asks.

At first, but I told her I would tell her soon I just needed some time - You reply.

That’s good, honest. - His message makes you smile.

How was Seonghwa? - You tap out.

Fine…. stressing and acting like a hyung, you know - He says.

You smile and type out another message - Is he keeping this to himself for now?

Yes - Yunho’s message comes in, and then another - For now, he knows we need to decide things first.

That’s good - You send back.

Things lull for a moment, and you try to think of something more to say, but Yunho swoops in with a question that makes you bite your lip to keep from laughing - Who did Iseul guess you were with? Was I even on the list?

I thought you’d be happy she didn’t guess - You reply.

Bubbles appear immediately, then another message - I’m a little offended, I’m the obvious choice.

Why’s that? - You tease him.

You feel something warm in your chest, and his next message flies back - I thought I was your type?

You stifle another laugh - You are, she’s not very observant.

So who did she guess?

Your belly flip flops and you hide your face in the pillow for a moment. His obvious jealousy, even just to tease you, is making your heart quicken and you can’t stop yourself from making it harder on him.

You take a breath and reply - About half the BB crew and a few of your managers.

The replies don’t come for a moment, and you nervously refresh the chat.

Finally a message comes in - I’m trying to think of something funny to say, but I’m actually just irrationally jealous.

She was just teasing, no need to be jealous - You smile into your hand.

Doesn’t matter - He says - Now I’m just here alone wondering which of our coworkers Iseul thinks you have chemistry with

He is jealous. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the swooping sensation in your belly and press your legs a little tighter together. If you close your eyes you can feel the echo of his hands on you from last night, and all you want in the world is for him to come down here and kiss you hard like that again.

With a slow exhale you return to your phone - Don’t be jealous, Yunho. We both know I’m yours.

Yeah? - His reply comes after a beat - No need to be jealous then.

Exactly - You reply.

I bet you like it a little though - His message flies in as yours sends.

You feel warm all over and you run a nervous hand through your hair before replying - No, I don’t.

Jagi, you forget I can feel how worked up you’re getting.

Your stomach clenches, drops and twists. He’s going to be the death of you and you’re still just flirting.

You work up the courage and finally send your reply - You’re the one that pinned me to the wall last night.

I’ve been thinking about that all day - The message reply is fast.

You smile and bite your lip, snuggling further into the mattress and trying to ignore the growing pulse between your thighs - You did seem distracted during rehearsals.

You feel warmth in your chest, and you know exactly how much your flirting is affecting him. Another text pings through and you shiver when you read it - How could I not be distracted with you there? All I could think about was the way you said my name last night.

Your thighs press together - Yunho?

Yes, jagi?

Or more whiny, was it? Yunho-ya? - You type it out fully, emphasizing the extended sound, knowing exactly what he wants to hear from the way he gripped you last night.

The room is suddenly hot, and your heart beats faster to sync with his.

It takes a moment for him to respond, bubbles popping up and then receding again and you wonder how he’s lying in bed. If he’s hard already, if he’s palming himself? You wonder if he sleeps naked when he’s alone and youre core clenches, arousal pooling in your gut and you know he can feel the threads of it. When he finally presses send on his message you have to cover your mouth to keep quiet.

Feeling needy? Are you squirming around in that hotel bed wishing for me, sweetheart?

You feel that message from your top to your toes and you steal a fast glance at the bed next to you. Iseul is sound asleep, turned away from you and snoring softly, and you let out a relieved, shuddering breath.

You could pump the brakes here, tease him and find a way to say goodnight, but you simply can’t. Need and arousal overwhelms you and you tap back your reply fast - I’ve been aching all day.

Do you have headphones?

The question catches you off guard, but you write back - Yes, airpods.

Put them in - He says, and you swallow tightly, reaching for the little headphone case on your bedside table.

Your fingers are shaking as you take them out of the case and put them in, making sure they’re connected before you reply - Done.

His call lights up your phone, ringing in your headphones and you swipe to answer with a panicked glance at the bed next to you, but Iseul sleeps on, none the wiser.

“y/n?” His voice is so rich and quiet, a little raspy edge after singing all night and you nearly moan.

“Hi,” You whisper as soft as you can, “I can’t,”

“Don’t talk,” He soothes you, “don’t wake Iseul up, I’ll talk to you and you can text me back, okay?”

You minimize the call and open your chat back up, sending him a quick emoji to acknowledge his words.

“Perfect,” He laughs softly, “this is way easier than texting. Listen, I know we said slow, but I’d love to help you relax if you want that. If not, I can just say goodnight, it’s up to you.”

You exhale softly, a needy thrill in your gut - Let’s relax together.

“Oh,” He sighs pleasantly, “yes, I’d love that.”

You want me? - You ask.

“You can feel how much I do,” He responds, “I’m sitting here convincing myself not to come downstairs and get my hands on you.”

You hum softly, shifting in the sheets and relaxing deeper into the pillows.

You hear his own breath, the way he parts his lips with a wet sound, “Can you tell me what position you’re in?”

You tap out the reply - Lying on my front, on my stomach.

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased, “I bet you look so cute, all twisted up in the sheets and blushing,”

I was tossing and turning.

“I bet you were,” He groans a little, “I tried everything. I hit the gym, cold shower, did some deep breathing, but you have me so keyed up I can’t sleep,”

You send him another emoji, the blushing face.

He laughs, the rumble of it too deep and warm in your ear with your headphones in.

You tap out another message - What position are you in? Trying to picture it.

You hear him shift around in the sheets, “I’m on my back,”

Wearing?

He chuckles, “Aren’t I supposed to be the one asking what you’re wearing?”

I asked you first.

“Fair,” He shifts again, and you picture him restless on his back in the bed you shared the night before, “just boxers,”

A heavy sigh passes through your lips.

“And you?”

You wish it were sexier all of a sudden, but that just wouldn’t be practical in a room with your friend so you tell him honestly - Pajamas, the button down kind, they’re gray.

“God, you’re adorable,” The covers on his end shift again, “wish you were up here with me.”

Me too

“This is probably better,” He says though, “I don’t think I could hold myself back for another night.”

Me either - You confess.

“y/n,” His voice warms, low in his chest, “jagiya, can I help you? Can I tell you what I want you to do?”

Your hands are shaking and you type the reply so fast there’s a typo that you have to fix - Pfease - Please.

He chuckles, “Alright, get comfortable, just listen to my voice, okay?”

You message him one last thought - What about you?

“I’m… I’m, uh,” He lets out a shaky breath, ��I’m already stroking for you,”

You press your lips together to keep from making a sound, dropping your forehead to the pillow in front of you.

That’s so hot - You text him quickly when you hear him say your name, probably a little nervous he came on too strong.

He hums, “Good,” he says, “then don’t worry about me, just listen to my voice.”

You set your phone to the side, snuggling into the mattress and the pillows just like he asked for, sparing one more glance at Iseul to confirm she’s still completely out of it.

“Comfy?” He asks when you stop shifting around.

“Mhm,” You murmur in a whisper.

“Good,” He sighs, “now slip one of your hands under your cute little pajamas, between your thighs.”

You slide your arm down, tucking it under your body and into your sleep pants.

“Under your panties too,” He says, his voice a little husky.

“Mhm,” You murmur again, following his words.

“Tease a little for me,” He instructs you, “not too fast, just your fingertips on the outside,”

You breathe low and slow, gently passing the pads of your fingers over your slit, just barely ghosting against the hard nub of your clit.

“I bet you look so pretty right now,” He groans a little and you hear the sound of sheets, “you make the cutest faces when you’re feeling good,”

You make the tiniest noise of acknowledgement, fingers still brushing your cunt.

“Can’t wait to see you fall apart for real,” He confesses, a strain in his tone as he sighs, and you picture him. His long legs spread wide in the bed, stretching from corner to corner, his boxer briefs pushed down and his hand fisting his cock.

You’re going to lose it when you finally get to touch him again.

“You can touch now,” He murmurs, getting your attention back, “are you wet?”

You push your fingers through your folds and sigh when you feel just how slick and swollen you are. With your other hand you find the phone nearby and tap out a quick message - So wet

“That’s good, that’s so good,”

Your fingers start to circle on your oversensitive nub and there’s no way he won’t have you coming in five minutes or less with it feeling this good and his heavy breath in your ear.

“R-rub your clit for me,” He pants and your eyes roll, you can hear the sounds of the sheets rhythmically swishing as he pumps his cock harder, “get your fingers nice and wet,”

You whimper into the pillow, biting down hard on your cheek to keep yourself in check.

“Oh, fuck,” He groans, “sound so pretty,”

You rub harder, faster, your legs stretching wide under the downy comforter to give you better access.

“Baby,” He gets your attention with that, “push two fingers inside yourself, imagine I’m there with you,”

You shift, hand slipping lower and body arching to slide your middle and ring finger as deep as they’ll go. You stay mostly quiet this time, but your breathing is heavy and you’re sure he can hear it.

“Close your eyes,” He murmurs, “picture my fingers,”

You gasp softly.

“Grind,” He tells you, “grind your pussy on my palm and feel my fingers fucking you,”

You bite back a moan, only the slip of a soft sound into the microphone as you start to rock, rolling your hips and working your clit against your hand as you sink into his fantasy. You always took him for soft, the romantic type who’d blush at saying the word ‘pussy’ let alone talking you through what’s bound to be the headiest orgasm of your life, but you’ve never been so happy to be wrong.

“Yes,” Yunho moans and you shudder, “I can hear you moving, you’re doing so good,”

Pleasurable stars burst behind your eyes and you grind harder into your slick palm.

“So good,” He groans and you hear him roll in the bedding, his voice changing to something lower and breathier, and then the rhythmic rock of sheets from his side of the phone tells you all you need to know. You can almost see it, Yunho braced on his forearms, hips thrusting to drive his cock in and out of his hot fist, his face buried in the pillow you slept on the night before.

Heat melts through you, your body alight, and you grapple to find the phone again - Close

“Already?” He says in a flushed exhale, “You’re so hot, that’s so hot,”

You need him to talk to you, you need him to tell you what to do, and you whimper into the bedding as you work your body faster up to the peak.

“You gonna come for me?” He murmurs, “Yeah? Hmm?”

You drop the phone and press a hand over your lips, stifling the threat of a real moan.

“Let go,” His voice is so low in your ear you can practically feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, “come for me,”

Your legs are trembling, knees digging into the mattress and sweat gathered on your brow, and you feel the pressure start to crack open inside you, “Coming,” you whimper into your fingers so he knows, and then it breaks.

“God, good girl, yes,” He groans, “I’m coming with you, fuck,”

Your body curls into itself as you release, locking up in pleasure as you feel wave after wave of heat. You bite down on your knuckle to keep from making a sound, silently falling apart, dimly aware somewhere in your gut that half the heat you felt was his, that part of that pleasure was his own.

Yunho moans in your ear as you ride the sensations, panting and cursing and you can’t wait to feel him pulsing inside you while he sounds this good.

You’re not sure how long it takes you to recover, but when your brain starts to connect again you realize you’re panting against the cool flat of the mattress and both your phone and pillow are nowhere to be found. You swallow hard and pop your head up, but Iseul hasn’t moved an inch and you thank god for her liberal use of melatonin while traveling.

In your ear you register the sound of Yunho’s breath and the end of a sentence, “still there?”

He must have been talking, and you try to focus in on the sound of him now as you slip your hand out from between your sticky thighs.

He exhales slowly and you hear him shifting around, “y/n, baby, are you there?”

“Uh-huh,” You manage.

“Sleepy?” He murmurs, misreading your sound, “That’s okay,”

You make a tiny noise of protest and search the bed for your phone.

“Baby?” He’s confused and you grin at his sleepy sated tone.

Sliding off the bed onto nearly boneless legs, you find your pillow off to the side and your phone underneath. You snap it up and send a message quickly - Wait

“Wait?” He breathes, “Sure, I’m not going anywhere, I’m here,”

You tiptoe to the bathroom as quietly as you can and then shut yourself behind the heavy door, flicking on the light and collapsing to sit on the closed toilet lid.

You disconnect your earbuds and bring your phone to your ear, “Hey,”

“Hey,” He murmurs, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” You smile, still a little breathless, “Hiding in the bathroom for a sec so I could actually talk to you,”

He hums, a quiet, lazy laugh, “Ah,”

“Are you okay?” You find yourself asking, a little nervous tumble in your gut.

“Me?” He says, “I’m incredible, you’re incredible,”

“Yeah?” You draw your knees up, wrapping your arms around yourself and smiling into the phone.

“That wasn’t too much, was it?” He checks, but you still hear the sound of him calling you ‘good girl’ and you shiver.

“Not too much,” You sigh into the phone.

“Good,” He hums, “I thought so, I was trying to pay attention to how you were feeling, but it was a little,”

“Hard to focus?” You offer and he laughs.

“Yeah,” He sighs again, heavy and sated.

“I can’t wait for this tour to be over,” You confess, “I just want to be with you,”

You feel a pang in your chest and listen as Yunho rolls in the sheets, “I know, I want that too,”

A little lump forms in your throat and you breathe through it, “Yunho,”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Have you ever felt like this before?” Your thundering heart has started to slow, and you let your eyes close as you murmur the question.

“Never,” He murmurs, “but I felt this way before we touched,”

You feel his tenderness wrap around your heart as if he were in the room with you, and with a small smile you whisper, “I thought you said you weren’t holding a candle?”

“I lied,” He says softly, “it’s been you for a long time,”

He doesn’t say it, not in so many words, but you feel the way he loves you through the link in a wave. It’s as good as any confession to you, just as honest if not more so.

“I wish I could come upstairs,” You manage, tears pricking your eyes.

You hear him swallow and breathe a slow breath through his nose, “Soon, I promise. We’re going to do this right,”

“I know,”

“Are your headphones still in?” He asks

“No, but I can switch back,”

“Put them back in and go get back in bed,” He softly instructs, “it’s late, but I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, okay?”

“Okay,” You swap back over to your earbuds and adjust them.

“Get back to bed,” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yunho,” You interrupt him, “thank you for staying with me,”

“Always,” He says, and for the first time in your life when someone says they’ll be there, you believe it.

“I’m going back out,” Your voice drops to a whisper, “good night,”

“Mhm,” He listens as you slip back into bed, “just get comfortable, just breathe. I’m right here with you, jagiya, I’ll be right here.”

He murmurs to you softly until your mind is sinking into darkness, body finally unspooling and letting you drop off into sleep. It’s not the same as his arms around you, but it settles you more than any meditation, his voice a steady whisper through your dreams.

In the morning when you wake the call is still connected and the first sound you hear is his slow breath and the steady beat of his heart.

#yunho #jeong yunho #honeyhotteoks fic #yunho x reader #yunho fic #yunho ff #yunho smut #yunho fluff #ateez #ateez fic #ateez ff

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muniimyg · 7 months ago

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♡ 01: maybe it's all in my head

series m.list // taglist

note: hihiii ,, this jk has been rotting my mind for a while now ... time to ruin urs !!! enj the tension ,, (i miss being toxic) lmk what u guys think of their dynamic tho <3 excited to share their little story with u ,, mwaaaa

warnings: oc and jk are mean in this fic !!! pls don't comment being whiney abt it :') !!! oc overhears jk fucking someone ,, jealousy ,, banter

“oh. it’s you.”

leaning against the doorframe, jungkook looks at you half disgusted and half disappointed. his arms are crossed with one eyebrow lifted. he blocks your entrance.

“now, now,” you reach over and ruffle his hair. he shifts, dodging your touch. “don’t be so excited. i know your boring life just waits for my presence—oh. i get it. were you expecting someone? usually you’re thrilled to see me.”

jungkook’s expression doesn’t shift, though there’s a faint glint in his eyes.

“thrilled is reaching, don’t you think?”

“is it?”

“yeah.”

you roll your eyes, brushing past him with a teasing smile.

“right, so… which are you today? mr. save the dolphins or professor chem?”

jungkook scoffs at you.

“at least my marine conservation interest and organic chem major help the world. what’s your major again? yap-conomics or bitch-ology?”

“help the world?” you almost burst into laughter. “god, you are such a nerd.”

“nerd? i don’t know about you, but some of us care about—”

“yeah, yeah,” you wave him off. “are you waiting for a nobel peace prize or something? holy shit, jungkook. learn to relax a little. you’re so serious. it’s cute, really… but only when you aren’t so anal about it.”

cute?

jungkook feels his chest tighten.

before he can make a comeback, taehyung calls you to the living room.

“___? is that you? stop trying to edge jungkook! get in here! i need your data for our paper!”

you stick your tongue out at jungkook before turning away and rushing to the living room. your lips curl into a smug grin as you saunter off, leaving jungkook muttering something under his breath. you catch him rolling his eyes just before you disappear around the corner, a small flicker of triumph igniting in your chest.

the living room is warm, filled with the faint hum of taehyung’s lo-fi playlist and the smell of old books—his aesthetic, no doubt. taehyung is sprawled on the couch, laptop open, an arm draped lazily over the cushions. his wide grin grows wider when he sees you.

“i’m here!”

“finally! come on, genius. enlighten me,” he says, patting the seat next to him.

you plop down beside him, legs folded under you, your laptop balanced precariously on your knees. “genius? are you sucking up to me because you didn’t do your part of the project yet?”

“yup,” he says, shrugging, his head tilted lazily to the side. “if you don’t send me that data tonight, though, i might call you something less flattering.”

you laugh, the sound soft and light, and lean into the cushions, already pulling up the necessary files.

“your boyfriend’s in a mood.”

“he always is when you’re around,” taehyung teases. “he only answered the door cos he thought it was his student. your face must’ve pissed him off.”

chuckling at his response, you ask another question.

“where are the guys?”

“they’ll be home soon,” taehyung answers. “said they wanna eat out tonight after jungkook’s tutoring session. you coming with?”

“sure,” you agree.

then, the two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm, bouncing ideas back and forth while taehyung clicks through your notes, occasionally throwing in a sarcastic remark or two that makes you nudge him with your elbow.

a few minutes later, you hear an unfamiliar laugh and footsteps approaching.

jungkook strides in, casual and confident as always, but this time a girl is trailing after him.

she’s pretty.

the two exchange a few murmured words before jungkook’s eyes flicker briefly in your direction. he raises a hand in a lazy acknowledgment, the girl following suit, and say hi. taehyung nods at them and then they’re gone—slipping upstairs in the blink of an eye.

the sound of his bedroom door clicking shut echoes faintly.

and then, it rings in your ear.

you blink, your fingers frozen mid-typing on the keyboard. something gnaws at your chest, sharp and unfamiliar, leaving a bitter taste at the back of your throat. taehyung, oblivious, scrolls through your notes, muttering about formatting errors.

but you… you’re somewhere else entirely.

what was that?

no name?

no introduction?

did she think you were taehyung's girlfriend or something? that jungkook was all for her?

oh god.

there's a weird twist in your stomach. it feels like a prickle of irritation spreading across your skin like an itch you can’t scratch… you shake your head, trying to brush it off, but the image of jungkook—smirking as usual, leaning casually against the banister, that girl so effortlessly fitting into the space beside him—lingers, stubborn and unshakable…

what the fuck.

it’s not like you and jungkook are close.

you’re frenemies, at best.

unsure of when it started exactly—but it’s been happening long enough for it to be routine and well-known in the friendgroup. you two are the kind of people who throw jabs at each other during game nights and compete to see who can make the snarkiest comment without crossing the line. you’re always caught in this stupid cycle of one-upping each other, all for the entertainment of the group. sometimes, more for yourself. life gets boring pretty quickly, and jungkook is your fastest source of entertainment.

yet, why does it feel like you’ve just lost some unspoken game?

your chest tightens, and you lower your gaze to your laptop, fingers hovering over the keys. you bite the inside of your cheek, a nervous habit you’ve never been able to kick… this icky feeling begins to take over and your mind races with reasons as to why.

maybe it’s because jungkook’s always been so good at getting under your skin.

maybe it’s because, for all his teasing and relentless bickering, there’s this… comfort in knowing that he’s always there, right across the table, firing back at you like he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

and maybe that’s the problem.

because now, with someone else upstairs, laughing at something he probably said, you’re starting to realize that you might actually care more than you thought.

maybe you care because you’re not the one in his room he’s trying to make laugh.

after a few hours pass, everyone’s stomach beings to grumble.

for the past 20 minutes, the guys have been begging you to go up and call jungkook down. he hasn’t been answering their texts and all argue that if they go up and knock; he’ll just ignore them.

… but if you do it…

he’ll answer.

even if it’s just to insult you.

you glance up at the clock, already mentally calculating the time. you're not really in the mood for another round of back-and-forth with him, but you know they'll just keep pushing you.

"please, please, please, ___!” taehyung cries, pouting. “i really need pad thai. like… so bad. like, i might die. please go get jungkook.”

you hesitate, your eyes flicking to the stairs.

jungkook hasn’t come out at all. you don’t want to disturb anything and he’s a total grumpy-head when his study time is disrupted… what more if it’s a tutoring lesson? the last time you went up there, it ended with you calling him a dumbass and him tossing a pillow at you.

“i think you guys can go get him this time," you say, turning your attention back to your phone, pretending to scroll through a message.

"oh come on," jimin presses. "you know, at the end of the day… he only really listens to you." his voice drips with exaggeration, but it only makes you roll your eyes.

"yeah, that’s true…" hobi adds with a playful smirk, leaning back into the couch. "you’re like his… little bitch or something."

you shoot them both a look. “you think i’m his bitch?"

“either that or he’s your little bitch.”

you scoff at him. “please do not disgrace bitches by associating them with him.”

“fine, fine,” jin says with a dramatic sigh, raising his hands in mock surrender. “we won’t force you to go up… we’ll bribe you!”

your interest piques as you glance up at him, eyebrow raised.��

“bribe me? how much cash do you have today?”

yoongi and nam joon share a look. then, nam joon leans forward, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

“milk tea," he offers, his voice low and enticing, like he knows exactly what will catch your attention. "… any boba store you want. any time… for a week, ___.”

you try to fight the grin that starts tugging at your lips.

fuck it.

you nod begrudgingly, slipping your phone into your pocket.

“deal.”

taehyung bursts out laughing. “deal."

with a resigned sigh, you head for the stairs.

as you climb up, you prepare yourself.

you prepare yourself for his death glare and the innocent girl in the background. you prepare yourself for his snarky comments and his sweet tone of voice the minute he turns around to talk to her. you prepare yourself to feel sick to your stomach again.

as you stand in front of his bedroom door and raise your fist to knock—you hear it.

rather, you hear them.

the unmistakable sound of his voice, muffled but clear enough that you can make out the low hum of his tone, followed by a girl’s laugh—a breathy, high-pitched laugh that makes your stomach twist.

you freeze, standing in the doorway, caught between disbelief and something you can’t quite name. your heartbeat picks up in your chest, your body tensing as the reality of the situation settles over you.

you’re not sure what exactly it is—maybe it’s the fact that it’s so casual, or maybe it’s the way the sound of it makes you feel like you’re intruding—but you feel a sudden flush creep up your neck and cheeks.

“oh my god, o-oh my g-god! t-that’s it, jungkook! oh god, baby… f-fuck!”

“fuck—you close, baby?”

“so close, baby. so fucking close. g-god, yes, yes, yes! nghh—fuck! so big, jungkook. oh my god, oh my god! fuck me, fuck me… j-just like that, baby. yes, y-yes–o-oh! mhmmmphhh—”

"shit, shit, shit..."

"fuck me harder, jungkook. please! o-oh? oh! oh my god! yes... yes! thank you, baby. thank you, thank you! ahhh... oh my god..."

you swallow, stepping back, retreating to the stairs.

the guilt of overhearing makes your pulse race in an odd way, like you’ve been caught in something you weren’t supposed to see.

at the bottom of the stairs, you pause, your hand on the banister, unsure whether you should stay or go.

you quickly decide.

you’re already feeling the sting of something sharp and unfamiliar in your chest.

“guys,” you say quickly, trying to keep your tone light, but there’s an edge to it you can’t mask. "y-you know what? i think i’ll just head home. i’ve got a ton of work to do.”

they look at you, confused. taehyung blinks a couple of times, jimin frowning.

“but we—"

"y-yeah,” you breathe. “i… i know. i just… it’s all good. you guys can go ahead without me,” you add, forcing a smile.

“slow down, ___. what—”

“i feel sick,” you confess. “okay? i feel sick.”

“okay… can one of us drive you home or something—”

“no. i’m good. thank you, though… i.. i gotta go.”

they all frown, their confusion morphing into concern, but you’ve already grabbed your things and hurried out the door before they can protest.

the cold night air feels like a slap to your face as you walk away, but it doesn’t quite shake the unsettled feeling in your stomach.

you can’t stop thinking about it.

about how you feel.

about what you heard.

about how much you fucking hate jeon jungkook.

it’s almost 10PM by the time you finish showering. your hair is still damp, hanging loosely around your shoulders as you brush it out in front of the mirror. the soft swish of the brush is the only sound in the room, your thoughts still lingering on what happened earlier. the image of Jungkook with that girl, the sound of their voices together, keeps replaying in your mind, and it won’t leave.

you shut your eyes and try to forget.

taking a breath in—your moment is interrupted by a knock on your door.

you frown, glancing at the clock before moving to the door, towel still hanging from your shoulders. it’s late, and you weren’t expecting anyone.

heading towards the door, you wonder who it is.

then, when you open the door, you freeze.

there, standing in the hallway with a takeout bag in hand, is jungkook. his face is unreadable, but his eyes—those eyes—seem to be searching yours for something. you can’t quite figure out what.

you blink, caught off guard by the unexpected visit, and for a moment, neither of you says anything.

“uh…” jungkook clears his throat, breaking the silence, his voice lower than usual. “the guys think i did something to piss you off… so i’m supposed to say sorry for… whatever i did.”

“you didn’t do anything,” you lie. “goodnight.”

just as you’re about to shut the door, he takes a step forward.

“___,” he says, tone flat and annoyed. “don’t be a bitch. just tell me what i did so i can apologize, go home and tell them what i did wrong, and we can act like nothing happened—”

“okay,” you shrug. “you wore an ugly shirt today. there. say sorry.”

jungkook winces at you.

“seriously?”

you shrug again.

“what do you want, jungkook? i have nothing to say to you—”

“i don’t fucking understand where all this attitude is coming from. i didn’t do shit to you today. you know i didn’t… so, can you please use your tiny brain to make something up? something more convincing than hating my fucking shirt.”

you nod, pretending to care. then, just as you reach for the door to shut it again; jungkook swiftly moves past you. he lets himself in.

“they’re worried you didn’t eat,” he states. “did you eat?”

you groan at him. “why the fuck do you care?”

“i don’t.”

but his actions say otherwise.

jungkook then takes off his shoes and heads to your coffee table. he sits himself on the floor and begins to unpack the food. silently, you watch as he does so and can’t help but feel like throwing up.

“eat,” he commands.

you glare at him.

“get out.”

jungkook leans back against your couch. “eat, tell me what i did wrong, then i’ll leave.”

“leave first.”

“eat first.”

“get out.”

“holy shit,” jungkook scoffs. “are you even capable of forming a complex sentence, or is that too much for you? ___, this is called a conversation. you’re supposed to—"

“get out.”

jungkook sighs heavily.

a silence falls upon you two.

jungkook has had difficult days with you before.

this is nothing new… but for some reason, right now feels harder than the other days. partly because most days he knows when he’s being an asshole—but today? he has no clue.

he’s in the dark.

jungkook clears his throat.

“i didn’t yell at you today,” he starts. “i didn’t call you names. you called me a nerd but that was it… your face ruined my day but i guess it made the others pretty happy since they were so pissed at me for being the reason why you left… so, hey… how about this? you tell me what i did wrong for the guys. not for me.”

you raise an eyebrow at him.

his eyes plead.

then, a moment passes.

instead of answering him, you pick up your feet and sit on the floor beside him. you look at the door and take the utensils from the bag. poking at the food, you contemplate on telling him what’s going on in your head.

just as you’re about to eat a spoonful of the food, you suddeny feel jungkook close to you. without saying a word, his fingers brush lightly against your cheek, making you hold your breath. his hand moves to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear, carefully pushing it out of the way so it doesn’t fall into your food.

the gesture is so unexpectedly gentle that it catches you off guard, and for a second, you’re just left there, staring at him.

he looks at you sincerely. in his eyes, you can see his defeat.

you don’t know if it was the gesture or the look in his eyes—but your words slip out of your mouth faster than you can think to stop it.

“she was too loud.”

he tilts his head at you.

“oh,” jungkook connects. his expression stiffens for a split second, then he schools it back into calm. “overheard, did you?” he asks, leaning in slightly, voice a low murmur.

“oh, i definitely heard,” you reply, folding her arms, feigning thoughtfulness. “don’t act so cocky… she sounded like she was faking it.”

he stares, jaw flexing, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something challenging in his eyes.

“that’s cute coming from someone who couldn’t even stay for dinner.”

suddenly that pang of jealousy again hits again.

you know you should just brush it off… keep your cool and act nonchalant about it—but something about jungkook just makes you feel so off balance.

“maybe i had better things to do,” you retort.

“like what?”

you shrug.

“like leave.”

“you should’ve knocked,” jungkook smirks. “i would’ve opened the door. we don’t mind an audience usually.”

there it is again.

the sick, sinking, icky feeling.

“you two fuck often?”

jungkook looks away, taking a moment to think.

“yeah,” he admits. “what? surprised nerds get laid?”

you stay quiet.

“i mean.. it’s not really any of your business…" he mutters, though there’s a tension in his voice that doesn’t match his casual shrug. you can tell he's trying to brush it off, but the way his jaw tightens betrays him.

you feel your stomach tighten, the words you threw out lingering in the air between you, each one heavier than the last. you weren’t expecting him to react like this—maybe a joke or a deflecting comment—but not this…

tension.

"right," you reply, your tone softer than you intended. you glance down at your food, suddenly losing your appetite. the casual air you were hoping for is long gone, replaced by an uncomfortable silence that neither of you seems willing to break.

jungkook shifts uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck before clearing his throat.

"look, it’s not like that," he adds quickly, but the words sound almost too defensive. "she’s just... i don’t know. it’s nothing serious."

you don’t respond immediately, still caught up in the strange mix of feelings his words stir in you. the way he said it—like it was nothing serious—feels too much like an attempt to distance himself from whatever was going on.

you’re not sure what you wanted from this conversation, but now all you feel is a growing knot in your chest.

"yeah," you mutter, trying to sound indifferent, but the weight of his words hangs in the air, making your throat feel tight. "whatever you say—”

“why do you care anyway?” jungkook’s voice is sharp now, a slight edge creeping into his tone as he looks at you, his expression shifting from defensive to something you can’t quite place.

you’re caught off guard by the question.

you weren’t prepared for that, weren’t prepared for the way it makes your chest tighten. why do you care? it’s not like you have any right to, right?

you open your mouth, but the words don’t come out. Instead, you just shrug, trying to play it cool, but you can feel your pulse quicken.

"i don’t. i just—"

"you just what?" he interrupts, his brow furrowing, as though he’s not buying the act. "you’ve never cared before. why start now?"

you clench your fists at your sides, feeling the sting of his words more than you want to admit. There’s a part of you that wants to tell him—tell him how seeing him with her, hearing them laugh together, makes something ugly twist in your stomach.

but you can’t.

"i don’t know," you finally mutter, your voice quieter than before. “it's weird. like, of course i knew you weren't a virgin but... are you actually that good? then again… doesn’t take much to fake sounds like her.”

jungkook’s eyes flicker to yours, something unreadable passing through them before he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. then, he smirks.

it’s more calculated, though… like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

"curious?"

"disgusted, actually."

a beat.

"what, you wanted it to be you?" he asks, his voice smooth, a challenge in his tone.

you almost choke on your breath, but you recover quickly. "me? sleeping with you? please."

he lets out a low laugh, but it’s not playful this time.

it’s more mocking.

“yeah, i mean, i don’t even want you that bad…" he takes a slow look at you, like he's mentally assessing you, deciding if you’re worth his time. "not even close."

the words sting more than they should, but you keep your composure.

you try to look unbothered, but his next words twist the knife a little deeper.

“fuck you.”

"you wish i’d fuck you," he remarks, almost casually, like it's no big deal. "would make things easier, huh?"

your chest tightens, and something about the way he says it makes your blood run cold. It’s not just teasing anymore—it’s a jab.

but you refuse to let him see how much it affects you.

"i’m not interested in you," you shoot back, your voice betraying none of the discomfort you’re feeling.

he leans in a little, eyes never leaving yours.

"really?"

“really.”

his smirk widens, and you can feel the tension crackling in the air.

“guess what? i think you care more than you're letting on. you act like you don’t give a shit, but it’s so obvious you’re just pissed it’s not you in my bed."

you bite your lip, trying to keep your voice steady, but something betrays you in the way your heart races.

"i’m not pissed," you mutter, the words coming out too quickly, like you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him. "why would i be?"

jungkook watches you for a moment, taking in every little reaction.

"i don’t know, ___," he says, his tone low and teasing, like he’s enjoying every second of this. "but it’s cute. you’re all flushed, trying to act like you don’t care, but i can see right through you."

you grit your teeth, wanting to snap back, but instead, you just look away.

"shut up," you mutter, frustrated with yourself more than anything. "you’re such an asshole sometimes, you know?"

he laughs again, but this time there’s something darker in it, almost like he's reveling in your frustration.

“i don’t think you’re as immune to me as you pretend to be," he says. "but hey, don’t stress about it, baby. i’m not that interested either. i mean, what’s the fun in fucking you? it’d be harder getting rid of you than getting in your pants.”

you feel the sting of his words hit harder than they should.

“are you done?” you mutter, forcing a nonchalant tone. "and don't call me baby. you called her baby. i don't want to be associated—"

"you think you'd fold as fast as she did?"

jungkook’s eyes flicker with something that could almost be amusement—or maybe something else. he clears his throat.

“shit, ___. i’m sorry—”

“yeah?”

you don't know why, but something inside you snaps.

you shift your body close to him. so close that you glance at his lips, then back up to his eyes, as if you’re weighing something—daring him to make a move.

jungkook’s body tenses, his breath shallow, like he's ready to close the distance… to make some sort of move. his lips part slightly as if he's about to speak, but before he can, you push him away.

now, he’s tongue tied.

“shit, jungkook... i'm sorry," you mock him. "but you're wrong... this is fun."

#bts fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook f2l #jungkook e2l #jungkook x yn #jungkook x reader #jungkook series

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