keiizzx

[keiizzx]

So cute omg

Hate You Less Every Day | K.Seungmin

Pairing: Seungmin x F.Reader

Word Count: 12,711 words | Reading Time: 45-ish mins

Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers | Angst | Slow Burn | Fluff | College AU

Trope: Grumpy x Grumpy | Forced Proximity | Academic Rivals | Soft for Her Only

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, physical altercation, bruises, strong language, emotional vulnerability, first person pov {I, my, mine, etc}, NO PROOF READING WAS DONE.

Synopsis: You’ve hated each other since first year. He’s cold, sarcastic, and always seems one insult away from combusting. But when a university project forces you together — and fate keeps trapping you in the same orbit — cracks begin to form in the walls around your hearts. Turns out, there’s more to Seungmin than biting words… and more to this "hate" than either of you expected.

Author’s Note: For the girls who fall for the quiet, mean ones that secretly remember your favorite snack. If you’ve ever wanted to punch a man and then kiss him right after — this one’s for you.

-

The syllabus landed on my desk with a final, echoing thud, the sound reverberating through the otherwise quiet lecture hall like a death knell. Its weight, a deceptively thin stack of papers, mirrored the leaden dread that instantly settled in the pit of my stomach. My eyes, usually quick and efficient at skimming academic jargon, now moved with agonizing slowness across the printed words: "Semester's main project: group collaboration." Just three words, innocuous on their own, yet together they possessed the sinister power to unravel my meticulously planned, already stressful academic year. I gripped the edge of the desk, my knuckles white, as I desperately scanned the list of assigned partners. My heart, usually a steady drumbeat, now pounded a frantic, irregular rhythm against my ribs, each beat a desperate plea for a miracle. And then I saw it, the name that made my blood run cold, freezing in my veins: Kim Seungmin.

A strangled gasp escaped me, a mortified little sound instantly regretted as a few curious heads snapped in my direction. This couldn't be happening. Of all the hundreds of students in our vast, anonymous cohort, the universe, in its most twisted, sadistic sense of humor, had conspired to shackle me to him. My mind raced, frantically searching for an escape route, a loophole, anything. I’d honestly rather be hit by a bus – repeatedly, slowly, painfully – than endure a semester tethered to Kim Seungmin.

Our first, and frankly, only, true encounter had solidified our antagonistic dynamic during freshman year, carving an indelible scar into my university experience. It was a miserable, drizzly Tuesday morning, the kind that promised a day as dreary as my mood. I, perpetually clumsy even on the best of days, had been attempting to navigate the crowded hallway, juggling an armful of weighty textbooks and a steaming, scalding coffee from the campus café. Rounding a blind corner in the bustling corridor too quickly, my foot caught on an invisible crack, and I’d lurched forward, colliding with a solid, unyielding force. It was him. Seungmin.

My coffee, a dark, bitter cascade of liquid, exploded upon impact, drenching his pristine, freshly ironed white shirt. The hot liquid seeped instantly into the fabric, blossoming into an ugly brown stain right on his chest. "Oh my god, I am so, so sorry!" I’d stammered, my voice high with panic, my hands fumbling frantically for the few crumpled napkins I always carried. He hadn't uttered a single word. Instead, he’d simply stared at me, his eyes twin pools of glacial ice, promising an eternity of unadulterated damnation. His jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscle twitching just beneath his skin, his perfect eyebrows narrowed into furious, accusatory slits, and the sheer, palpable disdain radiating from him was a physical force, pushing me back. Even after my torrent of profuse apologies, my desperate offers to pay for dry cleaning, to buy him a new shirt, to literally bow at his feet, his expression remained rigidly unchanged. He simply turned on his heel and stalked away without a backward glance, leaving me standing in a rapidly expanding puddle of my own making, utterly, completely mortified, the lingering scent of burnt coffee clinging to the air. That was three years ago, a lifetime ago in university terms, and he had never, not once, let me forget it. Every fleeting, accidental glance across the lecture hall, every unavoidable proximity in the cramped hallways, was met with the same chilling contempt. He’d perfected the art of looking through me as if I were a particularly annoying smudge on the wall, an inconvenience he tolerated only because he had to breathe the same air.

Now, here we were, bound by the cruel, unyielding dictates of academia, forced to become "collaborators." I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to mentally prepare myself for the inevitable onslaught. Our first "collaboration" meeting was set for that afternoon in one of the library’s designated group study areas, a glass-walled box that offered no escape. I arrived a full fifteen minutes early, determined to project an air of professional calm, to be the unequivocally mature one in this impending disaster. I spread out my notebooks, pens, and laptop, trying to look busy, in control. He sauntered in precisely five minutes late, his backpack slung with an almost arrogant carelessness over one shoulder, his expression as unreadable and cold as a blank slate. He didn't acknowledge my presence, didn't make eye contact. He simply pulled out a chair opposite me, the screeching scrape of the legs against the tile floor grating against my already frayed nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. He settled in, crossing his arms, his posture radiating an air of bored indifference that was somehow more irritating than outright hostility.

"So," I began, clearing my throat, the sound ridiculously loud in the quiet study zone. "For the project, I was thinking we could start by brainstorming some ideas for the theoretical framework, and then perhaps divide the research tasks based on our initial findings?" I tried to keep my voice even, professional, my tone a polite invitation for cooperation.

He didn't even let me finish. His eyes, though not directly on mine, were sharp and dismissive. "Let’s just get this over with," he cut in, his voice flat, devoid of any warmth, resonating with a familiar, barely concealed disgust. "The sooner we finish this, the sooner I don't have to look at you. Or hear you. Or, god forbid, smell your cheap coffee again. Is that even what it was? Smelled more like regret."

My jaw tightened, a muscle throbbing with instant irritation. I could feel a flush creeping up my neck. I took another deep, fortifying breath, counting slowly to three in my head, reminding myself of the scholarship, of my future. "Look, Seungmin," I forced a strained smile, trying to inject some semblance of humor into the abysmal situation, "I know we're not exactly going to be braiding each other's hair or exchanging friendship bracelets, but we have to work together. For the sake of our grades, can we at least try to be civil? Just for the next few months?"

A humorless smirk, sharp and cutting like broken glass, played on his perfect lips. "Civil? What's the point? It won't change the fact that you’re probably going to be a dead weight, clinging to my academic success like a barnacle to a ship. Knowing your track record for… 'accidents'." His gaze flickered meaningfully to my hands, then to the clean, empty table between us, a clear, unwelcome reminder of the coffee incident. The implication was that I was inherently clumsy, unreliable, and bound to mess up.

A sharp, furious retort sprang to my tongue – something about his own questionable social skills, his perpetually sour expression, his inability to interact with another human being without radiating hostility – but I bit it back, hard, my teeth digging into the inside of my cheek. "My GPA is just as high as yours, Seungmin, if not higher, actually," I stated, my voice losing its cooperative edge, becoming colder, more defensive. "I assure you, I'm perfectly capable of doing my share, and I won't 'drag your grade down'."

He leaned back further in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture radiating an air of superior disdain. His gaze swept over me with an almost clinical detachment, as if evaluating a specimen under a microscope, or perhaps a particularly persistent pest. "Right. Just try not to trip over your own feet this time, or spill anything important. Or accidentally set the library on fire with your sheer lack of grace. My patience is already thinner than a single strand of hair, and frankly, I don't have enough spare brain cells to deal with your particular brand of… enthusiasm for misfortune."

My hands clenched into tight fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms, the physical pain a dull anchor against the sharp sting of his words. This was going to be an impossibly long, agonizing semester. We forced ourselves through the initial brainstorming session, the entire process punctuated by his relentless passive-aggressive comments and my increasingly strained, brittle politeness. Every single suggestion I made was met with a skeptical hum, a dismissive wave of his hand, or a thinly veiled criticism disguised as constructive feedback. "That's… an idea," he'd say, his tone suggesting it was the worst idea he'd ever heard. Or, "Are you sure you understand the parameters? Because that sounds wildly off-topic." Every time he spoke, it felt less like a productive conversation and more like a tiny, precise cut, each one a fresh wound.

As the meeting finally, mercifully, drew to a close, I began packing my things with an almost frantic speed, relief flooding through me like a cool, cleansing wave. "Okay, so I'll work on researching the historical context of the topic for the first section, and maybe you can look into the contemporary case studies for the second part of the draft?" I suggested, trying desperately to end on a cooperative, forward-looking note, a futile attempt to salvage some semblance of normalcy, to make it seem like we were two rational human beings capable of collaboration.

He merely grunted, already halfway out of his chair, seemingly desperate to escape the vicinity of my very existence. He paused beside the table, his shoulders squared, his eyes, dark and piercing, finally locking onto mine with an intensity that made me instinctively flinch, a sudden predatory gleam in their depths. His voice dropped, losing its usual mocking, sarcastic edge, becoming a low, chilling whisper that was somehow infinitely worse than any shouted insult, cutting deep into the thin veneer of my composure. "If I never see you again," he articulated each word slowly, deliberately, his gaze unwavering, "it still won’t be long enough."

He said it with such absolute conviction, such raw, unadulterated animosity, that it momentarily stunned me into silence. For once, my mind went blank, devoid of any snappy comeback, any witty retort to deflect the blow. My shoulders slumped, the last vestiges of my manufactured composure crumbling, leaving me feeling exposed and raw. All I could manage was a weary sigh, a heavy exhalation of defeat, and a slow, deliberate roll of my eyes, a silent admission that he had, for once, truly disarmed me. He watched my reaction for a second longer, a flicker of something unreadable – was it satisfaction? A cold triumph? – in his dark gaze, before turning sharply and walking away without another word. He disappeared around the corner, his retreating figure seeming to dissolve into the bustling library, leaving me utterly alone in the vast, echoing silence of the study area, the bitter, undeniable truth of his hatred hanging heavy in the air, a suffocating shroud. This project wasn't just going to be difficult; it was going to be pure, unadulterated torture. And somehow, I knew it had only just begun.

-

The initial dread of working with Seungmin had, against all odds, morphed into a fragile, strained routine. Weeks blurred into a grueling cycle of forced proximity and thinly veiled animosity. Our project, a complex analysis of ancient civilizations, was slowly, agonizingly, progressing. Every collaborative session felt less like an academic meeting and more like a minor diplomatic battle. Seungmin remained consistently cold, his every utterance a barbed wire fence between us, his expressions a constant, unyielding mask of disdain. I’d perfected the art of the subtle eye-roll and the tight-lipped nod, a silent, mutual agreement to endure for the sake of our grades, our coveted GPAs looming large as the ultimate prize. It was a miserable truce, a slow poison, but a truce nonetheless.

Then came the announcement that sent a fresh wave of ice-cold dread through me: the university's annual geology excursion. A mandatory, week-long camping trip to study rock formations and ecosystems, miles from campus, very useless yet helped in the grades. The moment the detailed itinerary landed in my inbox, my heart sank lower than a geologist's pickaxe hitting bedrock. Group assignments for tents. I scrolled down the PDF, my eyes scanning the list of pairings, my heart a leaden weight in my chest with each name I passed. And then I saw it, stark and undeniable, right below mine: Kim Seungmin. Of course. Just my luck. The universe truly did possess a cruel, sadistic sense of humor, determined to see just how much misery it could inflict upon my existence.

The bus ride to the remote campsite was a torturous blur. Jammed shoulder-to-shoulder with excited, chattering students, I mostly tuned out the cacophony, opting for oversized headphones and a grim, determined silence. Each bump in the road felt like a premonition of the discomfort to come. Upon arrival, the campsite was pure, unadulterated chaos – a sprawling expanse of muddy ground where tents were being erected like mushrooms after rain, equipment unloaded haphazardly, and hundreds of students milled about, their youthful energy a sharp contrast to my internal gloom. I located our designated plot, a patch of slightly less muddy earth where two flimsy pieces of canvas lay discarded, somehow constituting a shelter. Seungmin was already there, his movements precise and efficient, meticulously unrolling his sleeping bag inside what would soon be our shared enclosure. His back was to me, his broad shoulders squared, already staking his claim. He hadn't even waited.

"Great," I muttered under my breath, loud enough for him to undoubtedly catch the biting sarcasm. "Just fantastic."

He turned slowly, a dark eyebrow raised in that characteristic, disdainful arch. "What's 'fantastic'? The thrilling opportunity to spend a week in the unforgiving wilderness with someone whose primary skill seems to be being a persistent, irritating nuisance?" His voice was low, laced with his usual biting sarcasm, each word a perfectly aimed dart. He didn't even bother to look me in the eye.

"No, what's 'fantastic' is being trapped in a glorified cloth sack, barely big enough for one person, let alone two, with someone who treats me like I’m a particularly unpleasant germ," I retorted, dropping my heavy backpack with a thud that kicked up a puff of dry dust, a small act of defiance. "Did you even consider trying to get the tent assignment changed, Seungmin? Or are you just reveling in this, enjoying torturing me slowly, inch by agonizing inch?"

He let out a short, scoffing laugh, devoid of any genuine amusement. "Why would I? This is just part of the grand tapestry of my life, I suppose. Enduring minor annoyances for the greater good. Like passing this class with a decent grade, despite the handicaps I'm clearly being assigned." He unzipped his backpack, pulling out a thick geology textbook and a pen, as if he were about to start studying right there, mocking my frustration with his sheer indifference.

"You really are unbelievable," I spat, yanking my own sleeping bag out of its compression sack with unnecessary force, almost tearing the fabric. The tent, once just a visual, now felt impossibly small, a claustrophobic box that was already stealing my breath. Just the thought of breathing the same stale air as him, night after night, for five consecutive nights, sent a shiver of genuine dread down my spine. This wasn't just a project anymore; it was psychological warfare.

The first two days of the trip were a precarious, exhausting dance of avoidance. We hiked in separate groups whenever humanly possible, ate at opposite ends of the muddy picnic tables, and spoke only when absolutely, unequivocally necessary for the project tasks – identifying rock types, mapping geological features. But the evenings, oh, the evenings. Trapped in the shared tent, the air crackled with a suffocating silence, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of his sleeping bag, his deep, exasperated sighs, and my own jaw clenching so tight it ached. The unspoken tension was a live wire stretched taut between us, waiting for the smallest spark.

It finally snapped on the third night. A vicious, unseasonal storm had rolled in, turning the entire campsite into a muddy, miserable quagmire. Rain lashed against the thin tent fabric like thrown gravel, and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, shaking the very ground beneath us. We'd been huddled inside, trying to go over some field notes by the weak, flickering glow of a single, battery-operated lantern. The damp cold had seeped into my bones, making my temper dangerously short.

"This data collection is sloppy," Seungmin stated, his voice cutting through the incessant drumming of the rain, sharp and dismissive as he jabbed a finger at my notebook. His tone was always one of cold authority, never of genuine help. "Did you even pay attention during the rock identification lecture? This is completely wrong. Look at these sketches. Are you drawing a cloud or a mineral sample?"

My patience, already worn thinner than old paper by the damp cold, the cramped space, and his constant, relentless criticisms, evaporated instantly. "It's not 'sloppy'!" I snapped, my voice rising, fueled by raw frustration. "It's a first pass, Seungmin, and the light out there was terrible! And honestly, your handwriting isn't exactly calligraphy either, Mr. Perfect! At least mine's legible even if my sketches aren't up to your impossible standards!"

"My handwriting doesn't affect the accuracy of the observation, unlike your apparent inability to distinguish between granite and quartzite," he shot back, his voice rising, a cold, controlled anger seeping into each syllable. His eyes, usually so impassive, now held a dangerous glint. "You know, for someone who claims to have such a high GPA, you really do struggle with basic concepts. Or perhaps you just trip your way into good grades like you tripped into me that day?"

The jab was unexpected, raw, and it hit a nerve that had been festering for three years, a deep-seated wound of humiliation and injustice. My vision narrowed, the weak lantern light suddenly blurring. The rain outside seemed to amplify the sudden, ringing silence in the tent as I took a ragged, trembling breath. This was it. I was done.

"Oh, so we're going there, are we?" My voice was low, dangerous, a low growl of pure, unadulterated fury. "Still hung up on a coffee stain from three years ago? Get over yourself, Seungmin! It was an accident! I apologized a hundred times! What is your actual problem? Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to deserve this constant, bitter, nasty attitude from you, huh? Was it just a bad hair day that morning, or are you just fundamentally incapable of being a decent human being?"

His eyes, usually so impassive, now flared with something akin to genuine rage. His face was pale in the flickering light. "My problem? My problem is having to tolerate your existence! You're clumsy, you're annoying, you're always trying to play the victim! You're like a loud, persistent buzzing in my ear that I can't swat away! Do you know how many times I've tried to avoid you? You're like a bad rash that keeps reappearing no matter what I do!"

"A bad rash?" My voice cracked with a mixture of disbelief, humiliation, and a surprising, deep well of hurt. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them back fiercely. I would not cry in front of him. "You think I enjoy this? You think I enjoy being around someone who looks at me like I'm dirt under his shoe? I've tried to be civil! I've tried to be professional! I've tried to ignore your petty insults! But all you ever do is tear me down! What, is it that hard for you to see someone else succeed? Is it that hard for you to just be a decent human being for five minutes without making someone else feel small and insignificant?" My voice was rising, trembling with suppressed rage and a surprising amount of genuine pain. "You are cold, Seungmin. You are just utterly, completely cold. You're a walking, talking glacier! And frankly, I'm sick of it! I am sick of you and your self-important, hateful attitude!"

The last words hung in the air, echoing in the claustrophobic space, punctuated by a particularly loud clap of thunder that rattled the tent. We stood there, glaring at each other across the tiny expanse of the tent floor, our chests heaving, the air thick and crackling with the intensity of our raw, exposed resentment. His perfect composure was finally, irrevocably shattered. For a long, drawn-out moment, his eyes, usually so hard and unyielding, softened, just a fraction. A flicker of something crossed his face – was it surprise? Vulnerability? A hint of hurt beneath the anger? – a fleeting, almost imperceptible emotion that was so unlike him, so utterly human, that it caught me off guard. It was the first crack in his meticulously constructed wall, a tiny, almost imperceptible fissure, but it was unmistakably there. And for the first time, in the midst of all the anger and hatred, I felt a strange sense of something beyond pure fury. A tiny, almost unnoticeable shift.

The raw, echoing silence that followed our explosion in the tent on that stormy night was almost more deafening than the relentless drumming of rain outside. The air still vibrated with the violent echoes of shouted words, of exposed nerves and bruised pride. Seungmin had simply stared at me for another long, unblinking moment, that fleeting, unreadable flicker in his eyes, before turning abruptly to face the tent wall, effectively ending the confrontation. There was no apology, no acknowledgment of the raw emotions that had just flared. He just… shut down. I lay rigidly in my sleeping bag, back to him, listening to the persistent drumming rain and the frantic, chaotic beating of my own heart, a drumroll of lingering anger and a strange, unsettling vulnerability. Sleep didn't come easily that night, disturbed by the ghost of his unspoken emotions and the replay of my own desperate accusations. The next morning, a fragile, unspoken truce had settled between us, heavy and awkward, a layer of thick, uncomfortable frost.

The remaining days of the camping trip were a masterclass in uncomfortable coexistence. We moved through the schedule like two separate, carefully orbiting planets, never quite colliding, never quite separating. Our interactions were clipped, functional, and strictly academic. "Pass the map," he’d utter, his voice flat. "Did you record the pH levels for this soil sample?" I'd respond, my tone equally devoid of emotion. "The coordinates are slightly off here," I might point out, and he’d merely hum in acknowledgment. There were no more direct insults, no more snide remarks. But there was also no warmth, no easing of the tension that still hummed like a live wire beneath the surface. Each hour was a slow, agonizing countdown until we could return to campus, to the blessed anonymity of our separate lives, where the only shared space was a large lecture hall.

Yet, even in this strained quiet, amidst the mud and the mandated group activities, I started to notice things. Small, almost imperceptible moments that chipped away at the monolithic image I had built of him – the "walking glacier," the "cold, hateful Seungmin."

One afternoon, while hiking along a particularly steep, rocky trail, the air thick with damp earth and the scent of pine, a younger student in our group, clearly struggling with a heavy backpack and an armful of rock samples, slipped on a loose patch of shale. Their bulky sample bag tumbled down the incline, scattering carefully collected specimens everywhere. Before anyone else could react, before even the professor could shout a warning, Seungmin, who had been several paces ahead, his eyes usually fixed on the path, paused. He looked around quickly, a swift, almost furtive glance, as if checking if anyone was watching. Then, without a word, he silently walked back down the treacherous slope. He knelt down, his expensive trekking pants getting covered in mud, and began to help the flustered, embarrassed student gather their samples, even reaching into difficult crevices to retrieve a few that had rolled far. His expression remained neutral, unreadable, giving nothing away, but the act itself was undeniably, undeniably kind. He then offered a steady hand to help the student back up the slippery incline, a silent, supporting anchor. He hadn't said a word, just did it, then strode off quickly, resuming his place at the head of the line, leaving the student stammering their thanks to his retreating back. I watched the entire exchange, half-hidden by a cluster of thick, damp trees, a surprising, almost unsettling warmth spreading through my chest. The "walking glacier" had a hidden current, after all. A quiet, unexpected decency.

Another evening, back at the campsite, the air chilled and damp, we were trying to go over the day’s complicated data. The battery in our shared lantern flickered ominously, threatening to die, plunging us into darkness. I muttered, annoyed, about how impractical and inefficient it was. Without looking up from his notes, or even pausing his rapid scribbling, Seungmin reached into his own meticulously organized bag and pulled out a fresh set of batteries. He tossed them onto my lap with a soft thud. "You need these," he said, his voice flat, but without a hint of his usual derision. "It's inefficient to work in the dark. Your notes are illegible enough as it is, no need to worsen them by adding shadows." It was still a jab, a reference to my supposed clumsiness and incompetence, but the gesture itself was… helpful. Practical. And for the first time, it didn't feel entirely malicious. It felt less like an insult and more like a statement of fact, coupled with a solution.

"Thanks," I said, genuinely surprised, picking up the batteries. I waited, bracing myself, expecting a sarcastic retort, a follow-up barb. But he just grunted, a noncommittal sound, continuing to scribble furiously in his own notebook. The silence that followed wasn't entirely hostile. It was just… silence. A comfortable, almost companionable silence, broken only by the distant sounds of the camp and the scratch of our pens.

On the final morning, as we packed up our muddy gear to leave, a palpable sense of relief permeated the air. As I struggled with a particularly stubborn tent pole, Seungmin, already finished with his own packing, unexpectedly reached over and expertly untangled it with a single, swift movement. "You're doing it wrong," he stated, but this time, there was no contempt in his voice, just a simple observation. It was infuriatingly helpful.

Then, as we waited for the bus, he actually initiated a conversation that wasn't solely driven by immediate necessity. It was about our project, of course, the ever-present anchor of our interaction, but it was the first time we’d spoken without the air crackling with resentment, without the invisible barrier of animosity.

"We need to finalize the structural analysis section as soon as we get back to campus," he stated, his voice a low, even tone, completely devoid of its usual sharp edges. He glanced at his own notes, then back at me. "I've started drafting some of the geological arguments, integrating the new field data. And, I have to admit…" He paused, as if the words were physically painful to utter. "I think you've actually got a decent grasp on the historical context, surprisingly. Your research on the ancient trade routes was quite thorough."

I paused, midway through zipping my overstuffed backpack. My eyebrows raised in genuine amusement, a small, involuntary smile playing on my lips. "Surprisingly?" I echoed, a hint of playful sarcasm in my voice. "I thought you were utterly convinced I was going to drag your precious GPA down to the academic abyss, Mr. 'Clumsy-and-Annoying'."

He straightened up then, turning to face me fully, meeting my gaze directly. His lips twitched, almost imperceptibly, in what might have been the fleeting shadow of a smirk. It was so subtle, I almost missed it. "Well," he began, his voice a low drawl, "let's just say you're not entirely useless. Your research skills aren't as catastrophically bad as your spatial awareness, or your ability to handle a simple cup of coffee." The insult was still there, woven into the fabric of the reluctant compliment, yes, but it was delivered with a different cadence, a lighter touch. It felt less like a genuine attack and more like… banter. And instead of feeling hurt, instead of feeling the familiar sting of his contempt, I felt a strange, bubbling urge to laugh. I managed a scoff instead, shaking my head. "Coming from Mr. Perfect, the human embodiment of flawless execution, I'll take that as a glowing commendation."

He let out a soft sound then, a quiet huff that was almost, almost a genuine chuckle. The sound was so unexpected, so entirely out of character, that for a split second, I froze. He caught himself quickly, though, his face settling back into its usual carefully constructed stoic expression, his shoulders straightening. "Don't get used to this," he muttered, his voice regaining a hint of its usual dryness as he hoisted his heavy backpack onto his shoulders. He didn't look at me as he started to walk towards the idling university bus. "Our GPA depends on it, nothing more. A means to an end." And with that, he was gone, blending into the stream of students, leaving me standing there, a small, unexpected smile still touching my lips. The truce was still fragile, built on the shifting sands of academic necessity, but maybe, just maybe, it wasn't quite so miserable anymore. Marks mattered, after all, and for the first time, I felt like we might actually achieve them without either of us ending up in the infirmary. Or jail.

-

The subtle shift that had begun in the muddy, cramped confines of the campsite continued to unfurl, slowly but surely, back on the sprawling, familiar grounds of campus. The bitter, acidic edge that had defined our every interaction for so long began to soften, imperceptibly at first, then with a gradual, almost shy consistency. It wasn't a sudden transformation, but a nuanced evolution, like ice melting into a slow trickle. The "truce" we'd forged for the sake of our precarious GPAs started to expand beyond just academic necessity. Our weekly project meetings, once dreaded endurance tests I approached with a pit in my stomach, now held a strange, almost enjoyable rhythm. The insults were still very much present, Seungmin wouldn't be Seungmin without them, but they were lighter, less aimed to wound and more to playfully prod, to challenge. It was a new kind of verbal fencing, where the foils were blunted.

"Are you absolutely certain you formatted that bibliography correctly?" Seungmin would ask, leaning over my shoulder, his voice a low, dry murmur that no longer sent shivers of annoyance down my spine. "I wouldn't want your general clumsiness to extend to proper citation; that would be a catastrophic academic event."

"And I wouldn't want your overly critical eye to miss the actual, groundbreaking point of the research, Mr. Perfect," I'd shoot back, a small smirk playing on my lips. "There's more to a thesis than just impeccable formatting, you know." The old sting was gone from his words, replaced by a subtle challenge that I found myself, to my surprise, genuinely enjoying. The air between us, once thick with unspoken animosity and unspoken threats, now carried a faint, almost playful current, like static electricity before a summer storm. We’d even started to fall into step with each other sometimes, walking in the same direction after class, a comfortable silence settling between us that hadn’t existed before.

One particularly grueling afternoon, buried under a literal mountain of research papers in a secluded corner of the library, we were locked in a heated, albeit now less hostile, debate about the merits of a particularly obscure historical theory. My brain felt like it was melting from lack of sleep and too much caffeine. As I, perhaps overly dramatically, tried to explain a convoluted point, I made a rather wild, exaggerated gesture with my hands, accidentally knocking my pen off the table. My reflexes, surprisingly quick for my current state of exhaustion, allowed me to catch it mid-air with a dramatic, somewhat theatrical flourish.

"See?" I exclaimed, trying to look nonchalant, as if I did that all the time. "Not so clumsy after all, am I? Perhaps I'm evolving."

Seungmin, who had been watching me with his usual critical, assessing gaze, a faint frown line between his brows, suddenly let out a sound. It wasn't a scoff, or a grunt, or a sarcastic remark. It was a genuine, startled burst of laughter. A short, sharp sound that quickly died, quickly muffled, but undeniably, unequivocally a laugh. It came out of him so unexpectedly, so out of character, that both of us froze. His eyes widened slightly, the barest hint of a surprised flush creeping up his pale neck. My own eyes went wide in response, my breath hitched. We stared at each other for a beat, two beats, an eternity, the faint echo of his laughter still hanging in the quiet library air like a phantom. It was the first time I had ever made him laugh. The first time I'd even heard him laugh, period. The moment stretched, awkward and profound, before he quickly averted his gaze, clearing his throat loudly, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," he muttered, his voice a little gruff, a little rougher than usual, as he immediately picked up his pen and pretended to be deeply, urgently engrossed in his complex notes. "Beginner's luck. A fluke. Don't expect a repeat performance."

I didn't press it, didn't dare to. But a warmth spread through me, something more potent and comforting than the library's stuffy heating. The tension that had snapped between us was no longer the familiar, searing anger, but a new, exhilarating kind of awkwardness, a feeling of having stumbled upon something fragile and unexpected.

Our project work often ran late, pushing us into the quiet hours of the campus, long after most students had retreated to their dorms. One evening, after a particularly intense, four-hour study session that had left my brain feeling like scrambled eggs, we emerged from the almost-empty library. The campus lights cast long, stark shadows across the deserted pathways, and the usual daytime bustle had died down to a hushed murmur of rustling leaves and distant traffic. It was a crisp, cool night, the air carrying the subtle scent of damp earth. We started walking, quite naturally, in the same direction, towards the main gate.

"Which way are you headed?" he asked, his voice low, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between us. It wasn't a question delivered with forced politeness, but with a natural curiosity, a casualness that surprised me.

"My apartment is just a few blocks past the main gate, near the old bookstore," I replied, gesturing vaguely into the darkness.

"I'll walk with you," he said simply, not as a question asking for permission, but as a statement of fact, a decision already made. And he did. We walked in comfortable silence, the kind that didn't need to be filled with forced conversation or the tense expectation of a verbal attack. There was no longer the oppressive weight of his animosity, no need to brace myself for a cutting remark. It just… was. The silence felt okay. More than okay, it felt surprisingly pleasant, even companionable. I found myself stealing quiet glances at his profile, illuminated intermittently by the yellow glow of the streetlights, feeling a strange, unexpected sense of peace settle over me. It felt less lonely than walking home by myself.

These small shifts weren't just in our shared, silent walks. They began to appear in smaller, more meaningful gestures, quiet acts of thoughtfulness that built up like tiny, invisible bricks. I remembered one afternoon when I was struggling with a particularly complex statistical problem for another class, completely unrelated to our project. I had mumbled my frustration aloud during a brief coffee break, half to myself, half just releasing steam. Seungmin, who had been engrossed in his own notes, seemingly oblivious, had, without a word, taken my textbook, scanned the problem, and then, with frustrating ease, explained the solution in a few concise sentences, patiently, clearly. He didn't mock me for not understanding it, didn't make me feel stupid for needing help. He just… helped. Simply. Efficiently.

Another time, I’d been working late in the campus study lounge, feeling a familiar, insistent grumble in my stomach. I'd mentioned offhand to no one in particular that I was starving, wishing I had my favorite brand of spicy snack crackers, the ones they only sold at the small convenience store off-campus. The very next day, after our project meeting, as I was packing up my bag, I noticed a small, crinkly bag tucked almost hidden under my notebook. It was my favorite snack, the exact brand, still perfectly sealed. I looked up, my eyebrows raised in surprise, to catch him already walking away, his back to me as he pushed open the heavy library door. But just before he disappeared, I caught the barest hint of a smirk, a flicker of something almost smug, on his face. He knew I’d seen it.

Banter had replaced bitterness, and small, unexpected acts of thoughtfulness were slowly, painstakingly chipping away at the seemingly impenetrable walls he'd built around himself, revealing quiet, fleeting glimpses of the person beneath the cold, sharp exterior. We weren't friends yet, not by a long shot. The word felt too big, too fragile for the tentative connection forming between us. But the vast, seemingly impassable chasm that had once separated us was slowly, tentatively, beginning to bridge, one quiet moment, one shared laugh, one thoughtful gesture at a time. I found myself wondering, more than once, what else lay beneath Seungmin's carefully constructed facade.

The subtle shift in our dynamic continued, growing more pronounced with each passing week. The library, once a battleground, had become a quiet, almost comfortable space for us. Our project was nearing completion, its impending success a testament to our strange, evolving partnership. The teasing from Seungmin still came, sharp and witty, but now it felt less like a threat and more like a secret language, a peculiar form of affection only we understood. He’d ruffle my hair sometimes, a quick, almost imperceptible gesture, and once, during a particularly stressful moment with a malfunctioning printer, he even offered a brief, solid hug when I finally got it to work, then immediately pulled back as if burned.

It was during one of our late-night study sessions that I overheard fragments of his past. I was grabbing water from the cooler when a few students, huddled in a hushed conversation near the entrance, mentioned his name. My ears perked up, against my better judgment. They spoke of his family, hushed whispers of abuse and a tortured upbringing, how he had moved out at a young age, essentially cutting ties, building walls around himself to survive. They were saying things like:

"Did you hear about his parents? Apparently, they were completely awful. Like, physically and emotionally." "Yeah, someone said his dad was violent. And his mom just… let it happen." "No wonder he's so cold. He probably never learned how to have normal relationships." "He moved out at 16, right? I heard he was basically homeless for a while…..dunno how he still affords such expensive clothes though" "must be his cousin's lending him money, they say he was close to his cousin brother" "he betrayed him too, he was the one who abused him as well, no?"

It painted a picture so stark, so devastatingly different from the stoic, arrogant Seungmin I knew. He hadn’t just been born cold; he had been made cold, forging his defenses in a crucible of pain. A wave of unexpected sympathy washed over me, a profound understanding for the seemingly impenetrable fortress he had built around his heart. The arrogance wasn’t arrogance at all, I realized; it was a shield.

A few days later, the tables turned. A group of self-important jerks from the history department, known for their obnoxious gossip and condescending attitudes, started loudly speculating about Seungmin's reserved nature and his family background right in the common room. They snickered, making crude jokes about him always being alone, about how he must have 'issues' because he never seemed to interact with anyone outside of academic necessities.

They were saying things like:

"Seriously, what's his deal? Is he, like, incapable of human emotion?" "Probably has some deep-seated trauma. Daddy issues, maybe?" "I heard his parents were monsters, honestly his whole family. Explains a lot, actually." "He probably ran away because he couldn't handle it. What a drama queen." Fury, sharp and instant, coursed through me. I didn't think, I just reacted.

"You know," I interrupted, my voice cutting through their obnoxious chatter, "it's pathetic how you manage to sound so utterly clueless while having such loud mouths. Worry about your own sorry excuses for lives, instead of dissecting someone else's. Some people actually have real problems, unlike your biggest concern, which seems to be how many brain cells you can collectively lose in a day."

One of them, a bulky guy with a smug grin, sneered at me. "Oh, look who it is. His little protector. What, did he finally deign to speak to you?"

"He doesn't need a protector," I retorted, stepping closer, my voice low and dangerous. "But he does need a break from pathetic losers like you who get their kicks from tearing down people they don't even know. You want to talk about issues? You're the ones with issues if this is how you feel good about yourselves."

The smug grin vanished, replaced by a sneer. "Watch your mouth, girl. You don't know who you're talking to."

"Oh, I know exactly who I'm talking to," I shot back, my patience evaporated. "A bunch of overgrown 'toddlers' who probably think their farts smell like roses. Get a life, or better yet, get a clue." The next few minutes were a blur. Words escalated, shoves turned into pushes, and suddenly, I was in the middle of a full-blown brawl. I knew how to handle myself; my older sister had taught me a few things growing up. I landed a solid hit on one guy's jaw, ducked under another's wild swing, but their numbers were overwhelming. I felt a sharp pain in my neck as someone tried to suffocate me, then a blow to my cheek and lip. I fought back, kicking and punching, until a few other students intervened and broke it up, leaving me with throbbing knuckles, a sore neck, and a busted lip.

Later, sitting in a quiet corner of the library, I cleaned up my bruised knuckles and dabbed ointment on my split lip. The fight had been stupid, reckless even, but I didn't regret it. Not for a second.

Meanwhile, Seungmin, having heard garbled rumors about a fight involving me and some jerks from the history department, felt a cold knot of dread form in his stomach. He didn’t know why, but the idea of me being hurt made his chest tighten. He ran to the nurses’ office, his usual calm replaced by a frantic urgency he rarely felt. He searched the empty room, calling my name, his heart pounding. Panic flared when he didn't find me there. He searched the common rooms, the lecture halls, his internal alarm growing louder.

Finally, at the far end of the university grounds, near the main gate, he saw me. I was walking home, slowly, my head down, my backpack slung low. He ran, closing the distance quickly, his breath catching in his throat when he finally reached me. He grabbed my arm, gently, his fingers surprisingly hesitant.

"Y/N!" His voice was rough, laced with a fear I'd never heard from him. "Why? What happened? Are you okay?" He pulled my hand to inspect my knuckles, then gently tilted my chin to look at my neck and face. His eyes widened further at the sight of my busted knuckles, the faint red marks and developing bruises on my neck where they'd tried to suffocate me, the swelling on my cheek, and the ointment over my busted lip. His composure utterly crumbled. "Why would you do that? You look like you got run over by a truck!"

I just nodded, a small, tired smile on my injured lip. "I'm okay, Seungmin. Just a little bruised."

He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. "But… why? Who were those guys? Why did you get into a fight?" His voice was softer now, full of a vulnerability that struck me more than any of his earlier anger ever had.

I hesitated, then decided to be honest. "They were talking about you," I admitted quietly, looking away. "Saying stupid, cruel things about your family, about you. I just… I couldn't stand it."

He froze, his grip on my arm tightening almost imperceptibly. His eyes searched mine, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within their depths – surprise, shock, a hint of something fragile, something like gratitude. He didn't say anything for a long moment. Then, he let out a slow, deliberate breath, and started walking beside me, towards my apartment building, the familiar path now feeling profoundly different.

"You really… you stood up for me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, almost disbelieving.

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Someone had to. They were being complete jerks."

He walked in silence for a few more minutes, the soft glow of the streetlights painting long shadows ahead of us. Then, he spoke again, his voice even softer, laced with a raw vulnerability I’d never imagined I would hear from him. He began to talk, not about the fight, but about his past, about the loneliness, the walls he built, the constant vigilance. He didn't offer a dramatic confession, but a quiet, almost reluctant sharing of the burdens he carried. It wasn’t a torrent of emotion, but a steady, painful drip of truths that explained everything. He spoke about how he didn't trust easily, how he always expected people to eventually let him down, or worse, to use his vulnerabilities against him. That’s why he pushed people away. That’s why he had pushed me away. My heart ached for the younger Seungmin who had endured such pain….. the abuse, the mental scar left on him….and the physical scars his father had left with his beloved belt on his back. And worst? His mother the one who brought him to the world had been far worse, she didn't hit him, no. Her words were worse than being stabbed all over continuously until there was no more blood left inside him. 'I wish you died in my womb itself, useless disgrace' he had mumbled what his mom had said ragefully when he was eight, returned from school with a 'B' grade. He explained how he came from a family of scholars and multi-talented people….he was just good at academics, music at times he liked it, but 'pop' which his family never approved. And how he had ran away at 16.

We reached my apartment building, the familiar brick facade a welcome sight. I turned to face him, my lip throbbing slightly. He looked down at my face, a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head.

"You're not as annoying as I thought," he said quietly, a faint, almost shy smirk touching his lips. Then, his eyes met mine, a flicker of genuine concern replacing the usual sarcasm. "And hey… don't jump into dog fights 'cause people say something about someone."

I couldn't help but smile, a genuine, if slightly lopsided, grin. "That someone is you, idiot." I chuckled softly, despite the pain. "We're friends, right? Of course, I would beat up someone for you. You do the same for me someday, okay?"

He didn't reply, just stood there, watching me. I waved goodbye, the small bag of snacks still tucked into my backpack, my knuckles aching, but a strange warmth spreading through me. I walked inside my apartment building, leaving him on the pavement, a quiet understanding finally settled between us. The walls hadn't just cracked; a section of them had crumbled completely.

-

The fight, my busted lip, and Seungmin’s raw, unexpected honesty had undeniably cracked something fundamental between us. The lingering tension wasn’t gone, but it had morphed into something entirely different—a charged awareness, a silent understanding that hummed beneath the surface. The careful, almost fragile friendship that had begun to blossom now deepened rapidly, like a plant suddenly given ample sunlight. He joked more often, his dry wit a surprising, almost addictive source of amusement that often caught me off guard, making me laugh despite myself. His teasing, once a weapon, was now a familiar banter, a peculiar form of affection only we seemed to understand. He’d ruffle my hair so frequently it became a comforting, almost instinctive gesture, a brief brush of his fingers that sent a curious warmth through me. And once, during a particularly stressful moment with a malfunctioning library printer, when I finally coerced the ancient machine into spitting out our perfectly formatted document, he even offered a brief, solid hug – a fleeting, tender weight against my shoulder – before immediately pulling back, as if burned by the contact. The touches were small, almost imperceptible, non-committal, yet each one sent a ripple through me, a quiet acknowledgment of the shifting, undefinable landscape of our relationship.

A few weeks later, with our major project nearing its final submission, I was buried deep in a new set of notes in the sprawling, echoing library, trying to make sense of a particularly convoluted philosophy reading. The familiar scent of old books, dust, and quiet ambition filled the air, a comforting constant in my often-chaotic academic life. I was so engrossed, I didn't immediately notice him. But then, a subtle shift in the energy of the room, a prickle of awareness at the back of my neck, told me he was there. Seungmin walked in, his presence immediately noticeable even amidst the rows of diligently working students. He scanned the room with a quick, decisive sweep, his eyes landing on me. It was becoming undeniably clear that our project meetings were no longer the sole reason for our shared time. We just… wanted to spend time together, whether it was to work, or just to exist in the same space.

He started walking towards my table, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips, a rare, relaxed curve. But then, just as he was about to reach me, a figure detached itself from a nearby study group. It was Mark from my statistics class, a guy who had always been a little too friendly, a little too persistent for my liking. Mark stopped by my table, leaning in, his voice a little too loud, a little too familiar, jarring the quiet academic atmosphere. "Hey Y/N! Still struggling with those regression analyses? I saw you looking stressed in lecture today. I could always tutor you later, if you want. My place, maybe?" His grin was wide, suggestive, and made my skin crawl.

I felt an immediate surge of annoyance, a flicker of warning bells clanging in my head. "No, thanks, Mark. I've got it," I replied, trying to keep my voice polite but firm, my gaze pointedly on my textbook.

Before Mark could press the issue, a shadow fell over our table. Seungmin had arrived. His pleasant expression had vanished, replaced by a sudden, intense coldness that made Mark visibly flinch and take a half-step back. Seungmin didn't say anything, but his eyes, sharp and predatory, fixed on Mark. His jaw was subtly clenched, his posture radiating a silent, dangerous warning. The silent threat was palpable, heavy in the air. Mark, sensing the dramatic shift in the atmosphere and Seungmin's unspoken, yet potent, displeasure, stammered awkwardly, "Uh, right. Later, Y/N," and quickly retreated, practically scuttling away between the bookshelves like a startled mouse.

Seungmin turned to me, his jaw still clenched, his eyes still burning with an uncharacteristic intensity I rarely saw. "What was that?" he demanded, his voice low, a controlled growl that sent a shiver down my spine.

"What was what?" I tried to feign innocence, though my heart was beginning to thump erratically, a frantic drum against my ribs. I knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Him," he said, gesturing vaguely in Mark's retreating direction. "Trying to 'tutor' you. At 'his place'." His voice was laced with a barely concealed possessiveness, a hint of something that sounded suspiciously like… jealousy. It was a new, unsettling, yet strangely thrilling note in his tone.

"He's just being friendly," I countered, though even I knew it wasn't entirely true. Mark's intentions were anything but innocent. "And besides, it's none of your business anyway. Why do you care so much, Seungmin? You've never cared before."

He scoffed, a short, sharp sound, but there was no real conviction behind it, no genuine disdain. He leaned in, suddenly, intimately close, caging me between his body and the edge of the library table. His hands flattened on the table on either side of me, trapping me in place, his solid frame blocking out the rest of the world. His eyes, dark and intense, searched mine, stripping away any pretense. The air thick with unspoken things, charged with an undeniable current. His scent, a clean, fresh mix of laundry soap and something uniquely him – sharp, cool, and utterly intoxicating – filled my senses, making my head spin. My breath hitched in my throat.

"Why do I care?" His voice was a low whisper, rough with unspoken emotion, barely audible above the quiet hum of the library. "Why do I care? What a stupid question, Y/N. Don't you think I care?" His gaze dropped to my lips, lingering there, hot and intense, then flickered back to my eyes, a silent question passing between us. The space between us dwindled, becoming almost nonexistent, my personal bubble entirely invaded. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, the subtle, almost imperceptible tremble in his frame. My own heart was hammering against my ribs, echoing in my ears, a frantic rhythm against the quiet hum of the room.

"Why do you care so much?" I whispered back, my voice barely a thread, challenging him, my gaze fixed on his, unable to look away. His proximity was intoxicating, terrifying. Every fiber of my being was alive, hyper-aware of him, of the delicious danger of the moment.

He didn't answer with words. Instead, his head lowered, slowly, deliberately, drawn in by an invisible force. His eyes were half-lidded, dark with unspoken desire, an emotion that both thrilled and unnerved me, and his gaze was entirely, possessively on my mouth. I unconsciously parted my lips, a soft gasp escaping, my entire being focused on the undeniable magnetic pull between us. The air thrummed with a silent question, a desperate anticipation, a shared longing. His breath fanned across my face, warm and minty, teasing my senses. His lips were just inches from mine, so agonizingly close I could feel the heat, the subtle movement of his breath, the whisper of air.

Almost.

Just as our lips were about to meet, just as the tension was about to break, the heavy library door creaked open with a loud groan, admitting a group of boisterous students who were laughing far too loudly, their voices echoing in the quiet space. The sudden, jarring sound shattered the delicate bubble of intimacy that had enveloped us. Seungmin stiffened, his head snapping up, his hands instantly retracting from the table as if he’d touched a live wire. He took a hasty step back, putting a sudden, jarring distance between us. His face, which had been so expressive moments before, was now a mask of carefully constructed neutrality, a faint, tell-tale flush high on his cheekbones. His eyes darted around, suddenly cold and distant again.

Neither of us spoke. The unspoken question hung in the air, thick and heavy, a phantom touch on my lips. He looked at me, his eyes quickly sliding away, a flicker of something that looked like self-reproach, frustration, or perhaps even embarrassment crossing his features. Without another word, without even a glance back, he turned abruptly and walked away, disappearing quickly between the towering bookshelves, leaving me utterly alone at the table, my heart still racing, my lips still tingling, the ghost of a kiss haunting the space between us.

The next week was silent. A suffocating, awkward silence. His walls were up again, higher and thicker than ever before, reinforced with a desperate urgency. The playful banter ceased. He avoided my gaze, spoke only in clipped, necessary sentences about the project, his voice devoid of any warmth. I didn't push. The almost-kiss, the raw vulnerability he had shown, the flicker of jealousy – it was all too much, too soon, too exposed. I didn't dare mention it, and neither did he. I knew, with a certainty that settled like a cold stone in my stomach, that he was cursing himself for the nonsense he'd even thought, for almost breaking the fragile new reality we had built. And I, left with the ghost of a touch and an unasked question, didn't know what to do but endure, and wait.

The week that followed the almost-kiss was a torturous expanse of silence. Seungmin had retreated entirely, his walls higher and more impenetrable than ever. He avoided my gaze, spoke only when absolutely necessary for our project, his voice clipped and devoid of any emotion. The casual touches, the light banter, the shared glances—all vanished as if they had never existed. It was like he'd hit a reset button, reverting to the cold, distant person I'd first known, only now it felt worse because I'd seen glimpses of what lay beneath. I didn't push. The humiliation of the near-moment, the crushing weight of his sudden retreat, kept me silent, nursing a quiet hurt and a growing sense of confusion.

-

Then, the inevitable happened. Not between us, but to me. A persistent cough escalated into a full-blown fever, body aches, and a throat that felt like it was lined with sandpaper. Uni became an impossibility. I missed class for a day, then two, then three. By the fourth day, my head still pounded, but the worst of the fever had broken. I was drifting in and out of sleep, nestled deep in my bed, the curtains drawn against the bright afternoon light. My mom, bless her, was a constant, comforting presence, bringing me lukewarm tea and soft blankets.

I vaguely heard the doorbell ring, followed by the murmur of voices. I assumed it was a delivery, or maybe one of mom's friends. A few minutes later, my bedroom door creaked open softly. I stirred, blinking my eyes open, disoriented. Standing in the doorway, framed by the soft light of the hallway, was Seungmin.

My eyes widened in disbelief. He was here. In my apartment. In my bedroom. My mom was right behind him, a small, welcoming smile on her face. "Look who came to visit, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice laced with surprise and a hint of delight. "He was very worried about you."

Seungmin looked undeniably awkward, clutching a small plastic bag in one hand – a box of tissues, a bottle of juice, and a packet of my favorite crackers. "Hi," he mumbled, his gaze sweeping over my disheveled hair and flushed face. He looked pale, almost as if he'd run all the way here.

My mom stepped forward, ushering him gently further into the room. "Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable. You know, you're the first one of her friends who has ever bothered to show up when she's sick." She glanced at me, a soft sadness in her eyes. "She believes having friends would just lead to distractions, make her lose focus on her studies and scholarship. She always said everyone else just used her for notes or favors."

Seungmin froze, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly. He looked genuinely surprised by that. I was always surrounded by people, always laughing and talking. He probably saw me as effortlessly popular, unburdened by the academic anxieties that plagued him. The revelation hung in the air, shifting his perspective, painting a new picture of my own carefully constructed barriers.

My mom gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. "I'll go make some fresh tea for you both." She left the room, giving us a knowing, gentle smile as she closed the door softly behind her.

The silence that followed was different from the one in the library. This was a quiet, intimate silence, tinged with a delicate vulnerability. Seungmin slowly approached my bed, his gaze soft, almost hesitant. He pulled a chair closer, placing the bag he carried on the bedside table. He just sat there, watching me. He didn't speak, just observed, his eyes scanning my face, taking in the signs of my illness.

As the afternoon light faded into dusk my mom had served tea….long back, empty glasses sitting on the side table, he remained. My mom checked on us once, her eyebrows raising subtly when she saw him still there. She didn't press, just smiled. I must have drifted off again, lulled by the gentle rhythm of his breathing. When I next stirred, it was deep in the night. The room was dark, save for the faint glow from the hallway seeping under the door. He was still there, sitting by my bedside, his head resting against the back of the chair, his eyes closed. My mom must have come in while I was asleep because a soft blanket was draped over his shoulders.

Then, I felt it. A soft, warm weight enclosing my hand. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the dimness. His hand. He was holding my hand, his fingers loosely intertwined with mine as he slept. My mom would eventually tell me later that she had come in to check on me again and saw him like that, holding my hand while he slept, and she didn't want to interfere. She simply smiled to herself, a quiet understanding dawning in her heart.

The next morning, I woke to the soft sound of his even breathing. My head felt clearer, the fever gone. I looked at him, truly looked at him. He was still there, asleep in the chair, his head tilted awkwardly. His face, usually so guarded, was softer now, relaxed in slumber, almost boyish. The sight sent a wave of tenderness through me. As if sensing my gaze, his eyes fluttered open. He blinked, a little disoriented, then his gaze met mine. His expression, usually so carefully schooled, was softer than I had ever seen it. All the walls were down, stripped away by exhaustion, by concern, by the quiet intimacy of the night.

He slowly straightened up, his hand still holding mine, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand. His voice, when it came, was a barely audible whisper, raw with a vulnerability that made my chest ache. "I don’t hate you," he murmured, his eyes searching mine, seeking understanding. "I don’t think I ever did, not really. I dunno, Y/N… it's a scary feeling I'm carrying, and I don't wanna hurt you." His grip tightened, a silent plea in his touch. "It's just… I'm not good at this. Not good at… caring about someone like this."

Days Later;

Seungmin's whispered confession – "I don’t hate you. I don’t think I ever did, not really… I dunno, Y/N… it's a scary feeling I'm carrying, and I don't wanna hurt you" – lingered in the air long after he'd left my apartment that morning. It wasn't a grand declaration, but the raw vulnerability in his voice, the tremor in his touch as he held my hand, had irrevocably shattered any remaining doubts. The careful, almost fragile friendship that had begun to blossom in the library now deepened, solidifying into something real and comforting.

The following days, and then weeks, confirmed the shift. He started dropping by my place frequently, initially under the guise of polishing our now-finished project. But it quickly became clear he just wanted to be there. He’d arrive with a quiet knock, slip off his shoes, and settle onto the couch as if it were his own, pulling out his laptop not for work, but just to be present in the same room. My mom, ever perceptive, had taken to him instantly. She adored him, showering him with the kind of warm, gentle attention he clearly hadn't experienced much of. She'd make him extra portions of dinner, fuss over his quiet nature, and listen intently when he spoke. "Your mum likes me more, honestly," he'd tease, flexing his eyebrows at me from across the kitchen table, a rare, genuine smile gracing his lips. I'd swat playfully at his arm, "Not allowed. She’s mine."

It was a few months later, over one of Mom's elaborate Sunday dinners – a spread of comfort food designed to feed an army – that the deepest, most stubborn wall in Seungmin finally crumbled. He had grown comfortable enough in our home, secure in Mom’s unconditional acceptance, to share fragmented stories of his past with her. He spoke quietly, his voice low, about his difficult family, the coldness, the emotional and, at times, physical abuse he had endured, and his painful decision to cut ties completely and move out on his own at a young age. Mom listened, her expression empathetic but never pitying, her hand occasionally reaching out to gently touch his arm. When he finished, instead of offering sympathy, she simply rose from her seat, walked around the table, and enveloped him in a warm, comforting hug. "You are welcome here anytime you want, kiddo," she said, her voice soft but firm, stroking his hair gently. "This is your home now too, if you need it. Always." And that was it. That was his breakdown. The quiet, controlled Seungmin, who rarely showed any outward emotion, dissolved into a tearful, trembling mess in my mother's arms. The simple, unconditional motherly love he had always craved, that unburdened acceptance, finally washed over him, breaking years of hardened self-protection. I watched, my own eyes welling up with a profound mix of tenderness and fierce protectiveness, a silent promise to cherish this vulnerable side of him.

In between these moments of profound openness, things between Seungmin and me became complicated, beautifully worse even, in the best possible way. The academic project, a distant memory now, had earned us both top marks and secured our scholarship applications for prestigious universities, our future paths seemingly aligned. But our personal project, whatever this was, was still a work in progress, an intricate tapestry of unspoken feelings.

He would openly flirt with me now, his words still carrying that dry wit, but with a new layer of playful affection that made my cheeks flush. "Still can't believe I managed to get stuck with someone as hopelessly disorganized as you," he'd murmur, but his fingers would be gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. He’d cuddle me on the couch during movie nights at my place, his arm casually draped around my shoulders, sometimes pulling me closer until my head rested on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He still ruffled my hair a lot, but now it was always followed by a soft, almost shy smile, and sometimes a lingering touch. We shared inside jokes, comfortable silences, and knowing glances that conveyed more than words ever could. Yet, despite the growing intimacy, the undeniable magnetic pull, the unspoken feelings that hummed between us like a tuning fork, neither of us dared to confess the full extent of our emotions. We existed in a limbo of almost-lovers, dancing around the inevitable, a thrilling, terrifying anticipation.

The tension finally reached a breaking point one blustery afternoon. I was heading to the library, my mind buzzing with a new research idea, a spring in my step from our newfound closeness. But then, I saw him. Seungmin was talking to a girl from our literature class near the library entrance. She was leaning in too close, laughing too loudly at something he said, her hand resting casually on his arm. A jolt of something unpleasant, sharp and cold, shot through me, instantly curdling my good mood. Jealousy. My stomach twisted. I watched for a moment, feeling a familiar wave of insecurity wash over me. He seemed to be laughing back, his head tilted towards hers. My heart sank, a familiar ache of disappointment settling in, a fear that all of this was just… casual for him. I turned abruptly, unable to watch another second, and walked away, a bitter taste in my mouth, the spring in my step replaced by a heavy thud.

I spent the next hour trying to focus on my notes, but the image of them, laughing together, kept replaying in my mind, a cruel, endless loop. He knew how I felt, didn't he? Had all those moments, all that closeness, all those late nights, been for nothing? Was he just… like that with everyone? Was I just another 'friend'? The questions churned, making me furious, making my eyes sting.

Suddenly, the heavy library door burst open, slamming against the wall with unusual force, and Seungmin strode in, his eyes scanning the room with a desperate, almost frantic urgency. He spotted me at my usual table, hunched over my laptop, and marched directly towards me, his face etched with a storm of emotions – anger, frustration, and a raw, exposed vulnerability I hadn't seen since the morning he held my hand. He reached my table and, before I could even react, he spun me around, gently but firmly, until my back was against the edge of the table. He leaned in, caging me, his hands pressing down on the table on either side of my hips, effectively pinning me in place. His breath hitched, ragged and uneven, his eyes blazing, a mixture of unbridled fury and something far deeper swirling within their depths.

"What the hell was that, Y/N?" he demanded, his voice low and fierce, cutting through the quiet of the library like a knife. He wasn't yelling, but every word vibrated with intensity. "Why did you just walk away? Why were you giving me that look? That 'I'm disappointed' look?"

"What look?" I retorted, trying to sound nonchalant, to regain some composure, but my voice wavered, betraying me. "Maybe I just had somewhere else to be. Not that it's any of your business, Seungmin."

"It is my business!" he practically snarled, his voice rising in frustration, drawing a few hushed, curious glances from nearby students. He didn't care. His gaze was locked solely on mine. "You saw her, didn't you? That girl? You thought I was flirting back, didn't you, you idiot? You thought all of this" – he gestured vaguely between us – "meant nothing! I shut her down cold, Y/N! I told her I wasn't interested, that I was waiting for someone! Someone specific!"

My breath caught in my throat, a sudden, dizzying hope blooming in my chest. "Waiting for… who?" I whispered, my heart pounding a furious, hopeful rhythm against my ribs, daring to believe.

His eyes burned into mine, pure, unadulterated emotion finally breaking through years of carefully constructed walls. "I like you?" he practically scoffed, the words laced with self-derision, his voice raw with a sudden, overwhelming vulnerability that stripped him bare. "It's so much more than that. I fucking love you, Y/N, and it’s annoying, and it’s terrifying, and I’m not good at this—I'm absolutely terrible at this, I've never felt this before—but I want you. Only you, Y/N. No one else but you." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a desperate, urgent whisper, his forehead almost touching mine, our breaths mingling. "You get under my skin like no one else. You annoy me more than anyone on this entire planet, you make me want to pull my hair out, but fuck, when you don't? When you just ignore me, when you pull away, when you give me that look like I've actually messed up, like I've hurt you? It hurts worse. It hurts me worse. So yes, annoy me. Argue with me. Challenge me. Make me go crazy. And rule me like you own me. Because if I am not gonna be yours, I don't want to be anyone's. I can’t be anyone’s.”

The confession, delivered with all the grace of a charging bull but with the raw, brutal honesty of a soul laid bare, hit me like a tidal wave. My eyes welled up, not with sadness or confusion, but with an overwhelming surge of joy and profound relief. All this time, all the confusion, the unspoken feelings, the subtle touches, the hidden glances—they were real. He loved me. He truly, utterly, loved me.

I didn't need any more words. My hands came up, almost instinctively, cupping his face, my thumbs tracing the sharp line of his jaw. I pulled him closer, meeting his lips with a desperate, all-consuming kiss. It was fierce and tender, raw and emotional, a culmination of two years of antagonism, of quiet observations, of growing friendship, and finally, of undeniable, deeply felt love. He kissed me back with an urgency that stole my breath, his hands coming up to grip my waist, pulling me impossibly close against him, eliminating every last inch of space between us. It was a promise, a surrender, a beginning.

When we finally broke apart, breathless and trembling, he rested his forehead against mine, his eyes still closed, a faint, contented smirk playing on his lips, a stark contrast to the storm that had raged moments before. "Guess you’re not that unbearable after all, hm?" he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble, full of newfound affection.

I giggled, a joyful, light sound that felt entirely new, entirely free. "My mum was right about this…"

He opened his eyes, a playful glint in their depths, pulling back just enough to see my face. "Oh, I love your mom more, honestly," he teased, his smirk widening, a familiar playful challenge.

"Not allowed," I said, a mock threat in my voice as I tightened my grip on his collar, pulling him closer again.

"I was kidding—" he began, but I didn't let him finish. I leaned in and kissed him again, a soft, lingering kiss, sealing the truth of his words, of his love, and of our perfectly imperfect, wonderfully complicated beginning.

….The End

[keiizzx]

instinct | chan

i. sunday (4.5k)

But sometimes, rarely, in little moments like this, you feel the tension.

The unspoken, simple reminder that you are an alpha, and Chan is not.

ii. monday (5k)

There’s a warm feeling in your chest, an almost squeezing sensation, as you watch him.

It looks good. He looks good. You should probably tell him this – for some unfathomable reason, Chan refuses to believe himself good-looking – but the words can’t seem to leave your mouth right now.

iii. monday evening (7.9k)

“A rut…with Hyunjin?”

You think it over, what those words entail, just how surreal they sound. For just a moment, you try to picture it.

You don’t notice Chan glancing over at you as you do so.

iv. tuesday (5.3k)

“So, we’re talking about an omega.”

You blanch. “No.”

“Hypothetically,” Seungmin adds, tilting his head. “Some kind of hypothetical omega friend of yours.”

v. wednesday (6.7k)

“Can I…ask you something kind of personal?”

You frown. “Yeah, sure?”

Chan looks you straight in the eye. “Why are you going through your rut alone?”

vi. thursday (3.7k)

But when the door finally opens, the scent hits you before anything else, and you nearly melt.

Chan.

Chan’s here.

…Oh, fuck. Chan’s here.

vii. friday (5.2k)

This is supposed to be something to share with someone.

And now that the thought has entered your mind, you can’t give it up.

You need to make someone feel good, make them happy, to put all your thoughts and energy into.

You need someone.

viii. saturday (6.7k)

You don’t want to confront the fact that you had basically begged one of your closest friends to come to your room and fuck you until your brain stops working, but as you’re growing more and more lucid, you know it’s only a matter of time before you have to. “I think I’m just…I don’t know, embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” Chan says, firmly.

ix. sunday (5.1k)

If you only had this day left, if Chan was still just here as a favour…

Well, it’s high time you return that favour. Maybe give Chan a glimpse of what things could be like, should he…should the two of you…

You swallow at the thought, already getting nervous.

x. tuesday (2.5k)

Jisung scoffs under his breath. “You guys are going to be so sickening, I can tell.”

“Excuse you,” you say, pouting. “We’re going to be cute as fuck, and you know it.”

[keiizzx]

Frustrating

Summary: Seungmin and Hyunjin were constantly at each other’s throats, mostly fighting over you. So, you decided, that it was finally time to put them both in their place.

College AU

Photography-Major!Seungmin x Business-Major(Rich-Kid)!Hyunjin x Business-Major!Reader

Warnings: dom!reader, sub!members, Seungjin violence with each other, threesome, pegging, cum-play, slight pet-play(?), member on member, corruption kink, mommy kink, slight edging, also it was only quickly edited so there may be a couple mistakes

—-

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Shit!” Seungmin yelped, spinning around and being met with Hyunjin

Hyunjin rose his eyebrow, looking at the boy below him, Seungmin being crouched on the ground behind a bush, a camera in his hands.

“You look like a pervert,”

“I’m making art,” Seungmin squinted at him “Of course you wouldn’t understand that, though,”

“I have pieces you wouldn’t be able to afford if you sold everything you own,”

“Shit that your parents paid for that you don’t know a thing about,” Seungmin muttered, and turned back around “Damnit, I lost her!”

“Lost who?”

“Don’t act dumb. I know you were following Y/N too,” He said, still looking around for you from above the bush

Hyunjin pursed his lips and looked to the side, going quiet for a second.

“At least I wasn’t taking pictures,” He finally spoke

“You took too long to make a comeback. Now you not only look lame, but sound it too,”

“Only cause I’m not nearly as vulgar as someone like you,”

“Someone like me? You mean my money?” Seungmin turned back to face Hyunjin “Y/N may be taking your course, but she’s way closer to my ‘class’ then she is to your pretentious ass,”

“You don’t know I was talking about money!”

“You’re always talking about money. That’s your only personality trait. How rich you are,”

“I’ll show you a personality trait-” Hyunjin scoffed, and went to roll up his sleeves

Keep reading

[keiizzx]

Epic

Dolly IV

~ part 4 of the Dolly series

pairing: lee know x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, horror/sci-fi

synopsis: the human body is the most fascinating thing and you know all about the intricate anatomy of it. ever so curious you purchase a human-looking doll and your life changes forever.

wc: 7.9k

warnings: death & dead bodies, reader is a mortician, mentions of needles and scalpels, sorry if there are any mistakes

nsfw warnings: multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, blood play, knife play, creampies, spanking, oral (m)

~ divider by @bunnysrph

It's eerily quiet around you but that doesn't bother you. Not tonight, not ever. Sometimes the silence is comforting and helps you concentrate on the intricate work you do.

You've always been fascinated with death, ever since you were a child. You weren't scared of it, you welcomed it with your arms wide open and it was your father who exposed you to it since you were young.

It wasn't really on purpose, but having a funeral home inside your house and a curious child was not a good combination.

Your father was a good and warm man, offering a friendly tap on the shoulder and a few consoling words to grieving family members, the ones who sat in his office discussing details about funerals, their noses runny and eyes red from crying.

Not all of them were like that; some just sat there with a numb look on their face, a kind of silent sorrow etched inside their features while there were those that seemed completely emotionless.

You'd always lean behind the wall and listen to them discuss until your father would notice you and send you back to your room. The only room in the house that looked somewhat... alive.

Your father was pretty fascinated with death and any art that surrounded it, prints of Francisco Goya's black paintings adorned the walls in your house; Saturn Devouring his Son, Witches' Sabbath, Two Old Men, Judith and Holofernes, Two Old Ones Eating Soup, Atropos...

They captivated you in a way you couldn't put into words and sometimes they gave you torturous nightmares, but you weren't scared.

You welcomed the darkness into your heart completely; in fact you thrived off of it.

It was one quiet and calm evening when you tiptoed down to your basement. The moonlight cast a glow through the windows as your shadow passed by the paintings staring at you with their freakish eyes.

The door was ajar and you pushed it, the creaking sound cutting the silence of the dark night as your heart started beating in your ears.

There they were on the table. A person who had succumbed to Death itself.

Silently, you treaded towards the sheet-covered body but before your little hand could reach it, your father grabbed your wrist gently, scaring you out of your wits.

"What are you doing here, y/n? You know you shouldn't be here." he said, taking you away from your curiosities.

"I- I just wanted to see."

"I know, sweetheart but it's not the time yet. One day, hopefully, you will take over this business just like I took over from your grandfather. Now, go back to sleep."

"Okay." you nodded, albeit feeling a bit sullen that you didn't get to see the person under the sheet.

It's been years since that night, and now you were the one who offered consoling words and friendly pats on the shoulders of grieving family members.

Your father had succumbed to his illness, leaving you alone in this world, alone with all the darkness and death. Of course, you missed him dearly but he suffered so much in his last years that you were somewhat thankful to Death for taking him.

Wherever he was, you knew he was at peace and watching over you.

Taking over his business was the natural step for you, death was just a part of life, and preparing someone's loved one for their funeral felt honorable and you viewed the entire process as a kind of art. When you were old enough, your father started teaching you bits and pieces about preparation and the embalming process, and of course it was only natural for you to develop even more interest for it and get the needed education.

You worked as his assistant at first and when he got sick you became the caretaker and the mortician.

Of course, you couldn't be the one to prepare your father for his burial, it was too much as you watched him disappear more and more every day while he was sick and you wanted your last memory of him to be as peaceful as it can be.

It's been a few years since then, and you were now one of the most respected morticians in your small town. You kept to yourself mostly, only having one close friend since you were kids, Emily.

But you weren't lonely, you focused on your work and your hobbies, like reading, painting and writing poetry, all in the company of your fur baby, your cat named Shadow. You had rescued the elegant black cat off the street when she was just a small lost kitty and ever since then you became inseparable.

Though, even you weren't immune to the troubles of dating. Most of your partners were a bit put off by your work, to say the least, especially if they'd come around to your house which you had repainted black, the decoration was halloween all year around coupled with the creepy paintings on your walls and the fact that there are dead bodies in your basement wasn't really an aphrodisiac.

It was frustrating because you wished you could share your life with someone who'd be genuinely into the things that interest you.

That's why when you found yourself mindlessly scrolling through social media, an ad caught your eye.

Sex dolls.

You chuckled to yourself as you got more comfy under your blanket, Shadow cracking one eye open to look at you from where she was curled up.

You clicked on it.

One doll in particular pulled you in.

Minho, the dark dolly.

He was beautiful, his hair black and shaggy, falling over his eyes, his features were sharp and perfect, somewhat feline-like and his lips seemed sweet and plump.

You liked the outfit they chose for him, all black like you dressed 99% of the time completed with a choker around his neck.

He was perfect.

You scrolled around looking at the other dolls, they all seemed intriguing but Minho was the one you wanted the most.

Besides, some of them already sold so you decided not to wait and jumped on it, ordering yourself the dark dolly. And it didn't take long for him to be delivered to your house, in a big black box reminiscent of a casket. Shadow inspected the box immediately, sniffing and rubbing against it, she seemed to approve of it.

You opened it up eagerly, finally taking a look at your beautiful Minho and he was even more perfect in real life than all the pictures they had posted.

There was a letter inside the box and you opened it up.

Hello,

my name is Minho and I am your dark dolly.

I love cats, horror movies, yummy food and staying inside.

Please treat me with kindness, even though I like scary things, I have a soft soul so never forget to pat my head.

Hope you'll love me as much as I love you.

"I'm glad you love cats, otherwise I'd have to send you back." you joked, as Shadow put her paws on the box, sniffing around before meowing at you.

"You approve, I suppose?" you asked and your cat meowed once again so you were satisfied.

"I guess you do." you ripped off the rest of the bubble wrap, scaring your cat with your movements as she scurried away to her place on the sofa.

Your doll was dressed in a black button up shirt that was almost see-through, coupled with black leather pants and some fine shoes. He looked so alive, it would've been eerie if you weren't already used to looking at people lying down lifelessly before you.

You noticed a little note sticking out of his pocket so you pulled it out and opened it.

My kitten!

I got ready for our rendezvous.

I hope you like the outfit I chose and I hope you'll enjoy our first night together.

"Kitten, huh? Interesting." you smirked as you grabbed the manual, ready to read it from top to bottom but your curiosity got the better of you so you reached your hand to touch Minho.

"Oh." that definitely felt like human skin.

Something was wrong here and you felt it from the moment you laid eyes on his still body. But of course, you weren't afraid, in fact you were determined to find out the truth.

You read the entire manual carefully, going over it a few times, specifically the part where it said the doll can bruise.

How can the doll bruise if there's no blood inside its body?

"Hm." you threw the manual aside and finally lifted the doll out of its little casket, setting it down on the couch in the sitting position.

It took some time to adjust him but Shadow came to sniff Minho and rub against him, seemingly she liked him very much and you trusted your cat's intuition.

"Give me a moment." you said to the doll before running to get some stuff you needed from the basement.

"I'm sorry for this." you grimaced as you sat down next to Minho.

Just a little prick on the skin is what you needed so you grabbed his hand and brought it closer to you as you held the little needle in your other hand. Quickly, you pricked him and waited for a moment.

Nothing was happening so you sighed putting the needle on a tray you brought. You were just about to get up when you noticed it; a tiny droplet of blood oozing out of your doll's finger. With a gasp you stared at the red liquid.

Your mind was reeling and before you could stop yourself, you brought his finger to your lips, licking at the droplet, the metallic taste of blood was unmistakable. Your doll had real blood inside its body. Something about that frightened you, but that fear ignited a flame within you and you wrapped your lips around his finger, lightly sucking on it, the blood coming out slowly as you lapped at it.

"Oh. Looks like I'm not the only one enjoying this." Minho's eyes were shining and his pants were filling up, the button almost popping off.

He was big and usually you weren't this impatient but it's been some time. Your hand explored his muscular thigh, running up to cup his erection and you swore you could feel him twitch in your hand.

You scooted closer to him, hand tangling in his hair and it was surprisingly soft and it smelled of shampoo like he had just washed it. You leaned in to take a whiff before pressing kisses there all the way down to his cheeks. His soft skin under your lips felt heavenly and you were already getting addicted to him.

You pressed your lips into his softly, then pressed them again a bit harder as your hands roamed on his chest. He was muscle everywhere and you were fluttering on the inside, your arousal increasing the more you touched him.

A loud pop scared you as you jolted looking down to find the source. A small laugh escaped your lips when you realized that the button on his pants had actually popped off.

"Fine, you're eager." you chuckled, sliding his pants down, your eyes on his prominent bulge instantly. Your nimble fingers unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his broad shoulders and strong biceps that were visible in the tanktop he wore.

"Wait. I should undress too." you said and Shadow perked up from her spot before standing up and rushing out of the living room like she had understood what was about to happen.

You took your robe off, letting it fall on the floor, you were left only in the silky black nightgown so slowly you slid that off too, the material pooling around your feet.

Minho seemed to have some kind of reaction, at least his neck flushed a little and you were wondering how it does that. How is any of this real?

That didn't matter after you stripped him completely, your eyes admiring the work of art before you. Hands touching and lips exploring, you didn't care about how freaky all this was.

Somewhere along the way you lost your panties, so you straddled Minho's lap, your hands grabbing his face. He was absolutely stunning and your pussy clenched at the look in his eyes. It seemed like there was a fire inside them, a passion burning wild.

Your hand wrapped around his cock, big and heavy in your hand, making you whimper at the thought of it being inside you. You ran the throbbing tip against your wet folds before slowly sinking down on him.

The stretch was delicious as you took him in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for support, your hands splayed on his muscular back. When you adjusted, you slowly started to move up and down on his length, the squelching sounds filling up the room as you dripped on him.

It seemed as if Minho was looking at you and you sped up, bouncing on him faster, your moans getting louder as you neared your high.

Your nails dug into his flesh as you exploded around him, your hand running down to cup his ass which made him cum too, the warm liquid filling you up and making your eyes roll back.

"Wow." you gasped. Only when you lifted up and circled the couch, you saw that his back had angry red scratch marks.

"Shit, I'm sorry." you leaned over to look at Minho's face.

He seemed to be smirking just a tiny bit?

"I hope it doesn't hurt." you said, not forgetting to pat and caress your dolly's head. You pressed a few small kisses on his cheek before leaving to get cleaned up.

When you came back, Minho was waiting for you in the same position so you cleaned him too and put some of his clothes back on, the pants definitely needed some mending.

"A sex doll?" Emily looked at you in disbelief, holding Shadow in her arms like a baby, moving the cat left and right.

"Yes, isn't he beautiful?" you smirked, patting Minho's head as he sat in your kitchen, company to you and your friend.

"I mean, he is. It's just a little creepy." she said and you gave her a pointed look which made her laugh. "But I shouldn't be surprised when it comes to you. He really looks human though." Emily added, coming closer to the doll as Shadow jumped out of her arms.

"Here's the thing. I pricked his finger the other day and he bled." you told her, adjusting on your chair as you picked up your cup of tea.

"He what? Now, that's creepy. Are you sure it was blood? Maybe it's some kind of trick?"

"Nope, it was definitely blood." you shook your head.

"Hm. Can you like open him up?" Emily asked, making you chuckle.

"Do you know how much I paid for him? I'm not about to cut him up, besides the manual said not to mutilate the doll."

"And why is that? Because they don't want you to know the doll's secrets? Just think about it." Emily shrugged. "Anyways, I have to go. Call me if you find anything out." she added, wiggling her brows.

You took a look at Minho, it hasn't even been a week since he was in your house, but he blended in perfectly with the rest of the decor, even when he was more than that. Shadow seemed to love him, always rubbing against his legs and sleeping on his lap. Animals had a sixth sense when it came to things like this so you trusted that you weren't in any danger. Still, you were so curious.

-

Come evening, you were in a mood.

There was music blasting from your speakers, the lights were all out except the dimmed moody ones and a few candles here and there. The tv was on too, a silent horror film playing on it. Outside, it was raining hard, almost drowning out any other sounds as big droplets kept hitting your window.

Shadow was tucked away in her room and you were wearing lingerie.

Minho was sat on your couch, you turned him to look directly at you as you downed a glass of wine before you started swinging your hips seductively.

The music took you over and you danced, forgetting about everything around you, including your companion Minho whose eyes were following every single movement, unbeknown to you.

"Oh!" you spun a little too fast, colliding with the side of the sofa and chuckling to yourself.

Your eyes fell to Minho, then the coffee table where you had left some cake and knife to cut it with. You bit on your lip as you made your way towards him slowly.

You picked up the knife, twirling the handle once, twice as you smirked at the dolly.

"Are you scared, doll?" you leaned towards him, your tits almost falling out of your skimpy bra as you pointed the knife at Minho.

He didn't seem to react at all.

"No? How about now?" you asked, leaning the knife on his cheek gently. "Or now?" you added, sliding it down his chest and abdomen slowly all the way towards the bulge that appeared in his boxers.

"Enjoying this? I'm glad." you smirked, putting the knife aside for a moment to unhook your bra and slide down your panties.

You undressed Minho too, spreading his legs a little and adjusting him before you turned your back to him.

"Like what you see?" you ran your hands up your hips to your waist as you looked back at him.

The reflection of the candlelight burned in his eyes as you slowly sat in his lap, his length filling your pussy up perfectly, your feet planted on the floor. A moan escaped your lips when you found purchase on his thighs, bracing yourself as you started to bounce on him. The sound of your ass slapping against his abdomen filled up the room and you threw your head back, enjoying the feeling of his tip brushing against your sweet spot.

"Ah! Fuck, Minho!" you moaned his name, feeling him twitch inside you instantly and you gasped as you came, lifting off of him and squirting all over his thighs. What a sweet mess.

"Oh." you moaned, taking him in once again as you sat down and started moving up and down, your thighs burning from exertion. You reached back to grab a handful of his ass, making the doll fill you up.

You leaned on him, your back flush against his chest as you grabbed his arms and wrapped them around you.

"I kinda wish you would come to life but at the same time I don't know if you'd like me. Right now, you have no choice. Isn't that kinda fucked up?" you looked up at Minho but there was no sign of reaction or movement. "Well, don't move. I'll be right back." you joked as you stood up.

You prepared a bath for the both of you, struggling a little to get him in but as soon as you did, you sat between his legs and relaxed in the warm water.

Shadow appeared in your bathroom, meowing at you.

"What is it?" you chuckled, leaning a little to the side to look at her.

Your cat's tail twitched a few times as she stared at Minho, releasing a few more meows before sitting down and continuing to stare at him. You looked back at your doll but he was chilling, looking straight ahead like he always does.

Eventually, Shadow gave up the staring and left the bathroom. Huh, that was weird, you thought but brushed it off as cat behavior.

After drying yourself and the dolly, you got dressed and tucked him in your bed. After years of sharing your bed only with your cat, it was nice to also have someone fill up the empty side of it. And Minho was warm and soft in a way, you had no idea how they made him like that but in the tired and lonely moments, you didn't care.

It's been almost a month since Minho entered your life and you shared almost every moment with him. He had watched you cook and clean, do your hobbies, play with your cat. But, you had yet to take him downstairs.

You weren't even sure if you wanted to. But you were dragging him around the house all the time like a kid drags their favorite teddy bear so you didn't see the harm in it.

Whenever a grieving family came to talk to you, Minho was tucked away in the safety of your room. Today, a particularly loud widow came in to cry to you about her husband who was now in your basement, waiting to be prepared for his funeral.

You reassured her he was in best hands and that you'll make him look as wonderful as you can, since the accident he passed away in had ruined his face.

You just needed to get some things from a few shops before starting, and as soon as the widow left you went to your room to see Minho.

"I'm going to town. I'll be back soon, honey." you chuckled, giving him a peck and a few pats on his soft hair.

You were done with shopping quickly and as the sun was setting you decided to walk across the main square and have a short stroll since you weren't carrying many things.

You saw a little crowd gathered there around someone so naturally curious, you made your way towards it.

An artist was sitting on a little stool, painting a portrait of one of the onlookers. You peered down to look at the canvas, hypnotized by the brush strokes and the movement of this person's hand.

Your eyes followed his arm to his face and your brows furrowed. He looked somewhat familiar. You were trying to think where you had seen him before but kept coming up blank.

"Do you want a portrait?" his voice broke you out of your thoughts.

"Ah, yes sure." you nodded and he started working on it immediately.

He was talented and quick and you kept observing him as he worked, still trying to think where he was familiar from.

"Here. Done." he smiled proudly and you chuckled.

"Thank you, it's really good." you took out your wallet. "Here." you gave him a 100, and his eyes widened slightly.

"Oh, thank you! T-this is a lot! Thank you so much!" he bowed a little as he took the bill from you.

"What's your name?" you asked.

"H-Hyunjin, miss." he looked a little panicked and you gave him a reassuring smile.

"Have I seen you somewhere?" you asked and he chuckled nervously, and you noticed a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Maybe you've seen me paint here." he said but you still weren't convinced.

"Maybe. You come here often?"

"I'm trying to make some money to buy a gift for my lover." Hyunjin smiled fondly and you smiled back.

"That's sweet."

"Thank you. Your portrait." he said as you stood up.

"Oh, thanks for that again. Bye, Hyunjin." you said as you grabbed it.

"Bye, miss." he yelled behind you as you walked away.

-

Finally, you took Minho down to your basement. You put him in safe distance from all the chemicals as you got ready to begin your work.

Minho sat in the corner, his eyes twitching a few times as he stared at your skilful hands. You worked almost on autopilot as you have done this a hundred times, rinse and repeat.

It took a few hours but the man finally looked at peace, you had reconstructed his face as much as you could for an open casket, the embalming process taking up most of the time after that.

After putting the body away and cleaning everything up, your eyes fell to Minho and you friend's words rang inside your mind.

Maybe you could take a little peak inside him? You stood there contemplating, remembering that he did in fact bleed when you pricked him, so if you cut him it might be even messier. You didn't want to hurt him but as always, you were too curious for your own good.

Minutes later, your dolly was shirtless on your table, a scalpel in your hand. Never has your hand trembled but as you brought the blade closer to his skin, your fingers twitched ever so slightly. Your heart sped up as you took a deep breath, pressing the scalpel softly against the doll's skin.

Suddenly, he lifted his hand and grabbed your wrist, his eyes moving to look at you as you screamed, trying to step back but he held on tightly, taking a deep breath that sounded somewhat painful.

"Don't hurt me." he pleaded, his voice raspy as he took in shallow breaths.

You snatched your hand away, the scalpel clattering on the floor as your wide eyes took in the sight before you. Your dolly was alive.

"I always had this irrational fear that some day one of the dead bodies I was working on would wake up." you chuckled.

"I wasn't dead." he sat up slowly and you rushed to him, seeing he was dizzy.

"I know. You bled when I pricked your finger."

"By the way, that hurt." he gave you a look and you shrugged with a smirk.

"What about the part that came after it?" you asked breathlessly as Minho's eyes softened.

"That was more fun." he smirked, making you chuckle. "Can we go upstairs? The fumes are making me nauseous."

You helped Minho up, taking him to the kitchen where he drank four glasses of water quickly while you heated up dinner.

"So, you were aware of everything the entire time?" you asked and he nodded, his cheeks becoming rosy. "I figured as much. Something was fishy ever since you came here. I knew you were alive."

Shadow appeared in the kitchen, jumping up on Minho's lap immediately and he wrapped his arms around the cat, caressing her. She meowed and started purring as she pushed her head into his hand.

"She approved of you from day one."

"I'm glad she did."

"Here, eat and then we can talk." you said, as if this was the most normal thing ever.

-

"It's so nice to be able to move and be outside in the fresh air." Minho noted as the two of you decided to take a walk in the woods behind your house.

The woods were comforting always and even more beautiful now with all the autumn colors painting the leaves. It was a bit chilly but you dressed well, the fresh air was helping you clear your mind.

"I bet it is. So, what do you remember before being here with me?"

"I remember a lab. Tables like the ones in your basement, I remember I didn't look like this from the beginning. I also remember I could walk and move and talk before they put something inside us. We were plugged to something and suspended in water tanks. There was eight of us."

"Oh, I saw the others on the site! Do you remember them?"

"Yes, I do. We all had our cells before they put us in the tanks. Chan was made first. Then there was me, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin and lastly Jeongin." Minho explained.

"Wait, Hyunjin?" you suddenly remembered the artist you ran into.

"Yes, he liked to paint."

"I saw him today!"

"You saw Hyunjin?" Minho's eyes widened. "Like this? Alive?"

"Yeah. Do you think the others are somewhere around here too?"

"Could be. I really miss them. We tried, y/n. We tried to fight the company but there were too many of them and we were kept in such a controlled enviroment. They kept injecting something with these big needles, it would make us sleepy."

"Do you remember anything before the lab?"

"As much as I dig around my mind, I only remember the lab."

"What do you mean, you didn't look like this the in the beginning?" you asked after a quiet moment of taking in everything Minho had told you.

"Well, I don't wanna gross you out with gory details." he said and you laughed.

"Honey, I'm a mortician."

"Right, you poke around dead people." he smiled teasingly.

"What a way to put it." you chuckled.

"Well. If you must know, they added skin later."

"Oh... Oh. So, I'm guessing maybe you're not human? Or at least, not entirely?" you said.

"I have no idea." Minho shrugged with a sigh.

Your hand brushed his as the leaves crunched under your feet.

You took hold of his hand, noticing his shy smile and rosy cheeks as your fingers entwined.

"We'll figure it out."

It's been about two weeks since Minho woke up and you had no idea your dolly would be so shy.

He avoided talking about what he was actually made for and never mentioned you using him for your pleasure multiple times. Minho enjoyed cooking for you and playing with your cat as much as he enjoyed watching you work and being the one to hold you during cold nights.

It was safe. It was comforting. You had found someone who was genuinely interested in what you do. Even when he was a little annoying, asking question after question like a curious child, his shiny eyes staring at you closely as he breathed in your personal space and kept asking stuff like 'What are you doing now?', 'What is that?', 'Why are you putting it there?'.

It was adorable as much as it was irritating, and you loved it.

Outside, it rained hard as you sat on your window bench, reading quietly while Minho sat on the sofa, cuddling with Shadow.

You gave him time to get used to everything, but you were feeling kind of impatient at the same time. Minho was observant, he learned all your little movements, the tone of your voice, what your sighs meant. He loved all the little details that made you you.

So, he stood up and made his way to you which got your attention, and you looked up from your book just in time as he stood in front of you.

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?" he asked and your eyes widened.

"Of course." you smiled then, your face heating up.

Minho sat down close to you, gently grabbing your book from your hands and putting it aside before he touched your face softly. He leaned in and you waited with bathed breath for his lips to collide with yours.

It wasn't what you expected, fireworks and passion, it was more gentle, more profound. He kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered in this world.

"I'm sorry I made you wait. It's just, I'm scared that somehow I will go back to how I was before. And I don't want that to be in that... prison anymore. Being able to see and hear it all but being unable to react, it was terrifying and I still have nightmares about it." Minho confessed as you ran your hands through his soft hair.

"That's not gonna happen, okay?"

"How are you so sure that it won't?" Minho asked.

"Because... I love you and I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." you said, Minho's lips trembled as he searched your eyes before a sweet smile spread on his lips.

"I love you too, my kitten." he smirked before leaning in, this time giving you a more passionate kiss.

It didn't take long for the kiss to escalate as Minho pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. Your hands tangled in his hair as his roamed your body, exploring your curves and dips like he had always wanted to.

He kneeled between your legs, his knee pressed against your core and you whimpered into his mouth as he smirked against yours.

"My sweet kitten, I've always wanted to take care of you." he looked at you, eyes darkened with lust as you gripped onto his strong arms, your hips moving on their own as you rubbed your clothed pussy against his knee.

"M-Minho." you whined, throwing your head back and his lips attached to your neck and collarbone, traveling down between your breasts as he left hungry kisses everywhere. His hands gripped your waist before sliding down to grab your ass and lift you up.

You squealed as he turned your body towards the window; the view outside was breathtaking, all the leaves twirling in the wind, the rain dragging them down and washing them away just as the sky darkened.

"Here?" you gasped and he chuckled.

"Everywhere." he whispered in your ear before lifting your little nightgown and revealing your lacy panties.

"Very sweet." Minho grabbed handfuls of your ass and you moaned, nails scratching at the bench you were just sitting on. His fingers slid on your folds, your arousal soaking through the lace as he kept touching you, giving you a few spanks with his other hand.

You moaned his name, pushing back into him, your body craving for more; you were so touch starved that you lost your mind immediately, melting into Minho and giving him total control over you.

He wanted you as much as you wanted him so he slid your panties down just enough to have access to your wet pussy as he slid his pants and boxers down at the same time.

"I promise I'll take it slow later. I just need to have you right now." he breathed out as you felt the tip of his hard cock press and slide against your folds.

"Take me, Minho, please!" you pushed back again and he spanked you quickly, making you whimper.

"Stay still, kitten." he purred as he slowly pushed in and the stretch was perfect, your pussy taking him in easily until he filled you up completely.

"You feel perfect around me." he groaned as he started moving slowly, his hands splayed on your ass as you pressed your forehead into one of the decorative pillows on your window, little gasps and moans escaping your lips.

"Ah!" you moaned loudly when he hit your spot, biting down on the pillow as Minho's hand tangled in your hair, lifting your head up slowly.

"Let me hear you, kitten." he said, fucking into you harder, the sounds of skin slapping skin making your ears warm up in embarrassment. You caught a glimpse of your reflection in the window, seeing the expression on Minho's face sent shivers down your spine, your pussy clenching around his cock.

You let go and started moaning loudly, and the louder you got the faster he fucked into you.

"Just like that." he whined and you gasped, cumming around his length, making him more slippery and wet as he held onto you.

It only took a few more erratic thrusts before Minho exploded inside you, his warm cum filling you up deliciously and making you cum once more at the feeling of it.

"Oh." he gasped as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly for a few moments. You finally turned around, grabbing his face and giving him a sloppy wet kiss.

"I love you." you smiled as he pulled you into a hug.

"I love you. I'm glad I came to you." he whispered.

"Me too."

The two of you were cuddled up with Shadow under a blanket, watching a horror movie per Minho's request when your doorbell rang.

"That must be Emily." you stood up quickly and Minho looked at you with a panicked look in his eyes.

"You sure she won't freak out?" he asked and you shook your head.

"No, she's literally seen everything with me." you chuckled as you went to open the door. Minho sat still on the couch, cuddling Shadow to calm his fast beating heart.

"Emily, I'd like you to meet someone." you pulled your best friend into the living room and she looked at Minho confusedly for a moment.

"Didn't we meet already?" she chuckled and Minho's lips fell open.

"She's not gonna faint is she?" he asked, making the both of you laugh.

"Not that I know of." Emily said with a shrug. "Look Minho, when you're friends with y/n for years, nothing really surprises you anymore. Plus, she told me in advance. Everything that happened and what you remember." she added as you served some tea for her.

"Minho sometimes has nightmares about the company." you added.

"Did you remember any more details?" Emily asked after taking a sip of tea.

"Not really. Just bits and pieces, it's more like feelings. Fear, dread, isolation. I especially hated when they experimented on us, the tables. I don't know what they did to us cause I couldn't move and look down but it hurt. The water tanks seemed to alleviate the pain though." Minho explained.

"Okay, now that is creepy." Emily said and you nodded.

"Did you manage to find anything on the site?" you asked her and she shook her head.

"I tried hacking it. It has top security on it, it's out of my skill range." Emily sighed. "I wish I could be of more help."

"Hey, you being here is enough for me." you grabbed her hand as she smiled.

"Oh, do you maybe know where the company is?" Emily suddenly remembered and Minho shut his eyes tightly, willing himself to think of the location.

"Ugh. I can't remember no matter how much I try. I don't remember traveling from there to your house." he looked at you.

"It's okay. We can try again another day." you said, caressing his back to calm him down.

It was all so suspicious and you were too interested in finding out more about where you dear dolly came from.

You were enjoying an afternoon nap when a loud clatter jolted you out of your dreams.

"What are you doing, Min?" you rubbed your eyes as you walked into the kitchen.

"Oh. I'm making dinner for us. It's been exactly five months since I came here so I wanted to do something special." he said, his cheeks rosy.

"Aw, you are so sweet." you melted instantly, making him chuckle shyly.

When you sat down to eat the delicious meal he prepared, you got to thinking.

You've never been so happy or felt so seen. Living with Minho, sharing the day and night with him came easy to you. Everything seemed more lively since he came into your life, even death became an afterthought when you spent time with Minho.

"Thank you for the wonderful dinner." you smiled.

"Of course." he stood up and you followed quickly, almost knocking your chair down.

"Wait here a sec." you told him before running off to your room. If he had made an effort with the main course, you were going to make effort with the dessert.

Minho decided to tidy up as he waited for you, his heart beating hard in anticipation. While you were sleeping, he saw the lacy set you had put out in your closet earlier and he was so excited to see you in it... or take it off of you.

"Min, come here!" you yelled from the room once you were ready and Minho all but tripped over his feet, the carpet and Shadow who was lounging in her spot before he came to you, looking as cool as a cucumber. He leaned on the wall and smirked at you.

"What do you think?" you asked, giving him a little twirl. The lingerie you wore left nothing to imagination.

"I think you look stunning." he said, somewhat breathlessly as his face heated up.

"You gonna do something about it?" you taunted and he made his way to you, his eyes filling up with lust.

His hands landed on your waist as he pulled you in, his lips pressing against yours. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as you pressed your body as close as you could to his and his hands slid down to grab your ass.

You moaned into his mouth as he started massaging it, then giving it a few loving spanks.

"Fuck, let me take care of you, my love." you pushed him towards the night stand and Minho's eyes widened as you got down on your knees.

"Oh." he let out a quiet sound as you slid his pants and boxers down, not wanting to waste any more time. His cock was already hard and ready for you to play with and you were just too eager.

Your fingers wrapped around the base of his length as you leaned in closer, giving a few kitten licks to his tip, collecting the drops of pre cum on your tongue.

Minho breathed in sharply, his hands grabbing at the night stand behind him. You smirked, swirling your tongue around the tip, occasionally dipping it into his slit and trying to tease him as much as you could.

"Kitten." Minho moaned quietly, his hand tangling in your hair as you started sucking on the tip gently.

You were sure you couldn't take all of him but you were even more sure you were going to try anyways, so you slid down, taking more of his length in and trying to get used to it.

"You look so beautiful right now." Minho smirked, gripping your hair and holding you against him tightly. You moaned around him, sending vibrations through his body as you slid down more.

You bobbed your head up and down, wetting his cock with your spit and gagging around him multiple times and Minho couldn't help his desire as he slowly started to fuck into your warm mouth.

"Ah, y/n!" he groaned, accidentally pushing harder and making you gag. You slid off of him and he looked at you with panic in his eyes.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, his palm gentle against your cheek.

"No, I'm fine." you said, biting on your lip. "Just very needy right now."

"For what?" he smirked and you whined.

"You."

"Get on the bed, kitten." he said and you stood up immediately, lying down on the bed.

Minho climbed in after you, kneeling between your legs as he pushed your panties aside.

"This what you need?" he smirked, sliding the tip of his cock against your wet folds.

"Mm, yes." you moaned, already arching your back at the slightest touch.

"Hmm, I'm not convinced." he smirked.

"Please!" you whined desperately, making Minho chuckle.

"Okay." he said but you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes and you knew he was going to tease you some more.

He pushed in just the tip, fucking you slowly with it.

"Ah, Min!" you whined as he kept smirking, giving you a minimal amount of stimulation.

Your eyes teared up in frustration as Minho kept fucking you only with the tip, your pussy clenching and begging for more.

"Please, please!" you cried.

"More?" he teased, pushing a bit more in and staying still.

"All of it."

"As you wish darling." he said before pushing all of his length in and fucking you slowly.

You moaned as you wrapped your arms and legs around him and Minho held you close as he kept rocking his hips into you.

You reached bliss together, wrapped up in each other, completely content.

"Wait." you giggled as Minho started getting up so he can get a cloth to clean you up.

"What?" he asked and you pulled him closer, patting his head gently.

"Oh." he giggled cutely before standing up and almost running off to the bathroom.

While you laid there waiting for him, your phone started ringing.

"Ugh." you groaned and rolled over to grab it.

"Hello?"

"Miss l/n?"

"Yes, this is she." you sat up, thinking it was someone calling for your funeral services.

"We are calling regarding our dolly collection. We understand you have purchased our dark doll, Minho." the cold voice on the other end said.

"Yes, I have."

"We regret to inform you that the collection will be pulled back from the public and we will be taking all the dolls back to our company due to a malfunction. You will get your refund of course. We will come pick the doll up tomorrow morning." they said right as Minho came in.

"Okay, thank you for calling." you said politely before finishing the call.

"Who was that?" Minho asked.

"It was your company, apparently they are taking all the dolls back to the lab due to a malfunction."

"What? Please, don't let them take me! I can't go back there!" Minho looked angry and scared instantly.

"Oh they can come here. But they won't find anything. I have a plan, my love." you smirked.

You were not about to let anyone take away your happiness.

The doorbell rang at 9am sharp and you took a deep breath before opening the door.

There were six men in black suits and emotionless faces standing there and looking at you.

"We've come to pick the doll up."

Suddenly, you hiccuped and started crying.

"He is gone! My dolly is gone! I woke up this morning and looked for him everywhere. But there is no trace of him. I-I put him in my bed like always but he disappeared!" you cried and the men exchanged a look.

"Mind if we take a look around?" one of them asked.

"Please, go ahead." you let them in and they started snooping around immediately. Shadow hissed at them, running away as soon as one of the men came anywhere near her.

They were definitely dangerous.

"W-what kind of malfunction happened to the dolls?" you asked, blowing your nose in a napkin.

"We aren't allowed to discuss that." they answered.

"What's downstairs?" one of them asked.

"My preparation room. This is a funeral home." you said and they gave you suspicious looks.

"Can we take a look there?"

"Of course." you nodded and opened the door.

Then men looked around as you followed them, still crying silently and hiccuping a few more times.

"Well, he is not here. Don't worry about it, miss. You will still get your refund and the doll will be found." they finally gave up after checking every nook and cranny, or so they thought.

"Okay, thank you for coming." you said as they left.

You waited for them to get into their van and drive away before you ran back downstairs.

"They left!" you quickly opened one of the caskets and Minho sat up, taking a deep breath in.

"Gosh, I almost suffocated. I could hear them walking around here, it was so scary." he said as you grabbed his face gently.

"But they didn't find you." you smiled.

"No, thanks to my genius lover." he smiled back at you as you leaned in to kiss him.

"What do we do now?" he asked when you parted.

"We wait to get the refund. And then we'll see what our next step will be."

"Are you sure they won't come looking for me here again?" Minho sighed.

"They can try. But I won't let them take you away from me. I promise."

Minho wrapped his arms around you tightly, putting all his trust into your hands.

You knew you were running a risk as long as you stayed here, but there were preparations needed to be done before you could get away.

And you wanted to make sure there was no trace left for the wrong people to find you.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @eastjonowhere @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0

[keiizzx]

Where You Belong

Fem!Reader When you move into a house with 8 men for six months, one seems to be do everything he can to make you stay. <pt3 pt4 pt5>

♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡

You felt the heat of his breath against your skin, the sensation grounding you in a moment that felt almost too vivid to be real. His hands, warm and steady and calloused, cradled your face with a gentleness that made your heart ache.

The closeness was suffocating in the best way- the way his lips brushed yours, hesitant but deliberate, made you forget about everything else. The way he made you feel was undeniable. It was safe and exhilarating all at once.

The way he touched you felt reverent- like every movement, every graze of his fingertips along your jawline, was a confession. His thumb lingered on the edge of your lower lip, and your breath hitched as he leaned in closer. The world around you faded further into obscurity, leaving only the press of his body against yours and the overwhelming heat between you.

When his lips claimed yours again, it was deeper this time- slow, exploratory, and unhurried, his teeth grazing into your bottom lip gently and leisurely, as if he was savoring every second. Your fingers found their way into his hair, tangling in the damp strands as you pulled him impossibly closer. There was no rush, no urgency, just a steady, all-consuming connection that left you breathless and yearning. His other hand trailed down your side, grounding you, sending a jolt through your veins.

His voice, low and gravelly, murmured your name like a secret meant only for you. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you clung to him, afraid that if you let go, the moment would shatter. The haze around you made it all the more tantalizing, and you wanted to say his name, but it was stuck in your throat. Refusing to crawl its way past the same lips interlocked with his. Then just as it started to form-

BEEP BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP-

You were in your room, tangled in your sheets, the early morning light peeking through the curtains. Your alarm was beeping and you felt dizzy.

What was that dream?

Your chest rose and fell as you tried to catch your breath. It was just a dream, you reminded yourself, though the phantom sensation of whoever you were kissing's touch lingered, trailing goosebumps along your skin.

Pressing a hand to your flushed cheek, you tried to shake the vividness of it from your mind. It was so real… too real. But who was it?

It wasn't my ex...deep down I know...but who else...

The thought followed you as you stumbled out of bed and shuffled toward the kitchen, still trying to piece together the fragments of the dream. You barely had time to orient yourself before you were bombarded.

“Y/N! Morning!” Jisung practically tackled you with a hug, his bright grin melting away the remnants of your sleepy haze.

“Ji, I just woke up,” you groaned, though you couldn’t suppress the small laugh bubbling up as he clung to you like an overexcited puppy, and you leaned in, his embrace becoming something you had quickly gotten familiar with the past month.

“Doesn’t matter! Morning hugs are mandatory!” he declared, finally letting you go. "We made you breakfast since its your late day."

You couldn't help but smile as you sat down at the kitchen island next to Jeongin who for some odd reason looked guilty. 

You rose and eyebrown and sniffed the air. 

"Jeongin..."

He didn't answer.

"Innie." 

Still no answer.

You sighed. 

"Yah, Oppa." 

The fox eye boy turned to you. "Yes."

"Did you use my shampoo again?"

"Why would you think that?" He asked with a serious face.

"Because it smells like green apples."

"Are you sure you aren't smelling the apple slices on your plate? You eat them so much you could become a green apple."

You stood up to sniff his hair. Not noticing the onslaught of eyes on you.

"Yah, is our baby bread finally making moves?" Chris teased but before he could answer you smacked Jeongin's arm.

"You dingbat! You smell like green apples- that shampoo set cost me fifty dollars! It's hair care repair!" You exclaimed emphasizing each word with a smack.

"Ah! I said I didn't- is that anyway to speak to your elder- AH HYUNG SHE'S CHOKEHOLDING ME-"

You didn't notice as a pair of quiet eyes zoned in on your interaction with the youngest man, as you interacted with anyone in the house.

They’d all welcomed you like family, with the exception of some awkward moments, but soon it just felt like a household of siblings, you being the baby and the girl. And moments like this did nothing but prove that dynamic.

But the adjustment wasn’t without its bumps. On both sides. Some bumps hidden, some more prominent.

Like balancing your own job while trying to navigate their chaotic schedules had left you stretched thin.

Still, moments like these made it worth it.

Felix’s pancakes, Jisung’s endless jokes, the way Hyunjin would teach you to paint on your off time like he was Bob Ross, the way Seungmin would tease you in his quiet, sharp-witted way, and Chris and Changbin treated you as if you were their sister- even the still tense moments you had with Minho it all felt like home in a way you hadn’t expected.

Even if you wish the moments with the latter would become eased. 

You overall enjoyed eveerything, from the busy mornings, to the late nights hearing the boys in their makeshift studio, even if it meant you got a few less hours of sleep. 

Overall it made you feel like you were getting your life back on track, to be fully on your feet in the next five months. 

But things had been going too well for too long, and that afternoon your world began to crumble before it could even truly begin to mend.

The conversation from your boss had been curt, impersonal:

"We’ve decided to move in a different direction. Effective by the end of today, your position has been terminated."

You rreplayed it over and over, hoping you’d misunderstood, but the words didn’t change.

The job you’d fought so hard to keep, the stability you’d clung to, was gone in an instant. 

Just like you had lost everything with your boyfriend in an instant, this was like a moment of Deja Vu. Yet somehow the feeling felt even worse than it had when your relationship of years went down the drain.

By the time you got back to the apartment, head filled with negative thoughts as you walked home from the bus stop in drizzling rain, tears were streaming down your face. You’d tried to hold it together, but the weight of it all was too much.

You stood at the doorstep of the front porch, letting it out, not wanting anyone to see you like this. You started to wipe your face, reaching for your key.

You didn’t even realize someone was there until you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you saw Chan, his expression soft with concern.

“Hey, what happened?” he asked gently, crouching slightly to meet your eyes, and setting his umbrella on the porch.

You shook your head, trying to wipe your tears away. But he reached his arms out pulling you into them.

"Its okay. You'll be okay."

The dam broke then, and you poured out everything. How you lost your job today and how it was making you feel. How it made you worried and how you were regretting everything. How you’d been feeling overwhelmed, and now burdened; how you weren’t sure what to do next. Chan listened intently, his presence solid and unwavering as he rubbed your back.

When you finally finished, he gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve got you,” he said firmly. “Actually, I was going to bring this up soon anyway, but now’s as good a time as any. We could really use someone to help manage our schedules and handle some of the day-to-day stuff. If you’re interested, the job’s yours. No hesitation.”

You blinked at him, the offer catching you completely off guard. “I...”

“Don't even think about saying no. Matter of fact...you start tonight."

"Chris..."

"You’re already part of the family, Y/N-ah. This just makes it official,” he said with a grin, petting your head real quick. 

You began to cry again and he pulled you back into his arms until you heard a voice from behind.

"Hyung-ah..." You turned to see Minho and Jisung looking at Chan. They'd visibly just come back from shopping, green apples and your favorite protein powder that Changbin had used up sticking out from the bag Minho was holding. 

Chris smiled and went to go help with the bags and you looked at Minho, something unrecognizable flashing through his eyes. Jisung quickly ran up to you, asking about some anime you two were planning on binging later, drawing your attention away from him.

************************************************************************

Later that evening, after dinner, you found yourself sitting at the dining table, looking through a stack of potential venues for the next show the guys were planning. Chan had explained all that you needed to do for now and you were focused on doing your best to not disappoint.

The evening had settled into a calm silence after everyone ate and the boys had scattered around, some relaxing in the living room, others scrolling through their phones. It was easier to focus with the quiet; papers spread out in front of you.

The gig locations were a bit overwhelming, and despite your best efforts to focus, you felt a twinge of uncertainty. But you didn't feel uncertain enough to ask any questions just yet.

Minho approached you quietly, like a cat, his footsteps soft as he stood behind you. His gaze lingered on the papers for a moment, and then he pointed to one with a quick, no-nonsense motion.

He leaned over you and you tensed slightly.

“This one,” he said, his voice low. “It’s small. Good acoustics.”

You looked at the location he indicated, nodding slowly. It made sense now that you thought about it. More of an intimate environment, better for fan interaction. You wanted to ask if there was anything else to take into consideration, but before you could, Minho was already stepping away.

Without another word, he moved towards the kitchen. The sound of dishes clinking softly filled the space as he started cleaning up. It was a simple, quiet moment, but it felt...oddly intimate. You watching him do something so simple. You shook your head and turned back on your work, but your attention kept drifting towards him against your will.

Minho moved around the kitchen with ease, his broad shoulders and strong arms flexing as he scrubbed plates. The way he concentrated, the quiet focus in his actions, made you momentarily forget everything else. He was chewing on a piece of gum as he worked to tidy up, and the movement caught you eye more than anything.

Focus Y/N. You lucked out with this you need to focus...

Then, a soft sound caught your attention, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see him setting a plate in front of you. On it, a series of apple slices, carefully cut into small, delicate rabbit shapes.

The green apples shimmered under the dim light, their crisp freshness promising a much-needed break.

“You seemed anxious at dinner,” Minho said, his voice almost absent, as though he hadn’t meant to break the silence at all. He turned back toward the kitchen, not looking at you.

You stared at the apples for a moment, feeling the quiet stillness of the room pressing in on you. You picked up a slice, biting into it, the tang of the green apple sharp and sweet.

As you chewed, your eyes lingered on Minho. He was still in the kitchen, but now he was moving with a certain rhythm- something soothing in the way he worked, purpose with every movement. The clink of the dishes, the hum of his focused energy, filled the space between you. Now did it not only feel oddly intimate but oddly comforting.

But at the same time, you noticed the tension in his posture, the subtle furrow of his brow as he wiped down the counter. He seemed lost in thought. There was something in his expression, a flicker of discomfort that you couldn’t quite place.

In the silence, you found yourself wondering what was going on in his mind. What was he thinking?

Minho’s hands paused on the counter for a second, his gaze drifting out the window, his brow still furrowed. You couldn’t read him, but there was something unmistakable in the way he seemed conflicted.

His mind was racing, and he knew it. He couldn’t quite place the odd feeling swirling inside of him.

Part of him was glad you were here, sharing space with him and the others. You were friendly, easygoing, and yet, there was something about you that got under his skin and irked him.

Was he jealous that you were becoming so close to the guys?

Was that it?

Or maybe it was just the awkwardness that had lingered from the first time he’d met you? He wasn’t sure.

But then, something shifted. It was a thought so fleeting, so strange, that it stopped him in his tracks.

When he had seen the apples at the store, he’d thought of you.

And for some reason, that thought unsettled him more than anything else.

“Maybe I’m just being a dick,” he muttered to himself, the words slipping out quietly. He was still scrubbing the countertop, but his mind was somewhere else, tangled in a mess of feelings he couldn’t untangle.

He was distant around you, so much so you seemed to be a little wary around him. But he was only distant because of this odd feeling. He had never been around girls all that much. Moving in with the guys at a rather early age. And he had much rather be in solitude than interact with others.

“Maybe I'm just not used to being around girls,” he thought, but it didn’t sit right. He knew that wasn’t entirely true. It couldn’t that simple.

And then the feeling hit him again- the odd tension, the confusion.

He wanted you around, he realized. He liked having you in the house, even though it irked him.

Maybe it was just the mess of new dynamics.

Maybe it was jealousy because it seemed to spike whenever you were hanging out with one of the guys. They had been his friends first.

So that was the most plausible solution, wasn't it?

Or maybe it was something else. He just couldn’t pinpoint it.

All he knew was there was something about you. Something that made him think about you when he sliced saw green apples, of all things.

Something that made him want to cut those apples into little rabbits, because he had seen you barely touch your plate.

Minho took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. There was no denying that whatever it was, he couldn’t shake the feeling.

Not now, not with the way you were sitting there, quietly eating the apples he’d prepared for you, as you scribbled something down, quietly bouncing one of your legs.

Is she always that anxious?

He let out a quiet exhale and turned back to the sink.

“I’m definitely overthinking this,” he muttered under his breath.

But...he wasn't exactly opposed to the thought of you being in his head.

♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡

Taglist: @witchyquills @6demonica9 @lailac13 @furfoxsake22 @lolareadsimagines @sunnysidesins @innies-goth-gf @jolly04 @aprilmaejune77 @chancloud8 @bins-bahng @vegetablesarefuntables @skybluelixie @seekingalex @hanji-coffee @lemonn015 @riri53 @mxltshake @kayleefriedchicken

Permanent Taglist: @abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @thefanficqueen @emilyywhyy

[keiizzx]

The Dolly series (TAGLIST & MASTERLIST) (CLOSED)

THE TAGLIST IS NOW CLOSED!

For everyone who has read my Hyunjin Dolly fic, I'm making this post where you will be able to comment if you want to be added or removed from the taglist to this series.

The series will consist of 9 chapters, each for one individual doll, and they will tie in together in the final chapter.

I will edit this post more later, this is just to have the taglist in one place.

Taglist & Masterlist under the cut.

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @juskz @quokkacidal @chuuyaobsessed @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @lixies-favorite-cookie @thelostprincessofasgard @linocvp1d @stayjinnie @portgasdbru @lilgothhishhh @selinia86 @felixsbabe @staytinyluva @sadroses98 @katexstay @gnabnahcsworld @hazelbazil @iwannahugchangbin @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @skzfelixlove @skzjen @syedazarintasnim @geektacularmommom-blog @cookiesnmilfx @kayleefriedchicken @stxt-bby @strykdsstanot8 @hyunjinhwang2018 @binniesbabygirl @hyunjiniretti @linavc @julciaqwerty @salemluvsmusic @diipsy

~ bolded couldn't be tagged

Summary of the series:

A line of eight unique sex dolls has been released for the public to try out.

It's fun to play with them, but there is a truth waiting to be discovered under that guise of fun.

Which doll would you like to order?

Masterlist

1. Hyunjin, the romantic doll

2. Seungmin, the mischievous doll

3. Felix, the comforting doll

4. ???, ???

5. ???, ???

6. ???, ???

7. ???, ???

8. ???, ???

9. xxx

[keiizzx]

Fire ahh writing🔥🔥

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝟏𝟎 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 - 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱

Pairing: Lee Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, slight smut (piv!)

Summary: Felix Lee makes a bet with his co-workers in which he had to make a woman fall in love with him within 10 days, but he picks the wrong woman, who's working on an article for the magazine she works for called 'How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days' and she had chosen him as his prey. Based on one of my comfort movies: How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days (2003).

Word Count: a whooping amount of 13.2k

PS: this is an old fic of mine from my old ao3 account (that i don't use anymore lol), i rewrote it with Lix instead. You can check it out here. Also, i proofread this but i don't trust myself that much so, if you see any mistake, feel free to let me know pls.

MASTERLIST // my Ko-Fi

Day 1

“I’m going back to bed, I have no reason to live”

“Oh Karina! Come on. Get up, I’m not gonna let you lose your job over a stupid guy” you said.

Karina laid in bed, tears both fresh and dried on her cheeks, heartbroken over a guy she met, fell in love with and then told her he didn’t want anything serious. 

“Oh, oh Y/N” Karina said, hugging you. 

“You only dated the guy for a week” You reminded her in a whisper. 

“It was the best week of my life, Y/N. He was perfect” she sniffled. 

You sighed and pulled away from the hug. “Come on. I’m sure Seulgi yelling at us because we didn’t write the article like she wanted us to will bring you back to reality and will make you forget about the douche you dated” you said with a smile, making her chuckle.

You helped her get dressed and then got in a taxi to the Composure offices, where you, Karina and your other best friend, Ryujin worked. Composure was a ‘girly or gay’ magazine, as everyone liked to call it, created by Kang Seulgi, where you could find either the latest trend in fashion, the Kardashians latest fake scandal or how to catch men like Harry Styles. You found all the articles that were written in the magazine a little bit sexist, you studied journalism to become a real one, not a gossip writer for a cheap magazine. But it was a job that gave you a certain status, you couldn’t complain. 

When you arrived at the Composure offices, you opened the door of the cab for Karina, who held a couple of tissues in her hand. She blew her nose and got surprised by Ryujin who was holding a cup holder with 3 newly ordered coffees from Starbucks. “Hey honey” Ryujin winced when she saw Karina state.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it okay?” she smiled through the pain, making you and Ryujin nod. 

You got inside the big building and pressed the button that led to the Composure floor. 

Karina broke down and leaned her head on the elevator wall. “Why? Why does this always happen to me? I get this great guy, and everything’s amazing for a week and a half, and suddenly, it’s over and I’m mystified!” she cried. 

The people inside the elevator were looking at the girl with furrowed eyebrows and you glared at them, making them look the other way.

“Mingyu and I had such a connection” she gushed over him. “Like-like the first time we had sex, it was so beautiful. I even cried” she said.

You pressed your lips together, suddenly very aware of the people inside the elevator. “You mean like, shed a tear, wiped it with a finger. Right?” 

“No, I was very emotional. I even told him that I loved him” she explained, with a shake of her head.

“After how many days?” Ryujin asked sipping on her coffee to hide her grimace.

“Five” she said and then looked the other way. “Two”

You and Ryujin sighed loudly.

“But… I just felt like he needed to know” she said. 

“Well, what did he say?” you asked.

Karina sighed. “He didn’t have to say anything. I knew he felt the same as me” she smiled and then she frowned. “But then he started getting really busy… I didn’t know where he was at times. I kept calling him, calling him and calling but he was never home!”

“You kept calling him?” You asked, wincing.

“Well he wasn’t answering” she defended herself. “Plus he didn’t know it was him, my number was blocked”

“Oh sweetie” Ryujin said. “I’m sure he thought it was one of his friends”

The elevator dinged and you got out, Ryujin and Karina following behind. 

“Rina, honey. You do realize you were way too pretty for him? I mean, you were like Kaia Gerber when she was dating Pete Davidson!” you explained. “You need to be in a relationship like Megan Fox and Machine Gun Kelly, you can’t decide which one is hotter” 

Karina huffed. “Maybe but… for me, he was really handsome. And cute. Ugh, he was perfect” she said and a few tears slipped from her cheek.

“No, wait. Don’t cry honey. What Y/N and I want to say is that you need to realize that if this guy didn’t like you for who you were, then screw him” Ryujin explained. 

“Yeah, but I know why he dumped me. I’m too fat” 

“You’re not fat!” both you and Ryujin said.

As you climbed up the stairs to get to your respective offices you sighed. “Okay, Rina, look. Even if the most beautiful girl in the world acted the way you did, a normal guy would still be running in the other direction” you said, as your friends followed behind you. 

“No guy would be running away from you, Y/N” Karina said. “I mean, you could barf all over him and he’d say, “Thank you, can you please do it again?”” she said, making you laugh.

“Okay, that is absolutely disgusting and totally not true!” you laughed at her metaphor. “Cause if I did the things you did, I’d get dumped too. Anyways, enough with this Mingyu bullshit. I got two tickets for the Knicks game for tomorrow that Ryujin got from his cousin, and since you’re the only one available, you could join me, maybe?”

“Nah thanks, I’d like to sit in my misery for a couple more days” Karina sighed. 

The three of you got inside Seulgi’s office along with other co-workers. 

“Alrighty, family. What do we got for the next issue?” Seulgi asked.

Ryujin raised her hand. “As you asked, I got the latest The Bachelor drama covered, and I also answered a few of the questions users asked us on the website”

Seulgi nodded. “Great work, Ryujin. What about How-To with Y/N?”

You smiled. “I worked on something different and completely new for the issue. It’s uh… a political piece--”

“--Y/N. You work for Composure magazine. Not Forbes” Seulgi said sternly. “We are fashion, drama, gossip, cosmetic surgeries, you name it. That’s what Composure is about”

“Yeah, I know but--”

“Y/N, you writing in the column is new for you, I get it. But you’re working for me , and until I decide when you are going to write whatever you want, you write whatever I want. Okay?”

“Yeah” you nodded, looking at your skirt, not wanting to look Seulgi in the eyes. 

“Karina, what do you got?” Seulgi sighed.

She lifted her head and paled. “I…Uh… sorry, Seulgi. I wasn’t feeling very well” Karina said.

“She got dumped” Ryujin quickly filled in, earning a glare from Karina. 

“Oh, no… Karina. It must be feeling hellish for you these past few days, but I must say you’re looking gorgeous” Seulgi complimented. “Doesn’t she?” she asked and everyone nodded, complimenting her. 

Karina sighed. “I haven’t been eating since the split”

“Good for you! Write about it” Seulgi said. Ryujin and you looked at each other and grimaced. 

“I can’t use my personal life as a story” she said, her voice small.

Seulgi smiled. “I understand completely. Who will use Karina’s story for their article?” she asked suddenly. 

“No, no, no. Wait, Seulgi. With all due respect no one has business here using my story for an article in a magazine, I’m sorry but--”

“I’ll do it” you said suddenly, an idea clicking in your mind. 

“What?” Karina looked at you. 

“I-I’ll sort of do it. You’ll be my inspiration” you said. “Like, look at Karina. She’s a great girl, right?” you asked, and Seulgi nodded with a curt yes and nodded for you to continue. “An amazing woman. But… she has a problem hanging onto relationships. No offense. And probably, doesn't know what she’s doing wrong, like it could happen to our readers. So, my idea was that I could start dating this guy and then drive him away but only using these common mistakes like girls like Rina or our readers commit all the time. I’ll even… keep a diary of it and it will be sort of a dating how-to in reverse”

Karina smiled at you and Seulgi clapped her hands together. “What not to do. Brilliant!” 

“Yeah”

“How to lose a guy in 10 days” Seulgi said. “Loved it, go. Now Sunoo, what’s the shoe story you wanted--”

“I’m sorry, Seulgi. Ten days? Why ten days?” you asked.

Her eyebrows arched. “Well, I figured 5 days is too short and we go to press in 11, so…” she said. 

Karina and Ryujin gave you thumbs up, making you smile at them, but innerly wondering how the hell would you manage to do this in only ten days.

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

Felix Lee arrived at his office, parking his motorbike and taking off his helmet. As always, earning smiles and flirtatious looks from the ladies in the streets, but he loved the attention. 

Working as a publicity chief had its perks. You could share an office with your best friends and have an assistant that brings you lunch or whatever you want, but it also had its drawbacks like having a boss who’s riding your ass. That was Felix’s case. 

Felix got inside the building and into his office. “What’s up, Hyunjinnie?” he said.

Hyunjin looked up from his computer and smirked. “Oh, hey, Lix”

Jisung, his other best friend, got inside with a worried look. “Did you hear?”

“Hear what? About the Knicks game tomorrow? I did, and it’s pretty terrible, cause I didn’t get the tickets--”

Jisung sighed. “Not about the Knicks game. De Lauer diamonds is looking for a new ad agency and Mr. Park wants to move it aggressively”

“Yes!” Felix smiled. “Yes! This is a good day. Guys, did you know that diamonds are as common as taxis on Fifth Avenue?” he asked while taking his shirt off, and grabbing his dress shirt from the desk. The women in the office every day went crazy whenever he came in with a normal, regular shirt and changed it for a formal one. “The value is entirely sentimental… but we do have game in what we do the best. Advertising. So, my point is--” he said while buttoning his shirt up. “De Lauer owns the diamond market, meaning, if I represent them, I basically own everyone’s ass in the industry” he smiled.

Hyunjin sighed. “That’s the thing, Mr. Park already gave it to the Chaeyoung’s”

Felix’s eyes narrowed. Son Chaeyoung and Park Chaeyoung were his number 1 competitors inside the publicity business. “No way!”

“Yeah, it kind of makes sense when you have a pair of hot leggy chicks and we’re the beer and sneakers division, you know?” Hyunjin said. 

“No way, I’ll have this deal” Felix said.

Jisung and Hyunjin stepped in his way. “No, Mr. Park is on a plane right now, business meeting. He’s having dinner with the Chaeyoung’s tonight”

“Where?”

“At Yu Bar” Jisung said and Hyunjin nodded. 

“That fancy shithole? I’ll crash there and claim what’s ours guys. This will be my pitch, my account, my campaign, my baby. I make the rules now” he smirked. 

“It’s kind of hard when you have a millionaire right above your ass but we get your point bro, we’re with you” Hyunjin said with a shrug. 

“Hell yeah” Jisung smiled. 

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

After work, you and the girls prepared yourselves to set a trap for the guy you were going to use for this ‘How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days’. 

You put on your best dress and put the plan in action, heading to Yu Bar, Karina’s parents restaurant. 

“I don’t think this will work, Y/N” Karina said with a frown walking down the street.

“Of course it will work, Rina. Just watch me hook a guy with my charms, like woo him a little that will make him want to see me again and then tomorrow I’ll pull the switch and make him nuts” you explained with ease. 

“Please tell me you’re not gonna burn down his apartment or bite him, are you?” Ryujin asked. 

You laughed at her comment. “No, I’m gonna limit myself to doing everything girls do that make men run off” you shrugged. “That means being clingy, needy--”

“Touchy-feely” Ryujin added and you nodded. “Oh, call him in the middle of the night just to tell him everything you had to eat that day” she smirked devilishly. 

“What’s wrong with that?” Karina asked, making you and Ryujin stop dead in your tracks. “I’m kidding”

You got inside Yu Bar and Karina gave a wink to the man guarding the door, letting him know they had free access to eat. 

“Well, Ryujin and I will grab a couple of drinks, in the meantime, you go search for a man that could easily fall for your trap” Karina said and grabbed Ryujin’s hand, guiding her to the bar. 

You nodded and looked around. Let’s get the plan started, you smirked to yourself. 

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

Mr. Park arrived at Yu Bar with the Chaeyoung’s behind him. 

“Hello Felix. What a surprise seeing you here” he said, surprised to see the freckled blonde sitting on the table he exclusively reserved for him and the Chaeyoung’s. 

The girls behind him scowled at the intrusive blonde, and he winked at them.

“Hello, Mr. Park. How’s it going?” he smirked, standing to shake the man’s hand. “Son, Park” he nodded to them. 

“I’m great, but what are you doing here?” he asked with a shake of his head, confused at the situation.

He sat down. “Well, I’m here for the meeting. I know I wasn’t invited but I should’ve. It was my tip De Lauer was shopping for a new firm” he smirked at the girls. 

“Yes, it was. But I was thinking about who suits best within the company” Mr. Park said.

“And that’s me” Felix said confidently. 

“Felix, I know you sell blow pretty well. But these ladies sell luxury faster than anyone” He said.

The blonde sighed, irritated to hear how his boss was complimenting his worst enemies. 

“We’re here to sell diamonds, mostly women. Because let’s face it. Women love diamonds and if we can make them seem appealing to them then boom” the freckled man said. “Selling a diamond to a woman is like making her fall in love. Like talking about head-over-heels in love, his-and-her towels, let’s grow old together, L-O-V-E, love” he explained. The Chaeyoung’s were giving him a strange look. “Look, I love women. I do. I respect them, and listen to them. And that’s why I can sell myself to any woman, anytime, any day, anywhere” he said.

“Make a woman fall in love with diamonds or with you, Felix?” Son Chaeyoung asked. 

Felix was taken aback with the question. “Either way… I’m pretty confident” he said. 

“I’d like to see you prove that” Park Chaeyoung challenged.

“Oh, you would?” 

She laughed. “The agency is co-hosting a party for the De Lauers at the museum. The party is in a week from sunday. Think you can make a woman fall in love with you by then?” Park Chaeyoung asked. 

Felix’s eyes narrowed and smiled a little. “Ten days?”

“Any woman, anytime, anywhere?” Son Chaeyoung chimed in.

“Yeah well, any woman, who’s single, straight and available, yeah” he said. 

Park Chaeyoung smirked. “Then it’s settled. I’ll choose a woman from this bar. Anyone. And then you decide”

Felix turned around with a smirk. “So, who’s the lucky girl?” 

Son Chaeyoung recognized you from the Composure offices as she was friends with both Mr. Park and Kang Seulgi. “Her” she pointed at you with an evil smirk.

Felix turned around and saw you. His heart fluttered a little bit when he saw you throwing your head back in a laugh with a drink in your hands, facing your friend Karina. He smiled and nodded. “Done”

“What?”

“Done. You’re on” he nodded at Son Chaeyoung. “You both are. But here are the stakes” he specified, making Mr. Park’s eyebrows arch. “After I win this bet, the pitch is mine”

“Agreed” Son Chaeyoung said.

“Mr. Park?”

“Agreed” he said. “You come to that party with a girl that’s really in love with you, Felix, and you can make the pitch to the De Lauers.”

The Chaeyoung’s looked at each other and sighed. 

“To the De Lauers” Mr. Park said, raising a toast to the four of them. 

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

“Okay guys, this is not going as I thought it would. I charmed my way with two guys in ten minutes. The first one was gay, and the second one was married.” you sighed, dropping your ass on the stool. “Saw the fucking ring on his finger and the wallpaper on his phone”

Ryujin rubbed your arm. “You’ll find him. Don’t worry. Here’s your Manhattan” she said, handing you the drink. 

You noticed that your purse was not with you and you slapped yourself on the forehead. “Shit, I forgot my purse on the other side of the bar. I’ll be right back” you said, hopping off the stool. 

You made your way to where the purse was, and grabbed it. You were about to walk to where your friends were until a blonde, handsome, freckled, and sexy guy was standing right in front of you. Your eyes widened. 

“Hi” he said.

“Hi” you said, looking him up and down, while he did the same. “Y/N Y/L/N” you said and stretched your hand out. 

He smiled and took it. “Felix Lee” 

“Cute”

“Thank you” he said smugly.

You scoffed. “I meant your name” 

“Thank you two times”

“Unattached?” you asked. 

“Currently” he nodded, sipping his drink. 

“Likewise”

“Surprising” he said. 

“Psycho?”

“Rarely” he said and you hummed. “Interested?”

“Perhaps” you played hard to get.

“Hungry?”

“Starved actually” you said, twirling your hair with a finger.

“Leaving” he said confidently.

“Now?”

“Yep”

“Okay” you nodded. “Let me get my stuff then, Felix Lee” 

“I’ll meet you at the door” he said, and walked up to the entrance with a smile on his lips. 

You walked up to Karina and Ryujin and squealed. “Guys, I think I got one” you said.

“But he was married” Karina protested.

You laughed. “No, not him. The cute blonde who’s waiting at the door with the leather jacket” 

Ryujin peeped from just above your head and gasped. “Holy cow. He’s really cute”

“I’m gonna check if he’s a keeper. He promised he wasn’t psycho, though” you said, grabbing your purse. “I’m doing this for you. Bye guys”

You walked through the crowd until you reached Felix, who put a hand on your back and led you outside. You walked up to a car that was right by the entrance, thinking it was his until he grabbed your hand and led you to a motorcycle parked right next to it. 

You scoffed. “I… a bike?” you stammered.

“Yep. Here, I use the black one, and you the goofy-looking white helmet” he said, handing you the helmet with a smile. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You always pick up girls like this? Cause I’m telling you it is not charming at all” you said, laughing.

“Come on Y/N Y/L/N” he said, and you grabbed the helmet putting it on your head. He then let out a cute giggle and knocked on the helmet with his knuckles softly.  “Beautiful”

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

After you grabbed food, you headed to his apartment. He dropped his stuff on the kitchen table and offered to take off his jacket that was clinging to your shoulders. 

“So, I never got to ask you this but uh… what do you exactly do for a living? Cause let me tell you, this is a great apartment” you said, looking around.

“I’m in advertising” he said, putting the coat on the hanger beside the door. “I work mostly with alcoholic beverages and athletic companies, and now our big break is with jewelry companies” he said, turning around to face you.

“Huh. That’s pretty good. I love it”

“You?” he asked, grabbing two beers from the fridge. 

“I work at Composure” you said, grabbing the bottle he offered to you. 

His eyebrows raised at that. “Wow, fastest selling women's magazine in the US, that’s amazing” he smiled at you. “What do you write about? How to save a shopaholic’s life?”

You gasped. “Oh, wow. Calm down, sparky. I got a journalism degree from Columbia, thank you very much. My boss loves me and if I kiss her ass a little more, I will write about whatever the hell I want” you said proudly, sipping on your newly opened beer. 

“Like shoes- Ow” he said, his comment earning a punch. He laughed and rubbed his shoulder.

“No, smarty pants. I want to write about politics. Or… alcoholic beverages and athletic gear” you teased and he laughed. 

Felix smiled. “You’re mean. Do you bite?”

“Sometimes. I can if you want me to, freckles” you said with a glint in your eyes, that made his darken. 

He licked his lips. “Do you want to go to my room?” he asked. “You know, it’s pretty much… comfy there”

You smirked. “Yeah, let me go to the bathroom, real quick”

You walked to the bathroom and locked yourself in there, stifling your laugh. You caught this playboy-like guy who was too cocky for his own good. You dialed Ryujin’s number and looked at yourself in the mirror. 

“Are you at his apartment? I can’t believe you, Y/N!” Ryujin squealed.

“Yes, yes. I got him”

“You’re not gonna sleep with him are you?” Karina asked. 

You rolled your eyes. “No, Rina. I have self-control. Unlike other people”

Karina gasped. “That was mean. That hurt”

Meanwhile, Felix lit some candles and put them in his room, smirking at himself. 

“You have to take down notes. Remember the article” Ryujin said.

“Yeah, I know, Ryu. I gotta go. I’ll text you guys the details then. Bye” you said and pressed the red button, finishing the call and straightening up your dress. This was going to be fun. 

You got out of the bathroom and took in his room, all lit by candles while a slow R&B song was playing in the background. 

“Wow, this is impressive” you said, grabbing the beer you had left on the stand. 

He sat on the chest of drawers he had and patted the empty space. You smiled and sat down next to him, dropping your purse next to you and sipping on your beer. You two stayed in silence, just enjoying each other’s company, until you got bored of it, and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

He let you for a couple of seconds until he pulled his head back a little with a groan. “Wait, let’s not go too fast” he whispered. 

Your heart sank. He’s not as easy as I thought. Blinking several times, you nodded, fake blushing, trying to guilt-trip him into kissing you. 

You tried to take a sip from your beer but he pushed it away and kissed the breath out of you. He made you stand up, your kiss never breaking. Wrapping your arms around him, you opened your mouth and welcomed his tongue. You felt the control slipping from your fingers and pulled away.

“We’re moving too fast” you panted against his lips. 

He nodded but you kissed him again, and he followed your lead. The kiss was hungry and he grabbed your ass, making you moan a little loud against his lips. His hands dropped to your thighs, lifting you up a little and you both dropped on the bed. Felix grabbed your leg, caressing the skin there, gripping your flesh and it made you both pull away at the same time.

“Too fast” you said in unison. 

You both sat up and looked at each other. 

“We respect each other right?“ You asked.

“If you respect me, I respect you”

“Good” you said, and dropped a kiss on his lips. 

A few minutes later, your cab arrived and you walked down the street opening the door of the taxi. You heard someone whistling and you looked up, seeing Felix in his balcony, smirking at you. 

He waved at you and you waved back.

“Ah, you are already falling in love with me” he said, pushing his tongue against the inner side of his cheek.

You smiled from down the street and blew him a kiss. “I’m gonna make you wish you were dead. Poor guy”

And then you were gone, and he was back in his apartment. He turned around and bit his lip, noticing that you (purposely) forgot your purse on his chest of drawers.

“Smart girl” he said, with a nudge of his head.

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

Day 2

Felix dropped the purse on his office desk. Hyunjin and Jisung sat studying the bag, their eyes running all over the leather object.

“Have you looked inside of it?” Hyunjin asked.

He shook his head. “No, I waited to be with you so you could give me advice on how to play my next move” Felix said, sitting down on his chair.

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Dude you’re the expert with chicks here”

“I know. But you think she’ll bother if I put my hands inside her purse?” he asked, sipping on his coffee.

Hyunjin tried to grab it but ended up throwing it to the floor and all the things inside spilled on the floor. Jisung smacked the back of his head, making the elder grumble and rub the sore spot. 

“Great job, knobhead” Felix said and the three guys kneeled down to check the things inside your purse. “Wait guys” he said as he looked at a white envelope. “What’s this?” he asked, opening it and he took out two Knicks game tickets. 

His eyes widened and so did his friends’. 

“She’s so hot. I don’t even have to see her face to know she is” Hyunjin said, clenching his eyes.

“That she is. But she’s also a smart little shit. She wanted me to find them” Felix said smugly, getting up and dropping them on his desk.

Jisung’s eyebrows arched. “Felix, you guys met when she had already her purse with her”

Felix didn’t pay him attention and smirked.

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

Meanwhile, your office was full of white roses, and you gasped looking at the scene. Ryujin next to you laughed. “Okay, what did you give him? A love spell?”

“What the hell is this?” you asked. 

Karina searched the flowers for a card and found one, and read it out loud. “One hundred times more beautiful than a hundred roses. Where the fuck do you find these guys?”

You laughed and felt your heart flutter. No, wait. This was all planned. You rolled your eyes at yourself. “He works in advertising, of course he had to give me flowers with a catchy pick up line” 

Ryujin laughed. “You think?”

You gasped. “This means he found the Knicks tickets” you said. Karina gasped. “I’m mean, I know. I’ll call him”

Just before you could dial his number, your phone rang. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, Composure offices” you said, knowing it was him.

Felix put the phone on speaker and gave his friends a smug smile. “Hey, hey pretty girl. Received my flowers?”

You sighed. “I did. I got now a really embarrassing display of roses in my office” you said, rolling your eyes with a smirk on your face. 

Felix laughed. “You are welcome, I had a really good time last night” he said charmingly. “I have your bag”

“Oh, I know. I forgot it. Such a klutz” you said, your friends stifling their laughs with their hands. 

Felix sighed. “Well, you must need it back. You know, all the cash, credit cards… Knicks game tickets for tonight” he taunted. His friends gave him a thumbs up.

You fake gasped. “You are a very bad boy, Mr. Lee. You’ve been peeking through my bag! Haven’t they taught you manners?”

He scoffed. “No, absolutely not. My art director and pal Hyunjin, who’s such a dumbass, knocked it over by accident” he said and kicked Hyunjin’s leg without even looking at him.

“Ow! Yeah, I’m a dumbass, sorry” he said, wincing.

“Alright. I’m sorry, though. I’m going with someone else to the game. 

Felix smirked. “Well, not anymore. You forgot your bag by ‘accident’? You obviously wanted me to go to the game. You just didn’t know how to ask. But save the begging, pretty girl, I’ll go with you”

You gasped internally. Cocky, you mouthed to your friends. “You are so full of yourself, tell me. Does that psychobabble work with everybody?” you asked, leaning forward on your desk. 

“You tell me”

“You are so mean” Karina whispered.

You pressed your lips together, pretending to think about it. “Alright, you win, handsome. Meet me at the seventh avenue entrance. Don’t be late”

“You got it. Bye bye”

“Bye” you said and hung up the phone. 

Ryujin and Karina let their laugh out. “He’s dead” Ryujin said.

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

It was Knicks night and you and Felix were sitting very close to the court. He was in awe. 

You and Felix booed, cheered, yelled and clapped, you were both ecstatic. 

An hour later, the game was about to end, the team calling for a 20-second-time and break began. That meant that the fan cams were on. It was time for the kissing cam and you both laughed at the couples kissing. You gasped when the camera pointed at both you and Felix and laughed, looking at each other. 

You patted your cheek but he quickly grabbed your neck and planted a heavy kiss on your mouth. The crowd erupted in cheers as the kiss grew hotter and you pulled away, with a red face. He sat there licking his lips, proud of your reaction. 

The break time was finished and the game began once again. An idea popped in your head.

“Lixie, babe?” you asked with a pouty face.

He didn’t even look at you. “What-what?” he asked.

“I’m kind of thirsty, Lix” you whined. 

“Yeah okay” he said and continued cheering on the team.

You frowned and sighed. “Felix, can you get me a soda? I’m parched” you whined. 

Felix couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She wants a soda right now? Just when the game’s ending? “I’ll get it right after the game, baby” he said, glancing at you.

“I’m really thirsty” you smiled at him with a little pout and he looked at you. “I’ll get it” with a sigh, you mumbled. 

He made you stop. “No, hang on. I’ll get it” he sighed and ran quickly to the shop, up the stairs. 

Felix ran to the shop and asked for a coke. When he finally got it, he went back to the bleachers. 

“Here” he said, handing it to you and quickly stretching up his neck to see what he missed. 

You took a sip and pretended to gag. “Ugh, Felix. I forgot. I wanted a diet coke. Not regular” you whined. 

Felix looked at you and you noticed he was very irritated. He pursed his lips furiously. “I’ll- Wait a second” he said and got back to the shop, right after, the crowd started counting from 5 to 0.

When the player scored, Felix missed by a few seconds on the shop TV. Everyone cheered and he stood there, watching the TV furiously. Felix kicked an empty soda cup on the floor angrily. He had missed the most important part of the game.

Once they were out of Madison Square Garden, you grabbed onto Felix’s arm and sighed. “What an exciting game, dude” you said with a smile. “I’ve never had so much adrenaline in my body, let me tell you”

Felix sighed. “Yep, pretty good game” he said. 

“Oh, too bad you missed it” you said with a cheeky smile and stopped a cab. He bit his lips and let out a little smile. She’s lucky she’s cute, he thought.

The cab stopped and he opened the door for you. You stood watching him. “So… I’ll see you later, huh?” you asked. 

He nodded. “I hope so” 

You smiled and handed him the soda cup. He kissed you holding your waist and then when he pulled away, he winked at you. You got inside the car and closed the door. 

Felix stood there watching the cab speed off. “Nice” he said, drinking the rest of the soda.

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

Day 3

Felix was in a business meeting when his assistant peeked in and knocked. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Park. But Mr. Lee has an important call” she said with a wince.

He nodded. “Leave them a message, Yunjin please” Felix told her.

“It’s Y/N, Mr. Lee” she smiled.

He looked at Mr. Park for permission, and he sighed, nodding. “Make it quick”

Felix grabbed the phone and hit the accept call button. 

“Hello?”

“It’s me! Baby!” You squealed.

“Uh, I’m in a business meeting right now, babe. I can’t call you now. Can I call you later, though?” he offered. 

“It’s just that I miss you so much, baby-boo-boo-boo” you said with a baby voice. Ryujin and Karina were next to you and were holding onto each other, trying not to cackle.

“Well I miss you too” he said, with a smile, trying to ignore the baby voice.

“You busy tonight?” 

“Uh, I’m not. Can we catch a movie or something? You can pick if you want” he said. “The cinema on the fourth is making a retro movie night” he said.

“A movie? My choice?” you squealed.

“Yeah”

“I’m so excited! I’ll call you later then, Lixie-Boo” you said.

“Bye, hon” he said, and hung up. A little smile was playing on his lips. “I think this is working, ladies and gentlemen” he yelled and clapped his hands, making Mr. Park shake his head with a little chuckle. 

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

Movie night was on and the one you had picked was the most cringey you could find in retro-movie night: You’ve Got Mail.

You were eating popcorn and while you were enjoying the movie, you needed him to get irritated by your comments. “I always wanted a man like Tom Hanks” you said. “This is like my favorite movie of all time” you lied.

“Yeah me too” he said. You stopped eating. Shit, you thought, bad movie choice. 

Someone shushed you from behind your seats and you kept quiet. 

You bit your lip. “What are you thinking about?” you digged.

Felix forced a smile. “Movie. I’m thinking about the movie” he said, not bothering to look at you. 

You smiled and played with his hair. “Yeah but what are you thinking about?” 

He sighed, slightly enjoying the feeling of your fingers on his hair but hating the way you were trying to make conversation in the middle of You’ve Got Mail. “The movie” 

You nodded and tried to think about your next move. “Okay, but what? Your mind’s completely blank?” you asked, and he closed his eyes, letting out a ragged breath. “Who is she?” you asked, putting your popcorn down, feeling your forehead purse into a frown.

Felix looked at you. “Who’s who?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

“The girl you’re thinking about” You exclaimed.

“I can’t hear” the guy who shushed you before says.

“I’m not thinking about any girl, Y/N” he said.

You clicked your tongue. “I’ve dealt with enough liars! You can’t watch Meg Ryan and not think about another girl” you said. 

People behind you were trying to shut you up but it didn’t work.

“You wanna know what I’m thinking?” he asked in a whisper. You nodded and he sighed. “I’m thinking about… how damn beautiful you are. And how that beautiful face like yours can believe I’m thinking about another girl, while I’m here with you” he said. “And also, how damn good this movie is. So we’re going to continue watching it” 

You squealed a little bit and hugged him. “Oh, Lix, my baby” you said and kissed his face a couple of times, leaning almost on top of him. “I love sharing this with you”

“Hey! I can’t see and I can't hear” the guy behind you said.

You whirled around in your seat furiously. “If you don’t shut up, my boyfriend here will kick your ass back to where you belong” you said smugly.

“Wait, Y/N” he tried, his eyebrows furrowing in desperation.

“Oh really? Let’s see what you got, pretty boy. Outside. Now” the man said.

Felix wanted the earth to swallow him up.

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

“Oh, Felix. Poor baby” you said, grabbing his face, sitting on the floor of the cinema entrance. His face was nestled between your breasts and he sighed contently, even if he was in pain.

“Wait. Lix let’s go to a hospital” you said. The bruise on his face was getting pretty bad and purple.

He grabbed your waist. “No, no. Stay. Stay right here”

“Okay” you said.

His face was rubbing your breasts and he let out a content moan. “Yes. Just stay still” he said with a smirk.

You laughed. “You perv” 

He laughed and you grabbed his hair, lifting him from your chest. 

“You’re fine. Come on” you said, getting up, offering your hands. He took them and stood up. 

Felix smiled at you and dropped a long kiss to your lips. 

“Let’s go Rocky” you whispered. 

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

Day 4

Felix was planning a tranquil evening, to sit on his couch, watch the Knicks game and relax in his apartment with you. He decided that he was going to cook real nice for the both of you. 

A knock startled his cooking and went to open the door. 

“Come in, it’s open!” he yelled. 

You got inside and smiled at him. “Hello, Lixie-Boo” you said.

He looked at you and his eyes widened. You were wearing a pretty baby blue dress. “Wow, you look gorgeous” he said.

“Thank you, sweet pea” you squealed and dropped a kiss to his cheek. 

You looked at the table and saw the candles, the music in the background making it more nice than it already was.

You gasped. “Oh, honey. This is… too much, I love it” you said.

“Great! Dinner will be ready in five minutes. Go ahead and pour the wine” he said.

“I got you a couple of gifts” you said evilly. You opened the box you brought with you and inside laid a couple of teddy bears and a picture of you with the caption: you’re my, my, my, my lover.

His eyes widened. “Oh… yay” he said. What the hell is all this stuff? Is she quoting Taylor Swift to me?

“Here are two teddy bears. One of them says #1 lover because you are” you said pinching his cheek. “They’re called Lixie and Y/N. Oh! Like us” you said in a baby voice. “And then this picture of me, with Lover from T-Swift lyrics. Do you like it?” you asked.

Felix coughed. “Y-yeah, baby. Love’em” he lied. You kissed him and smiled. 

“You’re so sweet. I’m gonna drop these in your room, wait up” you said.

Felix sighed once you were gone, wiping his face with his hands. 

In his room, you barely contained your laughter but you tried to keep it down. Poor guy. 

The Knicks game was on the TV and was about to start. Felix put the big tray of food and opened the lid. Inside was meat with veggies on it, a very nice decoration, and you hated to say, but you were impressed. Until an idea popped in the back of your head.

You pressed your lips together and let out a fake sob. “Oh, oh this is all my fault, Lix” you whispered, putting a hand over your chest.

He sat down next to you and his eyebrows furrowed. “What happened?” he asked, grabbing your hand.

“I’m– I’m a vegetarian” you sobbed. “It’s just that animal meat makes me sad” you said, fake tears escaping your eyes. The blonde sat frozen in his seat. “It’s-- it’s dead” you said.

He let out an irritated sigh. “I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t know” he muttered, shaking his head.

“It’s okay… this was beautiful. You’re beautiful” you said, wiping your fake tears and rubbing his cheek affectionately. 

Later, you both found yourselves in a deli, eating veggie bowls, which Felix found disgusting, and making him completely miss the Knicks game. 

You finished the food (who he labeled as cow-food), and he quickly ran to the TV to catch the Knicks game, only to find out it had already finished. He let out a grunt and dropped the remote on the couch. “Fuck” he sighed.

He let himself fall on the couch and you climbed over him, kissing the life out of him. Felix let out a surprised groan and grabbed your ass. You unbuttoned his shirt, a few buttons flying away. You couldn’t admit this to anyone, but you found him exciting. 

He smirked against your lips and let his hands wander under your dress, letting his palms rest on your ass. 

You wanted to up the game. “Does little Lix want to come out and play?” you groaned in his ear. 

His eyes widened, while you kissed down his chest. “Uh, what?”

You lifted your head.

“Little Lix?” he asked, utterly confused. 

“Well, we don’t know if he’s big or little, we’re gonna find out” you squealed and resumed kissing your way down to his crotch. 

He lifted you up gently by your arm. “No, no. Baby. You can’t just… name my dick” he said with a frown.

Your eyebrows raised. “You… what are you saying? Do you want me to call it… big Lix? Cocky enough, baby?” you said in a baby voice. You almost laughed out loud at the look on his face. 

“Uh… I’m-- big Lix is not ready to come out and play” he said, cringing at his own words. 

You sighed with a smile. “Well, in that case. I better get going” you said and dropped a kiss to his lips. “Bye honey-bear”

When you were out the door, you snickered. 

“It’s getting easier by the minute” you sing-songed with an evil laugh getting inside the elevator when a hand stopped the door from closing.

Felix smiled and got inside, grabbing your waist and lifting you up against the wall of the elevator, kissing you. His tongue got inside your mouth and tangled with yours. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist. “Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked against your lips.

You breathed in and licked your lips. “Yep”

“Well, call me” he pecked your lips and then he was out of the elevator.

You grimaced once you made sure he wasn’t looking. “What the hell? This ain’t getting easier”

You needed to up your game, immediately. 

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

Day 5

The next day in Felix’s office, Hyunjin and Jisung were discussing how you were getting weirder by the time the relationship went on.

“Okay, I thought you said Y/N was a goddess after the Knicks game, little Lix” Hyunjin teased, earning a punch on the shoulder from the blonde.

He laughed. “Well, that was the good Y/N, the smart, cool and sexy woman I met. Not this crazy, evil side she’s showing” he said.

“Maybe she’s bipolar--” Jisung started.

“Muffin!” 

The three guys turned around to find you with a dog in hand.

“Y/N baby” he smiled at you, standing up and walking towards you. “We were just talking about you. You are looking absolutely gorgeous” he said.

“Oh, good things I hope, right baby boo?” you cooed. 

He pressed his lips together and nodded. 

“These are my friends! Hyunjin and Jisung!” he said, pointing behind him and they waved at you.

You gasped. “Oh Lixie told me all about you guys”

“Lixie-Boo told all about you too” Hyunjin teased the blonde, who glared at him.

“Great, well look what I just got you” you sing-songed. “I got you a puppy! His name is… guess what?” you said, clapping your hands together.

He shrugged.

“Little Lix!” you squealed.

Jisung and Hyunjin snickered behind him. 

He smiled and tried to think how the fuck he was going to survive six days more if this was going to keep up like this.

When he got home, he put Little Lix in the kitchen and put water and food ready for him. He grabbed his phone and saw his voicemail was full.

You got 17 new messages from Y/N Y/L/N.

“Oh shit” he said. 

He listened to every single one of them and he face-palmed himself. This is getting even harder than I thought , he thought.

He got inside the bathroom to wash his face and opened the cabinet. He froze when he found a lot of feminine products and he closed it, turning around to find two toothbrushes and a lot of girly stuff scattered in the bathroom. Felix grabbed his hair and almost yelled out. 

“Fucking shit”

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

Day 6

“Girls, I’m telling you. He’s not leaving me“ you said, eating from your ice cream pint. 

“Are you being clingy?” Karina asked.

You nodded. “Like a bitch, yeah. I even supplied his bathroom with girly stuff, some of them I don’t even use. Then I gifted him teddy bears and I baby talk to him. I’m whiny and needy? How is he not leaving me?” you asked.

The girls laughed and continued eating ice cream.

“Either way, I gotta think about something before tomorrow” you said.

Ryujin sat up. “Wait, why not tonight?”

“It’s Poker night with his friends” you said. “Boys night”

“You���re giving him boys night?” she asked.

“They do it every week” you shrugged.

“Before… he met… you” she said.

“Ryujin, I love you”

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

“Bunny! I’m home!” you said, startling his friends and him.

Felix turned around and his eyebrows furrowed. “Baby, what are you doing here?” he asked, sitting up and putting the blunt he was smoking, in a plate.

“I just… I figured I could stop by and kiss you a little bit, huh? Your friends don’t mind if I steal you for about… an hour or so?” you asked.

He laughed nervously. “Honey, I told you… boys night” he said.

You pretended to be offended. “You… don’t want to see me? Do you- Oh! You think I’m crazy!” you said.

Felix’s eyes widened. “I- No! I don’t think you’re crazy, baby. I just want a boys night with--” 

“Oh, I’m sure it was an excuse to hook up with other girls, and oh! I’m sure there’s one hidden here, probably in your bathroom” you fake cried. “I’m out of here, Felix” you said and walked out the door.

He followed you with Little Lix barking behind him. 

“Hey, hey, hey. What was all that?” he asked, making you turn around.

You pressed the elevator button and sighed. “What?”

“You acting like a freaking maniac” he said. 

You gasped and the elevator dinged. “Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t be with someone who thinks I’m mental. Bye, Felix” you said and the elevator doors closed but he pressed the button so they opened them again.

”No wait. Where’s the fun, cool, beautiful and sexy Y/N I knew? Huh?” Felix asked. “The one who wanted to be a serious journalist? You’re acting insane, like one second you’re up then you’re down!” he said.

You pursed your lips. “So I guess we’re over” you shrugged your shoulders with a glare.

“Fine!”

“Fine” you said and the elevator door closed. You smiled in victory and then it quickly fell. What the hell is happening? 

Back in Felix’s apartment, Jisung and Hyunjin almost tackled him. “You’re going back, apologize and get back together with her” Jisung said. “Five more days, man. And that’s it” he said.

“No, wait. Hey. You saw how she acted back there” he said.

“Yes, but if you really want the pitch, then you’re going back to her, apologize and be her little bitch for five. More. days” Hyunjin stated.

“Do you want Son and Park Chaeyoung to be comfortable in their new office? The one that should be ours?” Hyunjin digged.

“No, of course not!” Felix said. “But what do I do? What do I tell her!?”

“Couples therapy! Literally anything” Jisung said.

“Couples therapy?” Felix asked.

This was getting way out of hand. 

“Yes, now go!” Hyunjin patted his back and pushed him. 

He sprinted off running to the stairs, jumping from three to three. He got to the door just in time when you got out of the building. 

“Y/N! Y/N! Wait, baby boo” he said, cringing at his choice of words. “Forgive me, please. I don’t- I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry” he said, kneeling on the ground.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. What the hell was this guy’s problem and why the hell why was he not running away from her?

“Can you give me another chance?” he asked, puppy eyes on. 

“Haven’t you had enough?” you asked ironically, but you really meant it this time. 

“I’m willing to do anything, Y/N. Please” he said, opening his arms.

You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, making him stand up, kind of embarrassed that anyone walking down the street could see him like that. 

“Like, what do you think about… couples therapy?” he asked. 

A light bulb turned on in your brain. Couples therapy, huh?

“Oh, Felix. I know a therapist who’ll do wonders with you. When shall we start?” you said, intrigued about his request. 

He nodded. “Tomorrow. Whenever you want” he said, desperately. “Whatever it takes”

“A kiss?” you pouted. 

“Thank you, sweetheart” he said and kissed you almost making you tumble at how hard he kissed you. You had to admit, he was one hell of a kisser. “Thank you for understanding”

“Yeah, no problem, baby boo. But you’re still on probation” you said and walked away. “What the fuck did I get myself into?” you whispered to yourself.

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

Day 7

“If we’re really doing this, you’ll have to open up, Felix. You hear me?” you whined when you reached the ‘therapist’ apartment. 

“Yeah, of course” 

You knocked on the door and Karina appeared, wearing a white pajama pants and a shirt, with big ass glasses and a bun. “Y/N Y/L/N, and Felix Lee. Come in” she said with a formal voice.

Your eyebrows wiggled and tried not to laugh. You grabbed Felix’s hand and sat him down on the couch. 

“So, before we start. I wanted to ask you how you were gonna pay for this session?” she asked.

You patted Felix’s back. “Sweetie?”

“Uh, yeah. How much is it?” he asked, grabbing his wallet from his jean pocket.

“Three hundred dollars the hour” she said calmly. 

His eyes almost bulged out of his school when he heard the price that fell from Karina’s lips. Felix cleared his throat and reached for his wallet. Whatever it takes, then the pitch is yours. He handed Karina the bills and she cleared her throat.

“So, tell me, you guys. How long have you been seeing each other?” she asked.

“Seven days” you replied with a smile.

“Isn’t it too soon to be seeing a therapist?” Felix asked calmly.

You smiled at him. “Well, it isn’t a lifetime but it is--”

“It’s like a week” he said.

You fake gasped and looked at Karina. “Do you hear that tone? How can we not need a therapist when you’re snapping at me like that every goddamn second!” you said rather loudly.

Karina nodded. “How are things between you… I mean… sexually” she digged.

You laughed a little. “Oh, about that… he has a little problem” you said, winking at Karina. “If you know what I mean”

He shook his head. “No, Y/N. Wait. We haven’t had sex yet” he said. “And I don’t have a problem”

“Yes you do”

“No, no I don’t” 

“Okay, okay. Look, the one night that we even thought about having sex you called my dick little Lix, or- or big Lix” he said, turning completely to face you. “Without even seeing it!”

“I thought it was beautiful” you said, close to fake crying.

“I see, Felix” Karina said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “When was it that you first realized you were attracted to other men?”

You had to contain your laugh at this. “Oh, it… that’s serious” you agreed.

“What? No! I love women, why-- okay. No, that it’s clearly not what happened” Felix stammered irritatedly. 

“I’m hearing a lot of anger that’s been swirling inside of you for a long time, Felix” Karina said, folding her hands together. 

You gasped. “Like a rage-aholic”

“No, I’m not a rage-aholic” he shouted.

“Take a deep breath, sweetie” you said, putting your hand on his arm.

“I gotta ask you this one question” Karina said. “Are you ashamed of Y/N?”

He was taken aback by the sudden question. 

“Of course he is” you said.

“No, I’m not ashamed of you, Y/N” he said, putting a hand on your back. 

Karina cleared her throat. “Then why don’t you… take her to meet your family, for example?” she suggested. You wanted to kill her.

Felix nodded. “Yeah, let’s go do that. You can meet my whole family, let’s go to Staten Island, you can meet them” he smiled. 

“Would you like to go to Staten Island?” Karina asked you.

No! Of course not!  

“Yes” 

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

Day 8

He parked his bike in the driveway of his family house and you were greeted by his mother once you got inside of the house. 

“Oh hello, Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you!” her mother appeared with a baby in her arms. 

“ Bullshit! ” you heard from the patio.

“My dad and uncles play cards every hour of the day” Felix laughed.

“ Bullshit! ” you heard again.

“You are as pretty as Felix described you on the phone the other--”

“Mom!” Felix whined.

You laughed and shook her hand. “Well, the pleasure is mine, Ms. Lee” you said.

“ Bullshit! ”

“Sweetie!” she scolded over her shoulder. “Excuse me honey, I gotta make my husband shut up for a little bit, here” she said and handed Felix the baby he was holding, who you assumed was his cousin. 

Felix grabbed him happily and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at the sight of him holding a baby. 

“I’m gonna get him cleaned up, you go out back” he said and dropped a kiss to your lips and then he was gone. 

You took a deep breath and went out to the patio, finding who you assumed was his dad and his uncles. His mother saw you and dropped the cards on the table. “Everyone! Guys, everybody meet Y/N, our Felix’s girl!” she squealed.

His dad smiled and shook your hand. “Well, Felix described you as ‘beautiful’ but his words weren’t enough” he complimented you. 

You blushed a little and giggled. “Well thank you, Mr. Lee”

“No worries, honey” Mr. Lee winked. 

After they introduced you to the whole family, they gave you a couple of cards to play with them. 

“The game is called ‘Bullshit’ as you may have heard. And we’re just in the lightning round, sweetie, you came just in time” Mr. Lee said.

Felix suddenly came in and smiled. “Well look at this. I’m gonna beat everyone’s asses, including yours baby” he winked at you, sitting down and grabbing himself some cards. 

“I don’t really know how to play”

“Well, here’s the trick. You have to get rid of all the cards in your hand” His dad said.

You nodded and looked at your cards.

“Alright I’m gonna throw and say I have two aces. What do you say?” his dad asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at your cards in hand, noticing you had three aces, which meant he could only have one. “I say bullshit”

“What did you say?” he smiled.

“I say… bullshit!” you said and everyone around you cheered. 

After a couple of rounds where everyone except Felix was helping you out to win just to make him lose, you found yourself having fun, more than you had expected and more than the fun you’ve got this couple of months. The feeling was strange.

“Okay, I’ve got two kings”

You looked around and his family shook their heads. Felix caught them cheating and gasped.

“You all are cheating!” he said, making all of you laugh. “Baby! That’s treason!” he laughed.

You just laughed at him and showed him your cards. “Yep. But I won!”

“And that makes him have the lowest score out of all of us in Bullshit thanks to you, for the first time ever! I say we expect you to come here sooner” his mom said, standing up and drawing his score on a chalkboard. 

You laughed. “Why? Were all his other girlfriends Bullshit losers?” you asked, sipping on your drink.

“What other girlfriends? He’s the first girl he’s ever brought home” her mom said and hugged you. 

First girl he’s ever brought home? You felt special. You hated to admit it, but it was true. 

“Don’t you break his heart” she whispered with a little smile and walked away.

It’s a little too late for that now.

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

After the game, Felix offered to take you for a ride to meet the island on his bike. You accepted, and the blonde took you everywhere. For ice cream, for lunch, to walk in the park, down the port, everywhere. He even taught you how to ride his bike. You couldn’t help it but you felt the butterflies kicking your stomach everytime he smiled or looked at you. And he felt the same. He felt at peace that the fighting and craziness was over for good.

At a certain hour, it started to rain, soaking you from head to toe. You arrived at his home, you rode the bike while he was behind you.

He got you inside of the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

“Alright madam, let’s have a shower, what do you say?“ he asked and turned on the hot water.

You nodded and sat on the sink, thinking about why the hell did you accept to do this to this guy. He was perfect and so good with you. If you ever told him the truth, he’d hate you, and you’d lose him. 

“You can shower first if you want” he said, drying his hand with a towel.

You bit your lip and sighed. 

“Is everything all right?” he asked, putting his hands on your legs, his eyes finding yours. 

You smiled at him, caressing his cheek. “It’s more than okay” you said in a low voice. 

He kissed your palm and pinched your leg a little. “Then tell me what’s wrong. You don’t seem okay”

You let out a breath. “I think… when your mother hugged me today, like… she really hugged me” you said, your eyes getting teary. “For winning a game at Bullshit. Like I was a part of the family” you said, a tear flowing down your cheek. 

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed and he put a hand on your cheek. “But that’s a good thing, baby. Smile for me” he said with a little grin, poking your cheek with his pointer finger.

You smiled for him and his grew bigger. Your noses were almost touching and it confirmed for the both of you. Both bets were a huge mistake.

He brought your head closer to his and kissed your lips. You pulled away and searched for something in his eyes, something that would give you a red flag. You found just a glint and lust in his eyes. You kissed him again, opening your mouth for his tongue to come inside your mouth and sighed at the feeling. 

Felix pulled away and you lifted your hands up, so that he could take your shirt off. He complied and saw that you weren’t wearing a bra. His eyes darkened and you hopped off the counter to take his shirt too.

You dropped it to the ground and then went to unbuckle his jeans while he did the same to yours. He pushed your panties to the ground and he pushed his underwear, too.

Felix grabbed your thighs, hoisting you up, making your legs wrap around his torso and kissed you again. He got inside the shower and pressed you against the cold tiles. His mouth on yours felt heavenly, and with every brush of his tonguey you got more and more wetter by the second. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful” he whispered against your neck. He kissed a couple of hickeys on it and then came back to your mouth.

If anyone walked past the bathroom, they would’ve heard the breathy moans the two of you emitted and the slapping of skin on skin sound. Once you came and he did on your stomach, you stayed staring at each other. Guilt was in his eyes, thinking that you, a beautiful woman he had managed to fall in love with, and probably she did as well, was part of a stupid bet to get a stupid pitch. 

You dropped your forehead on his and sighed with a smile. “That was amazing, Lix. Little Lix down there wasn't so little, huh?” you joked, making him laugh out loud. 

“Well, what can I say? I’m full of surprises”  he said.

You got down and you washed each other. As his arms came around you from behind and you couldn’t help but feel like shit. 

If only he knew. 

In the meantime, Felix rested his chin on your shoulder, leaving a little peck on your skin. He closed his eyes as soon as his lips touched you, feeling the guilt and regret wash over him. 

He didn’t know how he was going to tell you, but there was one thing he knew it was certain: he didn’t deserve you. 

At least, that’s what he thought. 

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

Day 9

The ferry arrived at Manhattan and he drove his bike back to your home. He got down from the bike and walked you to the building entrance.  

“Well, this is home” you said, dropping his hand. 

He nodded and smiled at you. “Uh, Y/N? I wanted to ask you back at Staten but uh… my boss is throwing this party for the diamond account I was telling you about and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? You know… as my date?” Felix asked, clearly nervous. “As my girlfriend” he stated. 

You smiled at him and put your hand on his cheek. “Are you calling me your girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, I am” he said, sure of himself.

You pressed your lips together. “Tomorrow will be the tenth day of seeing each other.”

“I know” he said with a sigh. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow huh?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Should I dress fancy?” you asked.

 “As fancy as you want… but still fancy” he said.

You nodded. “Perfect” you pressed a kiss to his lips and when you pulled away, you hugged him. He felt so good. You didn’t want to let him go just yet, or tell him what you were doing, or him to find out via the magazine. 

As you pulled away, he kissed your head and let you go inside.

“Bye” you blew him a kiss.

“Bye” 

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

Day 10 - final day-

You barged inside Seulgi’s office with a very worried face on you. You let out a breath and sat down on the couch.

“Seulgi? I can’t- I can’t write this article” you stated.

Her eyebrows furrowed and sat down on her chair. “What? Why not? Is your computer broken or something? Figure it out”

“No, it’s not that” you said. “I just… I’ve got to know this guy. He’s amazing. He doesn't deserve this, I really like him, Seulgi. Please” you pleaded.

“Okay. Who’s the boss here?”

“You” you sighed. 

“Then you write what I tell you to write. And that means the article” she said strictly, not even bothering to look at you while she was paging down a magazine. “You’ll do the article, because you are a professional. That’s what professionals do”

“Yes I am” you whispered. 

“Great. Now go. I want the article in less than 48 hours”

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

The night fell and Felix arrived at your house. He was wearing a fancy tux, but he managed to keep it a little less formal. He took a deep breath and cracked his neck. Felix grabbed his phone and sent you a text.

Lix: I’m here xx

He blushed at the thought of you on a fancy dress. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket.

You: be right down. Wait up xx

His heart picked up speed when he heard the door of your building opening. You stood there with a yellow fancy dress with an open cut back. You did a little twirled and took a second to admire him. He was so beautiful, it hurt your eyes. 

The chauffeur from his car smiled at the interaction.

“Hey” you said timidly.

He just stared, he couldn’t believe you were his. 

“Wow, you are so beautiful” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

You blushed and ran your fingers through his hair. “You’re looking good too, sparky” you said putting your arm around his and getting inside the car.

Once you reached the museum, you could only gawk at how much diamonds were used for this party. It almost hurt your eyes. 

“Wow, okay. This wasn’t what I expected at all” you said, looking up only to find a very big, sparkly chandelier. 

Felix nodded, chuckling at your face. “You should come more often to these things with me”

You gasped and elbowed him. “What? So you can see me with a fancy dress more often?”

He shrugged. “Maybe” he teased, making you laugh.

Hyunjin and Jisung appeared wearing very formal suits and they waved at you. “Hey guys” you said.

“Oh, great. Stay with them, I’ll go grab us some champagne” he said, kissing your cheek.

You smiled at him and watched him leave while Jisung told an incredibly boring story of how he managed to get a date.

“Uh, guys. I’ll go sit by the table, there are some snacks there. If you’ll excuse me” you said, and excused yourself, really not wanting to deal with those noisy boys. 

Hyunjin and Jisung stood watching you when they felt hands on their shoulders. The Chaeyoung’s were staring at them with an evil grin on them. 

“News for you guys” Son Chaeyoung said.

They looked at each other. “We don’t want to deal with you snakes today” Jisung said. 

Park Chaeyoung scoffed. “I just wanted to let you guys know that we know that Felix cheated” she said.

Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean cheated?” he asked in a monotone voice. 

“We know he told this girl about the bet even before they started dating” Park Chaeyoung said. 

Jisung and Hyunjin looked at each other, wide-eyed. 

“We’ll go tell Mr. Park if you don’t hurry up” Son Chaeyoung said, and then, they were gone.

“Shit, we gotta do something” Jisung said.

They ran to the table you were sitting and sat down next to you, startling you mid-eating a snack. You furrowed your eyebrows at their state.

“Hey, Y/N. We know you know about the bet. Okay? And we need you to play dumb when Mr. Park asks you if you fell in love with Felix” Hyunjin said.

Your stomach dropped. A bet? What bet? You were about to ask until it dawned in you. This was all a bet. Felix made a bet, in which he had to make you fall in love with him (in which he succeeded).

“A bet?” you asked in a small voice.

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, the bet… you know, he’d get the pitch if you fell in love with him” he said.

You played dumb. “Of course” you faked a smile. Internally you were just trying to keep the tears to yourself.

Meanwhile…

Felix was heading to their table when Kang Seulgi intercepted him.

“Hello Felix. What a pleasure it is to see you” she said with a smile.

He nodded and smiled at the elderly woman. “Yeah, nice to see you too. I gotta head back to my table, there’s this beautiful woman waiting for me-- right there” he said with a smug grin and pointed at you.

Seulgi perked up and gasped. “Y/N? Oh she’s my How-To girl in Composure” she said.

“Your How-To girl?” he asked confusedly.

“Yes. Right now she’s working on an article called How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days” she said and his smile visibly dropped. You were just using him for… an article? Her laugh made him come back from his thoughts. “This poor guy she’s been pretending to date-- wait, she’s actually dating this guy trying to scare him off by making mistakes girls do when--” when she saw the face that Felix and she stopped talking, realizing he was the guy you were dating. “Oh… oh, I’m sorry” she whispered and excused herself. 

He pressed his lips together and downed his champagne glass. He saw you getting up from your chair, grabbed your purse and headed for the exit. Felix followed you, steam flying out of his ears.

When you reached the street you heard his shouting. “No, no, no. Y/N Y/L/N get back here” he said. 

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him. 

“You used me! Just to get a stupid fucking pitch! You played with my feelings, you made me believe you actually care about me” you yelled at him. 

Your words would’ve hurt him if he wasn’t angry enough about the article thing. 

“I used you? You drove me insane for that article from your stupid magazine, okay?” he said angrily. 

“You told people you could make me fall in love with you, like I’m just some random girl that needed saving, you backstabbing jerk” you said, hitting him with your purse. 

Felix stood, pressing his lips together, figuring out what to say next. “So that was what I was, huh? A stupid guinea pig you could use for your experiments?” 

“Yeah and I was just some girl you picked up from a bar because you feel bad for her, sitting all alone with a drink in her hands” you said more calmly.

He chuckled ironically. “Well, you did it. Good job. You wanted to see if you could lose a guy in 10 days, congratulations. You just lost him” he said, and turned away from you.

“No, I didn’t, Felix”

He turned back to face you.

“Because you can’t lose what you never had” you cried out. 

He watched as you turned away and called a cab. His heart was hurting so much. Felix took a shaky breath in and headed back to the party. 

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

Day 11

“Well, this wasn't what I was expecting” Seulgi said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “But it’s better” she said gladly. 

You chuckled and smiled at her. “I’m glad you like it”

“Now this is my time to free you from my leash. You can write whatever you want now” she said, putting your recently printed article in a folder. 

Your eyebrows perked up at her saying. “That means I can write like… about politics, economics, religion, or--”

“No, Y/N. Whatever you want means what Composure is about, shoes, dramas, what’s new in Oscar de La Renta’s new dresses, you get what I mean” Seulgi said, flicking her wrist at you. 

This wasn’t what you expected. Writing an article about a guy you did end up falling in love with wasn’t even worth it. In the end, Kang Seulgi had tricked you into making you write whatever she wanted. 

You nodded and sighed. “Thank you for the opportunity, Seulgi” you said slowly. She smiled at you. “And thank you for making it easier for me to turn it down” you said, heading for the door. “My resignation letter will be arriving at your mail very soon” you said and then you were out of the door, leaving Seulgi shocked to her very core. 

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

Felix was in his office, Little Lix in his arms and he let out a sigh, looking at the Knicks game he did not attend. The tickets were laying on his desk, he had planned to give them to you after the party but that did not end up well. 

A knock on his door startled him. “Hey, my man. I’ve got something for you” Hyunjin said, sitting down on a chair.

He saw it was a Composure magazine and he let out a sigh.

“I’m not gonna read that”

“No, you should” he said. Felix just shook his head and dropped Little Lix on the floor. “Okay. You win. I’ll read it to you” Hyunjin said and Felix was about to protest but he held his hands up. “ I’ve lost a guy. And I don’t know why. What went wrong? When I started writing this month’s column, I wanted to commit those certain silly dating mistakes we all commit at some time. But what I didn’t realize was that I was making the biggest mistake of my life ” he said, he lifted his eyes to watch the blonde, who was looking at the floor, with glassy eyes. “Here, read it. Trust me” he said, dropping the magazine on his desk and then he was out of his office.

He sighed and grabbed it, turning to the page where your article was. He started reading and he noticed some important lines: “ I lost the only guy I’ve ever fallen for ”; “ Best 10 days of my life ”, and one that he wasn’t expecting at all. “ This is my last article for Composure ”

His eyebrows furrowed and an idea popped in his head.

A few minutes later, he was running down Composure’s office asking everyone where the hell was your office located. He won a few glares from most of the girls but right now, he didn’t give a fuck.

He found it, and noticed it was empty. Fucking shit, Felix internally cursed. He saw a woman standing right next to her office. 

“Excuse me, Ma’m” he said.

Ryujin turned around abruptly. “Holy crap. You’re Felix”

“I know. Tell me where’s Y/N” he said urgently.

“She quit” Karina appeared from behind him. 

He turned around and noticed a familiarity with the girl.

“She’s got an interview right now, in Washington” Ryujin said.

“When?”

“Like, right now. She’s leaving right now” Ryujin said, checking her watch.

He turned to leave but not before he turned to face Karina. “You’re not a therapist aren’t you?”

She looked confused until she burst out laughing. “No, I’m not”

“Good job. You owe me 300 dollars”

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

You leaned your head on the taxi window, letting out a sigh, thinking about the events that took place that week. You knew that Composure wasn’t the best option for you since Seulgi had always done the same shit over and over again, making you think you could write about something more interesting than fashion and then taking your emotion with her. You rubbed your forehead and allowed yourself to think about Felix. There wasn’t a time that you didn’t regret what happened, but looking at the other side, he made a bet too. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you reached the Brooklyn bridge and saw someone riding a very familiar bike, wearing a very familiar helmet. Oh shit, that’s Felix. 

“Sir, please pull over” Felix yelled.

You gasped at the scene. “What-- Felix? What are you doing?” you yelled. “Sir, pull over please?”

“Are you crazy, woman? We’re in the middle of the bridge” the chauffeur said.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not feeling well, I think I’m about to puke”

“Alright, you win” he grumbled.

You got out of the car and saw him pulling the helmet over his head. “What the fuck is this Felix?” you yelled at him.

He sighed and handed you the magazine. 

“Is it true?” he asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

“Dammit, Y/N, what you wrote in the magazine. Or were you just trying to sell a magazine?”

“I meant every word, Felix” you said, your eyes getting teary. “But that doesn’t change anything, does it?”

“It does, and you’re running away” he said.

“I’m not!” You yelled out in a high-pitched voice.

“Yes, you are. To Washington” he said.

You rolled your eyes, pinching your eyebrows. “Yes, but it’s an interview. Besides, what do you care?”

Felix was taken aback by it. “What do I care? I fucking love you Y/N. But I need to be sure it’s true”

“I already told you. It’s true and I… I love you too, Felix. But--” you said-

“But what?” he asked, stepping closer to you.

“I can’t write here. I applied for a job where I know I can write about whatever the fuck I want without a bitch that tells me I need to write what it’s accord to my gender” you said, and turned away to get back to the taxi.

“Bullshit”

You stopped in your tracks. “Excuse me?”

“Bullshit. You heard me” he said, stepping closer to you. 

You couldn’t move. He reached until your noses were practically touching. He handed a couple of bills to the taxi driver and told him to send your bags back to your apartment. 

“You’re having alternate transportation from now on” he said. 

You sighed and looked at him, your eyes watery. 

“Really? Are you serious?” you asked with a broken chuckle.

“You bet I am” he said and put his hands on your face, bringing you to a passionate kiss. You melted on it and put your arms around his neck, sighing into it. You felt complete. Finally.  “I love you, so much” he said against your lips, letting his nose rub against yours.

“I love you, I love you, I love you” you mumbled, each ‘i love you’ with a kiss. 

“Okay, so are you two gonna let me drive back to the ladies apartment or what?” the taxi driver grumbled, making you two laugh.

You couldn't believe how perfect this moment was. How it all started with a bet and an article that was meant for you two to find each other. 

Fin.

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

i hope you liked it :) there are more Felix's fics coming in, i've been pretty busy

[keiizzx]

Lonely Wine

✎ Mean Neighbor!Lee Know x Lonely Afab!Reader

✎ Christmas AU, Emotional, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, 18+ MDNI! NSFW, Mutual Pining, Smut, Mistletoe Trope, Romantic Ending.

✎ 3.4k

✎ Synopsis: you find yourself feeling alone and distant, lost in your own thoughts. Your annoying neighbor, Lee Minho, crosses your path, and the exchange between you is far from pleasant. But then, to your surprise, he apologizes. As the holiday season continues, the walls between you begin to crumble, and you start to realize that even the most unexpected neighbors can bring warmth and connection when you least expect it.

A/n : hii y'all! I bring the christmas fanfic for today, hope you enjoy the story and also Merry Christmas! I hope warmth found u^^

—Bae

The air was cold, sharp against your skin as you leaned on the edge of your window, a half-empty glass of wine in your hand. Christmas Eve had always been a hollow affair for you, a reminder of what you didn’t have.

Your family wasn’t just complicated—it was fractured, splintered beyond repair. Your parents had divorced years ago, both quickly moving on to build new families, leaving you somewhere in the middle. No one outright abandoned you, but no one fought for you either. Holidays became a game of polite invitations and shallow smiles, and eventually, you stopped trying to belong anywhere.

You finished the wine faster than you intended, the warmth in your chest doing little to ease the ache. The sound of distant laughter and carols drifted in through the window, each note a cruel reminder of what this night was supposed to be.

When you realized your stock of wine was gone, you sighed and grabbed your coat. A trip to the store would be better than sitting alone with your thoughts.

The grocery store was mostly empty, its fluorescent lights buzzing softly. You wandered the aisles, the sight of festive decorations and holiday discounts doing nothing to lift your spirits. Three bottles of wine went into your basket—too much for one night, maybe, but you didn’t care.

By the time you returned to your building, your arms were aching from the weight of the bottles. You stepped into the elevator, letting out a breath as the doors closed.

But they didn’t close fast enough.

“Hold it!” a familiar voice called, and your stomach dropped as Lee Minho slid in just before the doors shut.

Of course. Out of all the people in this building, it had to be him.

Lee Minho, your annoying salty neighbor who had been a thorn of your peacefull life in this building, you're not sure how and when it started, but every encounter with him always feels like a war somehow, well its maybe begin from the very first you moved in to this building.

Flashback

The new apartment smelled like fresh paint and floor polish. You sat on your worn couch, staring at the boxes still stacked in chaotic clusters, a sigh escaping your lips. Starting over wasn’t easy. The stress of work and the pressures of life had already begun weighing down on you, but you were determined to make this new chapter as bright as possible.

After a long debate, you decided to bake cookies for your neighbors as a peace offering—a way to establish yourself in the building. A sense of community might help ease the loneliness. Armed with a plate of warm cookies, you stepped out of your door, knocking at the unit beside yours.

It swung open sharply.

The man who stood before you was breathtakingly gorgeous, but his expression was nothing short of murderous. His dark, sharp eyes narrowed in annoyance, his jawline so sharp you could swear it could cut glass.

“Yes?” His voice was flat, unwelcoming.

“Oh, hi! I just moved in next door. I made cookies and thought I’d introduce myself!” you said, holding the plate out with a smile.

He stared at the cookies like they were contaminated.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” His tone was curt. Without another word, he shut the door.

You blinked, stunned. What the hell was that?

Or that one time when he complained, saying that you're being loud just 3 days right after you moved in.

The next few days after moving in filled with unpacking, arranging furniture, and trying to settle into your new place. It was exhausting, and by the weekend, you decided to reward yourself with a relaxing night—some wine, your favorite playlist, and a bubble bath.

The music was soft, barely above a whisper, but as you swayed along while unpacking some remaining boxes, a sudden knock startled you. It wasn’t just a polite tap; it was loud, deliberate, and aggressive.

You frowned as you opened the door, only to find yourself face-to-face with your grumpy neighbor. Lee Minho stood there, arms crossed, his dark eyes glaring down at you like you were the source of all his problems.

“Seriously?” he snapped.

“What?” you asked, taken aback.

“The music,” he said. “Some of us are trying to sleep, and your constant noise is making it impossible.”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s barely 9 PM.”

“And? Some people have early mornings,” he replied. “Unlike you, apparently.”

You folded your arms. “Excuse me, but I’m not exactly throwing a party over here. The music is quiet enough that I can barely hear it myself. Maybe the problem isn’t me; maybe it’s you.”

His jaw tightened. “Oh, so now I’m the problem?”

“Kind of, yeah,” you shot back. “Maybe you should consider moving to a remote cabin in the woods if you hate hearing other people so much.”

The tension between you crackled like static. He exhaled sharply, clearly deciding you weren’t worth more of his time.

“Whatever,” he muttered. “Just keep it down.”

With that, he turned on his heel and stalked back to his apartment, leaving you fuming in the doorway.

You think that was the moment the gloves came off. From then on, the two of you clashed at every opportunity—snarky comments in the elevator, icy glares in the hallway, and a mounting frustration that turned into outright hostility.

Back to present time, he leaned casually against the cold wall of the elevator, his sharp eyes scanning the bottles in your arms. His smirk was almost immediate.

“Three bottles?” he quipped, tilting his head. “For one person? What is this, a pity party?”

You didn’t respond, staring straight ahead and hoping he’d shut up.

But Minho wasn’t done. “What? Are you that lonely? Not even a family to spend Christmas with?”

His words hit like a gut punch, sharp and uncalled for. Your fingers tightened around the bag handles as you turned to glare at him.

“Yeah, keep talking, Lee. I’m sure your perfect little life makes all of this just so much better,” you shot back, your voice trembling but laced with bitterness.

Minho blinked, taken aback. He had expected you to snap back, to fight him with the same sarcastic edge you always did. Instead, he saw the hurt in your eyes, the raw emotion you’d been trying so hard to hide. His stomach twisted in regret, realizing too late that he had pushed the wrong button this time. The smug expression he wore faltered, guilt creeping in as he watched you turn away right after the elevator door opened.

Once inside your apartment, the weight of his words finally crashed down on you. You set the bottles on the counter, your hands trembling.

Not even a family.

It wasn’t just an insult—it was the truth. Your parents had their own lives, their own families, and you were nothing more than a reminder of their failed marriage. Christmas had become a painful routine: fake smiles, awkward dinners, and feeling like an outsider in both of their homes. This year, you hadn’t even bothered to show up.

Tears welled in your eyes as you uncorked one of the bottles. The first sip burned your throat, but you didn’t stop. With each gulp, you tried to drown the ache, to silence the doubts and regrets swirling in your mind.

But the wine didn’t help. Instead, it magnified everything.

The tears spilled over, hot and relentless, as the weight of the night pressed harder on you. You sank onto the couch, clutching the bottle like it was your lifeline. The sound of distant carols and laughter seeped in through the thin walls, each note a cruel reminder of what you didn’t have.

A knock at the door made you freeze.

“Who’s there?” you called, your voice hoarse.

“It’s me.”

Minho.

Your chest tightened. The last person you wanted to see right now was him.

“Go away!” you shouted, wiping at your tear-streaked face.

But he didn’t leave.

“I need to apologize,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You clenched your jaw, anger and humiliation swirling inside you. “I don’t need your pity, Minho. Just leave me alone.”

But his voice came again, insistent. “Please. I shouldn’t have said that. It was out of line.”

Something about the raw sincerity in his tone gave you pause. Slowly, you stood and walked to the door, hesitating before unlocking it.

When you opened it, Minho was leaning against the frame, his usual smirk replaced by something almost apologetic. His eyes flickered to your puffy, tear-streaked face, and his jaw tightened.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You crossed your arms, trying to keep your voice steady. “Why do you care?”

Minho hesitated, his gaze softening. “Because I know what it’s like to be alone on Christmas.”

The admission caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stared at him.

“I’m serious,” he added, his voice quieter now. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I was being an ass, and—"

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache. Before you knew it, you were crying again, the weight of the evening too much to hold back.

Minho stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. “—Hey,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned into him. He hesitated for only a moment before wrapping his arms around you, holding you tightly. The warmth of his embrace broke something inside you, and you clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping you afloat.

Minho held you close, his arms steady and sure, like he was the only anchor keeping you from falling apart. The quiet between you was heavy but not uncomfortable; his presence alone was enough to steady your trembling breaths. His hand moved gently up and down your back, offering a kind of comfort you hadn’t realized you craved.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into his chest, your voice muffled.

“For what?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“For being a mess.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes softened as they searched yours, and for the first time, you saw something other than irritation or smugness—something tender.

“You’re not a mess,” he murmured. “You’re human.”

The sincerity in his voice made your throat tighten, and before you could think twice, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his shoulder, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne.

“Come on,” he said gently, his hands steadying you as he guided you toward the couch. “Sit down. Let me help.”

He left briefly, and you heard the soft clink of glasses. When he returned, he handed you a glass of water and a blanket, sitting beside you with a closeness that felt intentional.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said, your voice still fragile.

“I wanted to.” His reply was simple, but his tone carried weight.

The room was quiet as you sipped the water, his eyes never leaving you. The soft glow of the Christmas lights from your small tree cast warm shadows across his face, making him look softer, more vulnerable.

“You’re different tonight,” you said softly, daring to glance at him.

His lips twitched, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners. “So are you.”

The silence stretched again, but this time it was charged, buzzing with something unspoken.

“Minho,” you began, your voice hesitant, but he interrupted you by reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment too long, making heat creeping to your cheeks, redish hue appear within a second.

“You deserve better than this,” he said quietly.

You blinked at him, startled. “What do you mean?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely at your apartment, the wine bottles on the counter, the loneliness hanging in the air. “Being alone on Christmas. Feeling like you don’t have anyone. You deserve someone who cares.”

The vulnerability in his voice stunned you.

“Do you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Care, I mean?”

His eyes darkened slightly as they locked onto yours. “More than I should.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The space between you seemed to shrink as the tension thickened. He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice low, his gaze flickering to your lips.

But you didn’t want him to stop.

Instead of answering, you leaned forward, closing the gap between you. Your lips met his in a kiss that was hesitant at first, testing the waters, but quickly deepened as you both gave in to the pull that had been simmering between you for weeks.

Minho’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as you shifted onto his lap. His lips were soft but insistent, exploring yours with a passion that sent a shiver down your spine. Your fingers tangled in his hair, eliciting a low sound from him that made your stomach flip.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his breath warm against your lips as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded, your heart pounding. “Yes.”

He kissed you again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every second. He stood, carrying you effortlessly toward your bedroom, his movements careful and intentional.

Once inside, he laid you gently on the bed, his hands brushing over your skin like he was memorizing every inch of you. The way he looked at you—like you were something precious—made your chest tighten.

His touch was both tender and consuming, each kiss and caress unraveling the stress and pain that had been weighing you down for so long. The intimacy of it all made your heart ache in the best way.

It wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was about the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like it was sacred, the way he made you feel seen, cherished.

His lips moved to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You shivered, your body responding to his touch even before you could think. Minho’s hands caressed the curves of your body, each movement slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every inch of you. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting something inside of you that had been dormant for far too long.

"Minho..." You whispered his name, your voice trembling as your fingers slid to the waistband of his pants, grabing his clothed cock making him groan from the contact.

"Fuck, Princess."

He kissed you again, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that made your pulse spike. You felt his body pressing against yours, his muscles flexing as he leaned into you. His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, his hands sliding down your sides, pulling you closer to him until you could feel the heat of his body, hands trailing to tug on your sweater, getting rid of it in a swift motion, leaving you in your black lacy bra.

When he pulled away for just a second, his dark eyes searched yours, his chest rising and falling with each breath. "You're so beautiful” he said, his voice low and raspy, full of an almost dangerous edge.

He squeze your tits from outside of your bra, your body aching for him in a way you couldn’t deny. "Minh, please.”

With a growl, he kissed you again, his hands rough as they worked quickly to remove the last remnants of your clothes. You felt the heat of his skin against yours, his fingertips trailing down the curve of your spine before they slid to your hips, pulling you closer as his mouth moved over your collarbone, his kisses becoming more desperate.

Every kiss he gave, every movement of his hands, felt like it was igniting something inside of you, a need that you hadn’t realized had been building up for so long. You moaned softly, your hands running over his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath your fingertips.

He responded with a groan of his own, his mouth returning to yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. The air between you grew thick with desire, the tension so palpable you could hardly breathe. His hands moved to your back, gently pushing you back onto the bed, his body following you, never breaking the connection.

As he hovered over you, his lips brushing against your ear, he whispered, “I want you, all of you.”

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks as his words sank in, the meaning behind them making your heart race even faster. “Then take me,” you responded, your voice low and demanding, feeling a surge of confidence you hadn’t known you had.

Without another word, Minho moved over you, his hands and lips tracing the line of your body with a sense of urgency, like he couldn’t wait any longer. He drag his waist band You felt the pressure of his body against yours, he run his heavy cock along your folds, squelching sound coming from the contact signing how wet you are already, "Holly fuck baby, do you hear that? Mmh all wet for me" he said, still teasing your drench cunt. The heat between you both becoming almost unbearable.

Minho finally align his tip to your enterance, pushing it in to your clenching hole, earning a trail of moan from both of you.

"Ahh minhh," Your fingers dug into his back, urging him on as you kissed him with the same urgency, your body moving against his in rhythm.

His movements grew faster, more desperate, as he sought to claim you in the way that only he could. You could feel every inch of him as he slid deeper, the sensation of him filling you making you gasp with pleasure. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as your body trembled beneath him.

"Minho mmh," his name slipped from your lips in a soft, breathless cry, and the sound of it seemed to drive him wild. He growled low in his throat, his hips snapping against yours with a relentless intensity. You met him with every thrust, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control, the pleasure building, escalating with each movement.

"Minho... fuckh you're gonna make me cumhh," you gasped, the heat of your bodies colliding with an intensity that took your breath away.

He groaned, his name slipping from your lips in a way that made his pulse quicken. The sound of your voice, the way you were calling out for him, drove him to the edge. He leaned down, kissing you deeply, his tongue claiming yours in a dance that matched the rhythm of your bodies.

"Cum for me kitten, cum" he said, hips pistoning to hit the certain spot that makes you see the stars.

As the pleasure built to an unbearable peak, you felt the tension inside of you snap, "Minhh ahh FUCK," your body convulsing in waves of ecstasy.

"Fuck, fuck fuck shit baby s'goodh mmhh" Minho followed you over the edge, his body trembling as he gave in to the moment, his own release consuming him.

You both lay there, breathless and tangled in each other's arms, your bodies still pressed together, the warmth of his skin against yours grounding you in the reality of the moment. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

Minho’s hand moved to your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you gently, the softness of the kiss in stark contrast to the fiery intensity of what had just happened.

“I care about you,” he murmured, his lips brushing over yours once more. “More than you know.”

You looked up at him, the vulnerability in your chest now replaced with something deeper, something stronger. You smiled softly, your hands running over his back, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

"I care about you too," you whispered, your voice full of quiet certainty.

And as the two of you lay together, tangled in the aftermath, you realized that this wasn’t just a night of passion. It was a turning point—one that would change everything between you. It was the beginning of something real, something lasting, and for the first time in a long time, you felt at home.

Make a brief synopsis for this story

[keiizzx]

Breaking Down Walls

✎ CollegeBand!Bang Chan x nerdyAfab!Reader

✎ Nerdy College AU, Emotional, strangers to Lovers, 18+ MDNI! NSFW, Slight breeding Kink and bulge kink, creampie, cunilingus.

✎ 5,9k

✎ Synopsis: Bang Chan, the campus heartthrob, reluctantly seeks help from Y/N, a no-nonsense tutor who doesn’t trust boys like him. As late-night study sessions turn into something more, their differences blur, and unexpected feelings emerge, challenging both their walls.

A/n : hii guyss, another Chan X Nerdy again loll, i just love this trope so muchh! Enjoyy and please don't mind the typo or the grammatical error^^

— Bae

You stared at the email on your laptop screen, a sinking feeling pooling in your stomach.

Dear Y/n,

Professor Lee has recommended you for a special tutoring assignment. The student, Christopher Bang, has been struggling with his coursework and could use your expertise. We believe you are the right person for this. Thank you for your cooperation.

Best,

Academic Support Team

You groaned audibly and smacked your forehead against your desk. Christopher Bang. Everyone on campus called him “Bang Chan,” the lead singer of a campus-famous band. He was the kind of guy who was perpetually surrounded by a sea of admirers, always with an easy grin and a cocky confidence that screamed trouble.

You didn’t have time for trouble.

When Professor Lee mentioned this tutoring opportunity during class, you thought it’d be for someone serious. Someone who genuinely wanted help—not a guy who probably spent more time flirting than studying.

Still, you couldn’t exactly back out now. The professor had personally vouched for you. Besides, you needed the extra credit this gig offered. So, with a deep sigh and a firm resolution to keep things strictly professional, you emailed Chan back to arrange your first meeting.

"Tuesday, 4 PM. Library. Be on time."

It was Tuesday at 4:17 PM, and you were tapping your pen against the library table, glaring at the clock.

Of course, he’s late.

You had your laptop open, notes prepared, and a coffee you’d already drained. The quiet hum of the library did nothing to calm your irritation.

Just as you were about to send him a passive-aggressive follow-up email, you heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey! Sorry, sorry—I got caught up!”

You looked up to see him. Bang Chan, in the flesh. His dark hair was slightly messy, as if he’d just rolled out of bed, and his leather jacket was slung carelessly over his shoulder. He looked every bit the campus heartthrob you’d expected, complete with that infuriatingly charming smile.

“You’re late,” you said flatly, refusing to return his smile.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Guilty as charged. Traffic on the way here was brutal.”

“This is a walking campus,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned, unbothered by your sarcasm. “Touché.”

You sighed and motioned for him to sit down. “Let’s get started. I assume you know why you’re here.”

“Enlighten me.” He plopped down across from you, leaning back in the chair with an air of relaxed confidence.

You slid a piece of paper across the table. “Your midterm grades. Let’s just say they’re not exactly... stellar.”

Chan winced as he glanced at the sheet. “Yikes.”

“Yikes indeed,” you said dryly. “If you want to pass this course, you need to take this seriously. No distractions, no excuses.”

“Got it. Serious. No distractions.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you with those annoyingly pretty eyes. “But just to clarify—you’re not a distraction, right?”

Your jaw tightened, and you rolled your eyes. “We’re not here to play games, Bang.”

“Call me Chan,” he said with a wink.

You ignored him and opened your laptop. “Let’s start with last week’s lecture material.”

Despite your initial assumptions, Chan actually seemed... attentive. He took notes, asked questions, and even admitted when he didn’t understand something.

“Wait, so this formula—does it only work for linear functions, or can it apply to quadratic ones too?” he asked, frowning at his notebook.

You blinked. That was actually a decent question. “It’s primarily for linear functions, but there are variations you can use for quadratic ones. Want me to show you?”

“Please.”

As you explained, you couldn’t help but notice how focused he was. His pen tapped lightly against the notebook, and his brow furrowed in concentration. He even nodded along occasionally, muttering things like, “Okay, that makes sense now.”

It was... unexpected.

“So, do you actually want to pass this course, or are you just here because your professor made you?” you asked after a while, unable to hide your curiosity.

Chan looked up, surprised by the question. Then he smiled—this time, it wasn’t the cocky grin you’d seen earlier. It was softer, almost sheepish.

“I mean, yeah. I’ve got a lot on my plate, but I don’t want to fail. Music’s my thing, sure, but I don’t want to let my grades tank either.”

Something about his honesty caught you off guard. Maybe he wasn’t as shallow as you’d assumed.

“Well,” you said, clearing your throat, “if you keep this up, you might actually pass.”

He smirked, the cockiness returning. “Is that a compliment, tutor?”

“Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, trying—and failing—not to smile.

--

The next few sessions followed a similar pattern. You’d meet in the library, Chan would inevitably charm his way through your carefully constructed defenses, and you’d catch yourself noticing more than his academic progress.

It was frustrating.

“Okay, I think I’ve got this,” Chan said one evening, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. “All thanks to my amazing tutor.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the warmth rising to your cheeks. “Flattery doesn’t get you bonus points.”

“Good thing I’m not doing it for points.”

Your pen paused mid-sentence. His voice had dipped slightly, teasing, but there was something about the way he said it—soft and genuine—that made your chest tighten.

“Focus, Chan,” you muttered, flipping to the next page of notes.

“Right. Focus,” he echoed, but you caught the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

---

The tension reached a boiling point during one particularly late session. The library was practically deserted, save for the two of you tucked away in a quiet corner.

“Okay, last problem,” you said, sliding your notebook toward him. “Solve this, and we’re done for tonight.”

Chan groaned but picked up his pen. You leaned back, watching as his brows furrowed in concentration. He tapped the pen against his lips—a habit you’d noticed—and you quickly averted your gaze, pretending to check your phone.

“How’d I do?” he asked, sliding the notebook back to you.

You scanned his work, nodding slowly. “Not bad. You’re actually starting to get the hang of this.”

“Wow. Another compliment?” he teased, leaning closer. “You’re spoiling me, tutor.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Don’t get used to it.”

But then, as you reached for your notebook, your fingers brushed against his. It was a brief, almost insignificant touch, but it sent a jolt through you.

You glanced up, and Chan was already looking at you, his eyes searching yours.

The air shifted.

For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in that small, quiet corner of the library.

“You know,” he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “you’re a lot more fun to be around than you let on.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. “Chan—”

“Relax,” he said, leaning back with a playful grin. “I’m just messing with you. Unless... you don’t want me to stop.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks betrayed you, burning with heat. “Goodnight, Chan.”

As you packed up your things and left, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted—something you weren’t quite ready to face yet.

---

The shift came unexpectedly a week later, during a particularly bad storm. You’d just finished your last class of the day when your phone buzzed.

Chan: “Library’s closed. Raincheck?”

You sighed, staring out the window at the torrential downpour. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to stay in, but something about the thought of Chan struggling with the material alone bothered you. Before you could overthink it, you replied:

You: “Come to my dorm. Bring your notes.”

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at your door.

“Hey,” Chan said, slightly breathless. His hair was damp from the rain, droplets clinging to his leather jacket.

“You look like a wet puppy,” you teased, stepping aside to let him in.

“And you’re as welcoming as ever,” he shot back, but there was no malice in his tone—just the easy, teasing warmth you’d come to associate with him.

As the session went on, you noticed Chan seemed... off. He was quieter than usual, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more subdued.

“You okay?” you asked finally, setting your notebook aside.

He hesitated, then sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “It’s just... a lot. The band, school, everything. Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. For all his confidence, it was moments like these that reminded you he wasn’t as invincible as he seemed.

“You’re doing fine,” you said softly, surprising yourself with the sincerity in your tone. “You just need to give yourself some credit.”

Chan looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the unspoken tension between you thickening.

“Thanks,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. “You’re doing the work. I’m just here to guide you.”

Chan gave you a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Still... It’s nice to hear. Sometimes, it feels like everyone only sees what they want to see, you know?”

You nodded, understanding more than you cared to admit. “Yeah. People look at me and think, ‘nerdy girl who has her life together.’ But they don’t see the rest—the doubts, the late nights wondering if I’m good enough, or if I’ll ever be more than just... this.”

Chan tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face. “Why would you think that? You’re... incredible. Smart, focused, driven—”

“Boring,” you interrupted with a bitter laugh.

“No.” His tone was firm, and the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. “You’re anything but boring.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, pressing against your chest.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, you looked away, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your notebook. “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying it because... well, that’s what guys like you do.”

“Guys like me?” Chan repeated, his voice laced with curiosity.

“You know.” You waved a hand vaguely. “The popular, charismatic type. Always knowing exactly what to say to get what you want.”

His expression softened, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You’ve got me all wrong.”

You glanced at him, skepticism evident in your eyes. “Do I?”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “You think I have it all figured out, but most days, I’m just trying to keep my head above water. And if I seem like I know what to say, it’s only because I’ve spent my whole life trying to make people happy. It’s exhausting.”

His honesty caught you off guard, and for the first time, you saw him—really saw him—as more than just the confident, untouchable guy everyone adored.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted quietly.

“Not many people do.” He smiled faintly. “But I feel like... I can be real with you. Like I don’t have to put on a show.”

Something shifted in your chest, a warmth spreading through you that you hadn’t expected.

“Same,” you murmured. “I don’t know why, but... you make me feel like I can let my guard down, too. It’s scary.”

“Why?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Because... I’ve spent so long convincing myself that people like you and me don’t mix.”

Chan reached out then, his hand covering yours. The gesture was gentle, tentative, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

“Maybe we’re not so different,” he said softly. “And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

You looked at him, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed against the back of your hand.

“Chan—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in, his face inches from yours. His eyes searched yours, asking a silent question.

When you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was hesitant at first—testing the waters—but quickly deepened as you responded.

Your hands moved almost instinctively, one tangling in his damp hair while the other rested against his chest. His heart was racing, beating in time with yours as the kiss grew hungrier.

Chan pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “Is this okay?” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips.

“Yes,” you murmured, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips found yours again, more urgent this time, and you felt yourself melting into him.

The books and papers scattered across the table were long forgotten as he pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist, anchoring you to him.

The storm outside raged on, but inside, everything felt still—like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your lips, his voice raw with emotion.

Your heart swelled at his words, and you found yourself smiling despite the heat of the moment. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Chan chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin as he pressed kisses along your jawline, trailing down to the sensitive spot just below your ear, a shiver ran through you, and you tightened your grip on him, pulling him impossibly closer, for the first time, you let yourself stop overthinking. You stopped doubting his intentions, stopped worrying about what this meant. In that moment, it was just you and him, tangled together in a whirlwind of affection and desire, and it felt... right.

The intensity between you grew, as the room seemed to shrink, leaving just the two of you in your shared bubble. Chan's hands trailed gently along your waist, his touch firm but careful, like he was afraid you might dissapear if he pressed too hard.

"Wait," you murmured suddenly, pulling back slightly.

Chan froze immediately, his hands dropping to his sides, his breathing was ragged, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. "What's wrong?" He asked softly, concern flickering in his eyes.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "I just... i need to know this isn't just a game for you."

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by your question. "What? No. It's not a game. Why would you think that?"

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "Because guys like you—"

"Stop saying that," he interupted, his tone gentle but firm, he gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushed lightly in your cheek "I'm not some stereotype, neither are you. I know i've got reputation but that's not who i am—not when im with you."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. Slowly, you looked up, meeting his gaze. There was no hint of the cocky playfulness that he usually do. Instead, his eyes were full of something deeper, Something real.

"I like you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not just for this. For everything. The way you so passionate about what you do, the way you don't take anyone's crap, the way you challenge me to better."

Your chest tightened at his confession, a warmth spreading through you that felt both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I like you, too," you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, seeing him in that vulnerable state make your heart weak.

Chan's lips curved into a soft smile. "Good. Then let me prove it to you."

Before you could even respond, he kissed you again—this time slower, more deliberate. It wasn't just about the heat or the tension, it was about connection, it was about trust.

As the kiss deepened, you found yourself letting go of every lingering doubt. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he responded by wraping his arms securely around your waist.

The storm outside seemed to mirror the intensity between you, thunder rumbling in the distance as the rain pounded against the window.

Chan's hands slip up your sides, his touch leaving a trail of heat in it's wake. His lips moved from yours to your neck, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses along your skin, sucking the skin under your colarbone untill it turn purple, marking you as his.

"Chan," you breathed, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own heartbeat. he reached for the hem of your sweater, his hands firm as he yanked it off with sudden force, sending it flying across the room. The fabric brushed your skin before it landed, discarded in the corner.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire but still full of that same tenderness "Tell me if it's too much," he said, his voice husky but laced with care.

"It's not," you assured him, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Its perfect."

The words seems to spur him on, and he captured your lips again, his kisses grow hungry.

Before you knew it, you were pressed against the edge of the desk, the paper and books scattered around the desk now laying on the floor. He trail kisses from your neck down to your clothed breasts, his fingers brushing against the plush skin, squeezing your tits with his big hands.

Your breath hitched at the contact, and he paused, his gaze meeting yours. "Is this okay?" He asked again, his voice steady despite the beat between you.

"Yes," you whispered, your cheek flushing.

He continue to assault your tits, yanking the bra off to suck on your right nipple, making you let out a loud moan from the feeling of his warm tongue swirling around your perked nipple, he let go of your right nipple to lick and play with your other nipple, giving it the same service, making you squeze his shoulder from the sensation.

His hand trail your curve and gripping your waist, he let go of your nipple with a pop, he smilled—a soft, almost shy smile that made your heart flutter— he leaned in to kiss you again.

His hands were still on your waist, his grip firm as he guided you to stand, before you could react, he was lifting you effortlesly, the next thing you knew, you were perched on the edge of the desk the cool surface hitting the back of your thigh sending a shiver down your spine.

He stepped closer, his breath hot against your ear as his hands brushed the side of your body, pulling you in with a controlled intensity. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, lips still attached to yours— his tongue slipped in to your mouth—guiding you closer until you were flush against him, the proximity sending a wave of heat through you.

He pulled back slightly from the kiss, "Look at me," he murmured, his voice low and commanding but tinged with something softer, something you couldn't quite place. You met his gaze, your breath hitching as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Spread your leg for me baby."

Chan’s eyes flickered with something dark and unreadable as he waited, giving you a moment to decide. The tension in the air was almost unbearable, and the quiet hum of the room felt louder than anything.

You could feel the heat between you two growing, the closeness undeniable as his fingers lightly traced the inside of your thighs, his touch a contrast to the urgency in his eyes. Slowly, you shifted, obeying the unspoken command, spreading your legs just enough for him to move closer.

He leaned in, his breath fanning over your lips, but he didn’t kiss you right away. Instead, his hand found its way to your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his, searching your eyes for something—permission, reassurance, understanding. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, his gaze softening for a brief moment.

“You’re sure?” His voice was barely a whisper, the weight of his question settling between you, the intensity in his eyes matching the tension in your body. His hand was still on your thigh, but there was something so much deeper in his touch, as if he was waiting for you to guide him, to tell him you were ready.

You nodded, your voice caught in your throat. You didn’t need words anymore. The pull between you two was magnetic, and you knew that despite the hesitation in your chest, there was no turning back.

He smiled softly, his lips brushing against yours for a brief moment, the kiss slow, tender, before his lips parted from yours, trailing down to your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers through you. As his hands slid further up your body, his movements were deliberate, almost teasing, drawing out the anticipation.

He move his hand to cupped your aching core, "So wet already, hm? So eager aren't we?" Your heart pounded louder now, the room seeming to close in around you. Every touch, every breath felt amplified as you finally let yourself sink into the moment, unable to resist the pull of everything that had been building between you.

He paused again, his gaze meeting yours, that soft, unspoken understanding passing between you two. And then, as if to confirm the depth of what was happening, he murmured, “I’ve wanted this... wanted you... for so long, you have no idea what you've done to me" he said with a hoarsh groan falling from his lips, while his hand still drawing small sircle around your bundle of nerve making you squirm and moaning mess for him.

"Mmh chan, please." You were not even sure what you were begging for, but you just need him to ruin you into a complete mess with his touch.

He chuckled, low and deep, a sound that sent shivers down your spine making the wet spot on your panties even more visible.

Chan didn't stop swirling your clit watching you squirming under his touch, chasing your pleasure like a cat in a heat.

"Sshh sshh, patient kitten, patient." He said, stopping his finger movement on you, leaving you whining in the lost of contact. But not too long after, Chan lowered his height, pushing your knees to spread your leg even wider for him, displaying your damp panties.

You moan to the sight, him kneeling between your leg, spreading you open like that was never on your bingo card. Chan look up to you, drawing a small sircle on your inner thigh, asking for your consent once again, you nodded eagerly, you already so wet it literally drenched. "Please, Chan" you whine, feeling so desperate for his touch.

He chuckled, seeing you so desperate like this is so cute but also turning him on, Chan hook his finger to move your drenched panties to the side, displaying your glistening pussy clenching around nothing. He mutter "Fuck—" from the sight, "You're leaking baby, holy shit" your pussy is so wet—drench even— he bet he could slide right in right then and there, but he didn't want to rush, he wants to take this moment slowly, savoring every inch of your body, worshiping it, he wants to make love to you.

He began to run his finger up and down your slit, teasing the clit with his thumb, brushing it slowly making squelching noise from how wet you were. "You hear that baby?" He said, looking up to watch your fucked out expression, lips swollen from how much you bite it to muffle your sound, eyes looking down at him, you look so pretty like this—he thought.

Seeing you enjoying his action, Bang Chan started to get bold, he lick a fat stripe along your fold making you let out the most pornographic sound that you don't even know you could. "Ahhh Chanh fuck" eyes rolling back to the back of your head, the feeling of his warm tongue on your pussy is top notch, you never feel this good before. He continue his action, licking your cunt skillfully leaving you breathy and a moaning mess, hand fall to his head, gripping his hair for the overwhelming pleasure, that sent a shiver down his spine, the sound that u made is enough to make him rock hard and trying so hard not to bust in his pants.

"Fuck baby, keep moaning my name like that mmhh you taste so sweet" he said while giving your clit a kitten lick, making you feel a knot bubbling in your lower belly, a strange feeling that you've never experience before.

Your moan getting louder in each flick of his tongue, Chan knew that you were so close, he try to elevate the pleasure, he insert 2 finger into your hole, making you scream and tug his hair harder, the painfull stings on his scalp sending a rush right in to his throbing cock making him moan onto your pussy, the humm create a buzz who made you clench on his digit, making the knot inside your belly tighten, you are so close.

"Chanh i–i nghh fuck" the words die in your throat, he chuckle, quicken his finger pace, pumping his finger into you faster, curling it in the right spot where you can see the star.

"Cum princess, let go, cum on my mouth like a good girl you are" he keep hitting that certain spot with an unbelievably quick pace, making you break and cum on his mouth, your orgasm washes over like a tsunami, leaving you breathless from the intense orgasm you just had.

Chan sit up from his position, licking his lips clean, your wetness spreading all over his chin, the sight is blissful making you blush so hard, heat rushing up to your cheeks seeing him covered in your cum.

His smirk grew wider as he leaned in, his fingers sliding down to your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “You’re blushing, darling,” he teased, his voice low and smooth, dripping with mischief. “Did I make you shy, or was it the way you screamed my name?”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words sending a wave of heat rushing through your entire body. You tried to look away, but he caught you, gently pressing his forehead to yours. His scent enveloped you—warm, intoxicating, and entirely him.

“Don’t hide from me now,” he whispered, his nose brushing against yours. “I want to see every bit of you like this. All messy, all mine.”

His lips found the corner of your mouth, pressing a feather-light kiss that sent sparks racing through you. Then another kiss, softer, right below your jaw. Each touch was deliberate, leaving you breathless and clinging to his shoulders for balance.

“Chan,” you finally managed to whisper, your voice shaky but laced with yearning.

He hummed against your skin, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you, "Say it again," he murmured, his thumb tracing your lower lip. His gaze was dark, filled with something unspoken yet undeniable.

Your lips parted, and before you could even utter another word, his mouth was on yours— hungry, claiming, leaving no room for hesitation. His hand reaching to the waistband of your panties, sliding it down to your ankle, leaving you bare for him, the cold air hitting your core sent a shiver all over your body, making you gasp from the contact. His hands sliding back to your waist, pulling you flush against him, grinding his rock hard cock on your bare pussy.

The contact drew a chorus of moans from both of you, the raw pleasure sparking between your bodies like fire. “You feel that, baby?” Chan groaned, his voice thick and ragged, hips grinding against you with deliberate force. “Fuck… look what you do to me.”

His lips parted, his breath shallow and uneven as he took in the sight of you beneath him, flushed and needy. It was enough to snap the last thread of his patience. Without wasting another second, his hands moved with purpose, fingers fumbling slightly as he unbuckled his belt. The sharp clink echoed in the heated air, sending a thrill down your spine.

His gaze never left you, dark and full of promise, as he freed himself, his cock springing to life in his hand. “I can’t wait any longer, can i baby?” he murmured, the desperation in his tone making your heart race but the way he still asking for your consent is making you melt, you nod eagerly, muttering a soft "Please," that makes Chan groaning in return.

Your breath hitched as his hand returned to your waist, steadying you as the tip of his cock brushed against your entrance. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, and your fingers instinctively gripped his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

“Relax, baby,” Chan murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “I’ve got you.”

Slowly, he pushed forward, the stretch making you gasp, your body adjusting to the delicious intrusion. His low groan vibrated against your skin as he buried himself inside you inch by inch, his head falling to the crook of your neck.

“You feel so perfect,” he whispered, his voice shaking with restraint. “So tight… so warm… just for me.”

Your nails dug into his back, your mind hazy with pleasure as he finally stilled, letting you catch your breath. He pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his hands stroking your sides soothingly, grounding you in the moment.

“Tell me how you feel,” he urged, his lips brushing against your ear.

You couldn’t find the words, overwhelmed by the fullness and the way your bodies seemed to meld together. Instead, you let out a shaky moan, tilting your hips slightly in response. That was all the encouragement he needed.

Chan began to move, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in, slow and deep. The sensation was maddening, each roll of his hips perfectly measured to drive you wild. He set a pace that was both tender and commanding, as though he wanted to savor every second while still unraveling you completely.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice rough but filled with affection. You opened your eyes, meeting his intense gaze. The way he looked at you—with unbridled desire and something much deeper—made your heart skip a beat.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, punctuating his words with a deep thrust that left you gasping. "And i'm going to show you exactly what that means."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone making your core tighten around him. Chan groaned at the feeling, his control slipping as he snapped his hips harder, pulling a cry from your lips.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips as if anchoring himself. “You’re taking me so well, baby. So good for me.”

Each thrust seemed to claim you further, his movements growing more desperate as your moans filled the room. The sound of your bodies meeting was intoxicating, mixing with the broken gasps and groans that spilled freely from both of you.

“Chan, please,” you whimpered, your body trembling under his relentless rhythm.

“Please what, baby?” he teased, though his voice was strained, his forehead damp with sweat. He slowed his pace just enough to drive you insane, his cock dragging against your most sensitive spots with every deliberate stroke.

“Faster,” you pleaded, your nails digging into his arms. “Don’t stop.”

His smirk returned, though it was softer now, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting kiss. “Anything for you,” he murmured.

With that, he adjusted his grip, pulling your legs higher around his waist as he slammed into you, deeper and harder than before. The angle was devastating, and you cried out, your body arching into him as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned, his voice rough and full of pride. “I can feel you, baby. You’re so close, aren’t you?”

You nodded frantically, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “You’re gonna take everything I give you, aren’t you? Let me fill you up, baby. Let me make you mine in every way.”

The heat pooling in your stomach surged at his words, the thought pushing you even closer to the edge.

“Yes,” you whimpered, your voice trembling. “I’m yours. Always.”

“That’s right,” he growled, his pace quickening, each thrust hitting deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good. Gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he said, and his palm pressing to the buldge visible on your lower belly, where his cock going in and out.

The tension inside you snapped with his words, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you as your walls clenched around him. You cried out his name, your body trembling as pleasure overwhelmed you.

Chan cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering as your release pulled him over the edge. He buried himself deep with a guttural groan, his warmth spilling into you as he held you close, his grip on your hips unrelenting.

“Fuck,” he panted, his forehead pressing against yours as he caught his breath. “You’re perfect. You were made for me, baby.”

As the intensity of the moment passed, the room fell into a quieter, more peaceful rhythm. Chan pulled out slowly, carefully adjusting you so that you were no longer perched on the desk but supported against him, still breathing heavily. His hands gently cupped your face, his touch tender and reassuring.

“Hey, baby, are you okay?” His voice was soft, the previous urgency replaced by a genuine concern. His eyes searched yours, his gaze warm and comforting.

You nodded, still catching your breath, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m okay,” you whispered, your hands gently brushing his chest as you let your head rest against him.

Chan let out a breath of relief, his hand sliding down to your back as he pulled you closer to him, his warmth grounding you. He held you against him, his lips brushing your forehead in a soft kiss.

“You were amazing,” he murmured, his voice thick with affection. “I’ve got you, alright? Just breathe, take your time.”

His hands continued to move gently over your skin, tracing circles along your back and shoulders as if he were trying to erase any tension that might have lingered.

After a few moments, you met his gaze again, your heart still racing but feeling safe and cherished in his arms. “Thank you,” you said softly, your voice trembling just a little. “For being so gentle…”

He smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Anything for you, baby."

Chan leaned in and kissed you again, slow and tender this time, his lips soft against yours. When he pulled back, he continued to hold you close, his hands never leaving your body.

“You’re perfect," he said, giving your lips a light peck.

The air was still heavy with the aftermath, but now it felt like a calming silence, the love and care in his words washing over you like a warm tide. You stayed close, letting the quiet moments stretch out between you, savoring the feeling of his presence.

[keiizzx]

The Window To Your Heart

⟡ fox-shapeshifter!jeongin x gn! reader ⟡

⟡ synopsis: The fox outside of your new home just won't leave you alone. ⟡ warnings: none! ⟡ genre: fluff; strangers to ??? ⟡ wc: 2.5k ⟡ a/n: this is just a silly little idea I had and I really wanted to write something for Innie! not 100% satisfied with the ending but I didn't know where else to lead it, forgive me 😔 masterlist divider by @cafekitsune

Ever since you moved to your dream home on the edge of some woods, there had been a small fox hovering nearby the back of your yard, as if he was scouting out whether you were the right person to live in that house.

The fox always looked a bit malnourished, so eventually you sneakily put a bowl of food fit for foxes outside, hoping he trusted you enough to eat from you. The first few days the bowl always stayed filled to the brim, not one bite taken.

You sighed as you got rid of the food, wondering if it was really worth it. The meats weren’t really cheap after all, so if he wasn’t going to touch it, you might as well save that money up for something else. But something in the back of your head refused to stop putting out the bowl.

What if your kindness saved him from starvation one day?

And so, almost an entire week later, the bowl was empty. Licked clean, even. You couldn’t be happier for the little guy finally getting some proper food in, since it seemed like he couldn’t hunt for himself for whatever reason.

It was getting colder, so maybe there weren’t enough small animals nearby anymore. Whatever it was, you felt happy.

As you moved to take the bowl back inside, you saw the fox still idly sitting nearby, watching you.

“Was it tasty? I hope it was! I’ll put some more out later, okay?” – you smiled at him and although he couldn’t understand you, you felt like assuring him that this wasn’t the end of it, now that he finally trusted you enough to actually take from the bowl.

The fox, much to your surprise, let out a yip at your words.

“I’m taking that as a ‘yes, thank you.’ Well, see you later, little guy” – when you approached the door leading back to your house, the pitter patter of paws followed you. You turned to look at the animal again, now sitting politely at your front porch, waiting for you to say something.

“You want to come in? I don’t know…”

Almost as if on command, the fox began dramatically trembling, as if the cold was getting to him already. He let out a sad yip, his head hanging lowly.

Quite the dramatics. You were kind of impressed.

You sigh loudly and open the door far enough for him to slip in, which he happily does.

“But you’re gonna have to clean up! I don’t want your dirty paws on my new furniture! And don’t pretend like you can’t understand me” – you yelled after him and to his credit, he did stop in the middle of the room before touching any carpets or furniture.

Maybe the two of you could get along after all.

“Can I pick you up?” – you stood in front of him and it was fascinating how the movement of his head seemed like a nod. Maybe you were going crazy.

You gently carried the fox into your bathroom before setting him down in your bathtub, quickly rinsing the dirt off. He seemed to enjoy it, eyes closed and letting you move him wherever you wanted to.

Later on, the two of you settled on your couch. You were dozing off while watching a drama and the fox had found his comfort in one of your many blankets, snuggling in and enjoying the warmth.

-

The fox and you play this same game over the next weeks. At some point in the week, you’ll find him scratching at your door or expectantly waiting for you to cast a glance outside to let him in. He stays a while for food, scratches or a good bath and leaves the next morning before repeating the routine.

You’ve grown quite attached to the little guy, your days a little brighter whenever he visits. You still can’t help but feel like there’s a certain humanity to him. He seems to react to the things you say and do differently than an animal usually would.

He’s also extremely good at feeling when you’re down. You’ve learnt that the fox prefers to not be touched as much, save for a few head scratches here and there that you just cannot hold yourself back from. But whenever you’re down and not as cheery as usual while you prepare his food and he waits patiently behind you, he seems to grow more cuddly.

When meal time is over, he timidly lays down closer to you, his warm body pressed into your side as you watch something on TV together. If he was feeling very brave, sometimes he would end up laying on your lap with your hand softly treading through his fur.

It calmed you and he knew that. It was kind of comforting to know that even if it was a bit silly, the fox had grown into such a steady comfort in your life.

-

Your life would change when one morning you woke up and instead of your fox buddy sleeping on your couch, you found a grown man there. Equally as tangled into the blankets as the fox was but a grown man nonetheless.

“Who the hell are you!?” - you yelled, ready to fight the intruder.

At your scream, the man groggily blinked his eyes open and let out a big yawn as if this was the most normal thing to happen to him. When his eyes were properly open, he tilted his head at you in confusion. Had you forgotten about him?

“What are you doing in my house!?” - you took a few threatening steps towards him and the man instinctually raised a hand to diffuse the situation.

Seeing his own hand must have slapped him awake because his eyes widened.

“Wait! Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” - he suddenly yelled back, his arms still raised defensively.

He clumsily tried to disentangle himself from the blankets and just ended up looking silly. Frustrated, he huffed but kept tugging at the blankets.

While he was struggling you took the opportunity to take his appearance in, for surely no other reason than to know what he looks like so you could report him better.

His disheveled hair had a beautiful ginger shade and his cheekbones and jaw were sharp, yet looked so soft. What was most striking about him were his beautiful fox-like eyes.

Fox?

“I know this is going to sound crazy but I’m your fox! I swear!” - he started to whine and you finally took mercy on him and helped him get out of the deathtrap that was the blankets. You hugged the blankets to your body and looked wearily down at the man in front of you.

“I uh… Ah! Remember that one time I climbed through your bathroom window just to get inside?”

He was right. There was this one time you were taking a bath, just minding your own business. Your mistake was to leave the window open and the door on your porch closed. You heard shuffling outside and scratching directly on the wall next to you but thought nothing of it. The house would creak sometimes.

Until an entire fox was climbing through your window.

You made sure to teach him how to open the door on your porch afterwards.

“Wait, but… how?”

“Well, I’m not really human nor fox? I can turn into a fox. Or turn into a human? Whatever way you want to see it” - he shrugged.

“Thanks, by the way. For helping me. Other people usually ignore me, are too weary of a wild fox or are too busy cooing at me to realise I needed help” - he wrung his hands together awkwardly, not sure how to deal with the situation at hand now that his secret was out in the open. Surprisingly, despite the rough start, you seemed to take it better than he expected.

-

You learned that his name was Jeongin and he’d been mostly living his life as a wild fox. You also learned that Jeongin was even more hungry when he was human as you watched him scour down the second plate of pasta you made him. Must be the bigger body.

Jeongin was also pretty easy to talk to despite him not really spending time with a lot of humans. He was funny and extremely quick-witted, always ready to quip back at you.

Later, he was immersing himself in a series you were always watching when he came over, eager to know what he missed. When you saw him sitting there, you wondered where he was always going when he disappeared from your home in the mornings. Did he have a family? Or something he called home?

“Hey, Jeongin.”

His eyes teared themselves away from the screen to look at you. He tilted his head just like he would in fox-form and it tugged at your heartstrings.

“I don’t know how else to phrase this but… Do you have a home?” - you winced at how that question sounded and almost backpedaled, ready to explain what you meant but Jeongin just pursed his lips.

“This is as close as I ever came to that.”

Oh. Oh no.

“It’s cool, though. Being outside isn’t nearly as bad as everyone always says it is. They just don’t know the best places” - he smirks but something about his smirk feels off to you. There was this unaddressed elephant in the room now that the two of you were skirting around.

Jeongin not wanting to outright ask you and you not sure if it was appropriate to offer him.

Fuck it, your house was big enough.

“Jeongin, what would you say if you could live he-”

“Yes!”

He perked right up at you words, a big smile forming on his face that made him seem so much more fox-like. He came up to you to draw you into a big, comforting hug. One that he wanted to give you for a long time now but foxes usually don’t give the best hugs. He wasn’t so big on touches, always having disliked the people who wanted to pet or pull on his fur without his permission. But you always asked and he found himself melting into the couch whenever you absentmindedly scratched his head while watching TV.

He was going to be the best fox there was.

-

Living with Jeongin was easier than you could have expected. When you were out for work, he took care of chores at home, knowing you would be too tired to take care of them yourself later. You taught him how to use the many appliances in your home like the washing machine or the dishwasher.

He still hadn’t gotten the hang of cooking so you gave him permission to order take out for the two of you before you came home. You found him already setting up the table, dressed in his favorite shorts and pullover combo with silly slippers.

“They didn’t have the kimbap you liked, so I got you spring rolls instead.”

You hummed a quiet thanks to him as you sat down. It felt terribly domestic to be here like this with him. You enjoyed his presence bustling around you and thankfully he was a wonderful housemate.

He did get into trouble occasionally and used his fox form to hide away from you, which, frankly, you find unfair but Jeongin finds hilarious. You couldn’t imagine how you stayed sane the entire time in this house without him by your side and that’s when you realise that that simply never happened.

There wasn’t a time where Jeongin wasn’t by your side in this house. Ever since you moved here, he had been there as well. You didn’t communicate much nor did you know that he was an actual person hiding out in your garden but his presence was there nonetheless.

“What are you smiling about?” - he asked from across the table after swallowing the spring roll he stole off your plate.

“Just you.”

“Probably thinking about how awesome and sweet I am, right?” - he meant it as a joke. He really did. Which is why his shocked expression at you answering ‘yes' was funnier than you’d like to admit.

“It’s just crazy how ever since I lived here, I don’t think there was a super long period of time where I wasn’t, like, kinda with you, you know? You were always there.”

Jeongin felt that the air around you two had shifted to something more vulnerable with your admission. He wanted to tread carefully before he accidentally pushed you away.

“It’s always been like this, huh? Maybe me having the proper vocal chords to talk back to you is a better situation though” - he chuckled and you chuckle with him, agreeing easily.

It felt nice sitting here with him and time and time again you had to realise that Jeongin was quite handsome, the thought never quite leaving your brain whenever you looked at him. Maybe even so much so, that a small part of your heart was reserved just for him, if he would take it. Yet you always feared you would overstep your healthy boundaries and cause him to run away from you again.

You poked around in your food, not quite sure how to voice any of your feelings to him.

“I hope I can stay here for a long time” - he suddenly pipes up and you look up to find him already looking at you intently. There was something hidden underneath the meaning of his sentence and that made your heart beat faster.

“I hope so, too. It’s… nice to have you here” - you scrambled and he smiled, his hand finding yours across the table.

“You’ve been talking a lot about this one place in town you wanted to take me to once I was more accustomed to, well, being a human, right? Let me take you out.”

You felt your face grow hotter but the soft smile on his lips and the tips of his ears also growing red gave you some stability. At first he had been your comfort fox, and now he is your comfort person. Despite the two of you growing up vastly different from each other, you had a connection. One that you were willing to pursue.

“Sure, and who’s going to pay?”

“Me! With your money. I’ll make it up one day!”

He squeezed your hand and you laughed.

You didn’t mind having some extra expenses if it kept Jeongin close to you. As you were watching the latest episode of the show you two always watched, you felt bold and leaned into him. It almost seemed like Jeongin had been waiting for you to do that, his arm raising immediately to tuck you against his chest.

You almost think the sly fox had all of this planned after the first time you let him into your home. And you gladly fell for him.

-

taglist: @jeonginsleftcheek @moonchild9350

[keiizzx]

Felix at Shiz || LFX WICKED AU

The sunlight spilled into the common room at Shiz, casting a warm glow over the polished floors and the elegantly upholstered furniture. You sat by the window, the morning light catching on your quill as it scratched across your Sorcery notes. The day was already perfect, as it always should be—bright, orderly, and completely under your control.

“Good morning, Glinda.”

You glanced up from your notes, your quill pausing midair. Felix stood a few steps away, clutching a small stack of books. His silver hair caught the light in a way that made it gleam, and there was a shy, lopsided smile on his face. He looked like he was trying to act casual, but the faint nervous energy in his posture gave him away.

“Felix,” you said, with a polite but distant smile. He was harmless, after all. “What brings you here so early? Don’t tell me you’ve taken a sudden interest in studying.”

His laugh was soft, self-deprecating. “Caught me. I was just passing through and… well, you looked like you might need some company.”

“Company?” you repeated, arching a brow. “I can assure you, I don’t need company. I’m perfectly fine on my own, thank you very much.”

“Of course you are,” Felix said, quickly sitting in the chair across from you. “But even the most dazzling people could use a little conversation now and then.”

You rolled your eyes, though the corners of your lips twitched in amusement. He wasn’t like the others at Shiz, the ones who swarmed around you, eager to curry favor. Felix was… different. He wasn’t trying too hard. He just sat there, calm and unbothered, like he was genuinely happy just to be near you.

“So,” he said, nodding toward your notes. “Big project? Let me guess—you’re planning to knock the professors off their feet with your brilliance?”

You smirked, leaning back in your chair. “Naturally. Though, to be fair, it doesn’t take much effort.”

He laughed, the sound light and unguarded, and for a moment, you felt caught off guard. You weren’t used to this. Most people fawned over you or tried to impress you. Felix just… sat there, watching you like you were the most interesting thing in the room, but not in a way that felt suffocating.

“You know,” he said after a pause, leaning forward just slightly, “you make it look so easy. Being… well, you. It’s kind of incredible.”

You blinked, your quill still hovering midair. His words weren’t the same kind of flattery you were used to. They weren’t calculated or shallow. They felt real—almost too real—and you could feel the warmth creeping up your neck.

“Well,” you said, recovering with a practiced air of confidence, “it is a talent. One not everyone can manage, of course.”

“I believe it,” Felix said with a soft grin. He glanced at the books in his hands, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “I should probably let you get back to work. Wouldn’t want to distract you.”

You tilted your head, watching him as he stood. “You’re not as much of a distraction as you think, Felix.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As he turned to leave, something made you call after him. “Felix?”

He stopped and looked back at you, his expression curious and a little hopeful.

“You’re not… completely insufferable,” you said, letting the words hang in the air.

His grin widened, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw a hint of pink on his cheeks. “Thanks, Glinda. I’ll take that as a win.”

You watched him disappear down the hall, your quill forgotten as you stared after him. He wasn’t like Fiyero, with his careless charm and easy confidence. Felix was something else entirely—kind, genuine, and maybe just a little too endearing for his own good. You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips as you turned back to your notes.

[keiizzx]

i have a request 🥺! could you make leeknow x reader. it’s about leeknow having a thing for y/n yk and y/n LIKES SEUNGMIN so basically leeknow is doing everything in his power to make y/n like him but it’s tough since seungmin is y/n’s best friend and they have a shared history together. and leeknow be getting so jealous

Love’s crazy battle

Starring: leeknow, seungmin and y/n fab reader¡

Sypnosis: Y/N’s unbreakable bond with Seungmin feels like an impossible wall for Lee Know, who’s willing to risk everything for her love. He is consumed by jealousy but driven by hope, he fights to prove he’s more than second place. But seungmin gets jealous of the time she’s spending with him.Will Y/N see the love standing right in front of her, or will history win?

Warnings: slow burn, subtle smut

Word count:44.6k

Lee Know had always been a bit of a loner, reserved in his thoughts, but when it came to Y/N, everything changed. He could hardly think straight when she was around. His feelings for her had developed over timesubtle at first, a passing thought here or there, and then the realization that he was falling for her. Slowly, quietly, in a way that wasn’t so easy to ignore anymore.

But Y/N had her own thing going on. She wasn’t oblivious to him, not at all. Yet, she was always around Seungmin, always laughing at his jokes, always turning to him for everything, and Lee Know couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy each time he saw the two of them together. Seungmin was Y/N’s best friend, and their bond was undeniable.

Lee Know didn’t even know when it had happened, but the attraction had started to fester. Y/N had been there when he needed someone, but it wasn’t until recently that the idea of her not being in his life became unbearable.

The way she smiled, the way her eyes lit up when Seungmin said something funny it gnawed at him. I want that. I want her to look at me like that, he thought, staring at her from across the room. She was sitting on the couch, reading, while Seungmin was beside her, his voice animated as he spoke.

Why does it always have to be Seungmin? Lee Know thought bitterly. Why can’t it be me?

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even realize Hyunjin was sitting beside him until his friend spoke.

“You’re staring again, Minho.”

Lee Know snapped out of it, his gaze immediately shifting to Hyunjin. He had been so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice how obvious he was being.

“Uh, sorry,” Lee Know muttered, trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck.

Hyunjin smirked, nudging him lightly. “It’s not like you to get so worked up over a girl.”

Lee Know glared at him, but there was a hint of frustration in his voice. “It’s not just any girl, Hyunjin. It’s Y/N.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Ah, that explains it. But why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

Lee Know sighed. “She’s always with Seungmin. I don’t stand a chance.”

Hyunjin shook his head, his voice turning serious. “Minho, you won’t know until you try. She might feel the same way.”

Lee Know didn’t respond right away. The thought of confronting Y/N, of putting his feelings out there and risking their friendship, terrified him. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t keep hiding his emotions. Not when his heart ached every time he saw her smile at Seungmin.

Days passed, and Lee Know found himself drawn to Y/N more and more. The way she laughed, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke, it was like she had a gravity all her own, pulling him closer despite the circumstances. It was almost as if he couldn’t stop himself anymore, and his heart betrayed him every time he caught himself staring.

One day, the three of them Y/N, Seungmin, and Lee Know were having lunch in the park. Seungmin and Y/N were discussing something that seemed trivial, but it was enough to make Lee Know seethe with jealousy. They were so natural together, so comfortable.

Why does she turn to him so easily? Lee Know thought, pushing his food around on his plate. Does she even see me?

As if sensing the growing tension in the air, Y/N turned to Lee Know, her expression softening. “Minho, you’re awfully quiet today. What’s on your mind?”

Lee Know’s heart skipped a beat. She was looking at him—looking directly at him, her eyes full of concern.

“Nothing,” Lee Know replied quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… tired.”

Seungmin, of course, didn’t miss the subtle tension. “Are you sure? You’ve been acting weird lately. You usually joke around more.”

Lee Know’s gaze flicked to Seungmin, and for the briefest moment, he felt an overwhelming surge of jealousy. Why does it always come so easily for him?

But he pushed it down, shaking his head. “I’m fine,” he said with a tight smile.

Y/N, however, didn’t buy it. “You’re sure?” she asked again, this time her voice softer.

Why is she being so gentle with me? Lee Know thought. Maybe… maybe there’s more to this than I realize.

Seungmin seemed oblivious to the moment. “Anyway, did you hear about that new cafe opening downtown? Y/N and I should go check it out sometime, maybe this weekend.”

Lee Know felt the pit of his stomach drop. Of course she would go with him, he thought bitterly, although he didn’t show it on the outside.

Y/N glanced at him, catching the edge of his expression. “What do you think, Minho? Would you want to come?”

Lee Know blinked, caught off guard by her sudden question. She’s asking me? It didn’t make sense. Why would she want me to go?

“I… I guess,” Lee Know said, his voice faltering slightly. “Sure. I could come.”

Y/N smiled, a genuine smile that made his heart race. “Great! It’ll be fun.”

Over the next few days, Lee Know found himself spending more and more time with Y/N. It started off casually, with her inviting him along on errands or to grab a coffee, but soon, the interactions became more personal. They shared quiet moments in the library, exchanging thoughts on their coursework. He found himself confiding in her more than he ever had before.

She’s different with me now, Lee Know thought one evening as they sat on a park bench, sharing stories about their childhoods. I never realized how easy it could be to talk to her.

Y/N, unaware of the growing connection between them, laughed lightly as she told him a funny story about Seungmin.

“I swear, sometimes I think Seungmin is more dramatic than I am,” Y/N said, chuckling. “He can’t take a joke to save his life.”

Lee Know smiled, but there was a flicker of something darker behind his eyes. I don’t want to hear about Seungmin anymore. I want to talk about us. But I can’t say that.

“I’m sure he’s just being dramatic,” Lee Know said, his voice lighter than he felt. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, so he changed the subject. “You seem to get along with him really well.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she looked at him. “We’ve known each other for years. We’re like family.”

Lee Know felt his chest tighten at her words. Like family. And what am I?

But he didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he pushed the thought away, focusing on the warmth of her presence beside him. It felt nice. It felt right.

But as the days passed, he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that Seungmin was still in the picture—still the one Y/N would turn to. I can’t keep letting this happen. I have to make my move.

It wasn’t long before Seungmin began to notice the shift. Lee Know and Y/N were spending more time together, and it was starting to get under his skin. He was Y/N’s best friend, her confidant. They had history, a bond that couldn’t be broken. Or so he thought.

One afternoon, after a particularly long day of studying, Seungmin confronted Lee Know. They were walking down the street, heading to a nearby cafe when Seungmin finally spoke up.

“Minho, we need to talk.”

Lee Know raised an eyebrow, his nerves already on edge. “About what?”

Seungmin’s eyes narrowed, his voice low. “About Y/N.”

Lee Know’s heart skipped a beat. Here it comes.

“Y/N’s been spending a lot of time with you lately,” Seungmin continued, his tone defensive. “And I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

Lee Know’s jaw clenched. “I’m not trying to steal her from you, Seungmin,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “She’s her own person. I can’t control who she spends time with.”

Seungmin’s expression darkened. “You’ve always been a little too interested in her, Minho. I’m starting to think there’s more to this than you’re letting on.”

Lee Know’s patience was wearing thin. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Seungmin took a step closer, his tone growing more intense. “I see the way you look at her. You’re falling for her, aren’t you?”

Lee Know froze, his heart pounding in his chest. How does he know?

“I—” Lee Know began, but he didn’t know what to say.

Seungmin’s eyes softened slightly, but there was still a sharp edge to his words. “You better figure it out, Minho. I don’t want to lose her to you.”

It all came to a head one evening when Lee Know was hanging out with Y/N at a small café. They were sipping coffee, talking about everything and nothing at all, when Seungmin suddenly barged in, his expression dark.

“You’re spending a lot of time with him, huh?” Seungmin said, his voice laced with tension. He didn’t even greet Y/N first, his eyes locked on Lee Know.

Y/N blinked in surprise, but Lee Know wasn’t phased. “We’re just hanging out,” he said evenly, trying to keep his cool.

Seungmin’s gaze flickered to Y/N, who was looking between the two of them, clearly sensing the change in the atmosphere. “I don’t know if I like this, Minho,” Seungmin said, his voice low but sharp. “You’ve been acting different around her lately.”

Lee Know’s temper flared, but he forced himself to stay calm. “What’s your problem, Seungmin?”

Y/N’s eyes darted between them. “what’s happening right now?”

But before either of them could respond, Seungmin raised his voice. “You’re acting like you’re her only friend now, Minho. I don’t like it.”

Lee Know stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. “I’m not trying to replace you, Seungmin. I’m just… trying to be there for her.”

The tension in the air was palpable, and Y/N looked uncomfortable, clearly caught in the middle of their argument.

Seungmin clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “It’s not about replacing me, it’s about the way you’ve been acting. You can’t just swoop in and expect things to change just because you decided to—”

“I didn’t decide anything,” Lee Know interrupted, his voice rising. “I’m not doing anything wrong, okay? I’m just trying to be her friend, the same as you.”

Y/N stood up now, stepping between them, her eyes wide with alarm. “Stop! Both of you, stop!” Her voice was loud, but there was panic in it, like she was afraid things might actually get out of hand.

Seungmin looked at her for a moment, his expression softening. “I’m just… trying to make sure he knows his place,” he muttered under his breath.

Lee Know shot Seungmin a glare, and for a split second, their eyes locked, both of them silent, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the air. Neither one of them was willing to back down.

“I’m not trying to take anyone’s place,” Lee Know said, voice tight, but now quieter. “I’m just… here, like you are. What’s the problem with that?”

Y/N’s gaze flitted between them, her heart racing. She wanted to scream at both of them to stop acting like children, but the tension was so thick it was hard to breathe.

“I just want things to stay the way they were,” Seungmin said, his tone softer now, almost pleading. “I don’t want things to get… complicated.”

Lee Know turned to Y/N, his gaze softening just a little as he tried to gauge her reaction. She was still standing there, uncertain, caught in the middle of a battle she hadn’t signed up for. She looks so lost, Lee Know thought, his heart aching with the knowledge that he was contributing to the mess.

“I don’t want things to change either,” Lee Know said, his voice steady but not without frustration. “But I’m not going to back off just because you’re uncomfortable with it, Seungmin.”

Seungmin looked at him, then back at Y/N. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, clenching his jaw. Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the café, leaving a stunned silence behind him.

Lee Know stayed where he was, his chest tight. He hadn’t won, but the argument wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Y/N took a shaky breath and finally spoke, her voice quiet. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Lee Know didn’t know what to say either. His mind was racing, but he couldn’t find the words. Instead, he just stood there, watching her as she struggled with everything between them.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked, his voice soft, almost vulnerable.

She met his gaze, her eyes searching his face for something, anything. “I… I think I just need some time to think.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, and for the first time, Lee Know truly realized how complicated things had become. He didn’t want to lose her, but at this rate, he wasn’t sure what would happen next.

Y/N had left the café with a soft promise to see them later, but the air was thick with unsaid words and heavy thoughts. As soon as the door closed behind her, the atmosphere between Lee Know and Seungmin changed. What had been simmering beneath the surface now exploded in full force.

Lee Know’s fingers clenched around his coffee cup, the hot liquid now forgotten. He watched as Seungmin sat back in his chair, his arms crossed, his expression stormy.

Seungmin’s voice broke the silence first. “You’ve been acting like you’ve got some claim on her, Minho. You think she needs you more than me?”

Lee Know didn’t flinch. “I’m not the one making things awkward,” he said coolly, his voice dangerously calm. “I’ve just been here, trying to be her friend. You’re the one acting like I’m stealing something from you.”

Seungmin’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and something deeper—something darker. “Don’t even act like you don’t know what’s going on, Minho. You’re not fooling anyone. You’ve been sniffing around her for weeks, and it’s pathetic. She’s my best friend. You don’t get to just waltz in and play the hero.”

Lee Know’s fists tightened. He knew this was coming. Seungmin had been avoiding the truth for too long. But now, there was no denying it—Seungmin was jealous, and not just a little.

“I’m not trying to ‘play the hero,’ Seungmin,” Lee Know snapped, his voice low but seething. “I don’t need to play games with her. But it’s clear you’ve been hiding behind this act, pretending like everything’s fine. You’re scared of what might happen if she knows how you really feel.”

Seungmin stood up abruptly, the table creaking under the sudden movement. “You have no right to say anything about how I feel! You don’t get to dictate what happens between us, Minho. You need to stay the hell away from her.”

Lee Know’s eyes hardened, the challenge in Seungmin’s words hitting him like a physical blow. “What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?” His voice dropped to a low, menacing tone. “You want me to just back off and pretend like nothing’s happening? That we’re all just friends here? Because that’s not how it works.”

Seungmin sneered. “You don’t know anything about how this works. You’re just some guy trying to get into her head. You don’t even care about her. You just want to prove you’re better than me.”

Lee Know leaned in, his chest tightening as his frustration began to spill over. “I care about her more than you’ve ever made her feel, Seungmin. So don’t you dare try to act like you’ve got some kind of claim on her. I’m not backing down. If anything, you’re the one who’s been messing things up.”

Seungmin’s face twisted in fury, his hands trembling with rage. “You think you’re better than me? You think she’ll just drop everything and choose you over me? She’s not going to want some guy who only showed up when it was convenient. I’ve been here for her since the beginning, Minho.”

Lee Know stood up, his breath quickening as he took a step toward Seungmin. “You don’t know what she needs, Seungmin. You’re so busy pretending everything’s fine that you can’t see she’s struggling. You think she wants someone who won’t even admit their feelings?”

“Shut up!” Seungmin shouted, his voice breaking through the tension like a thunderclap. “You don’t know anything about her! You’re not better than me. You’re just a distraction.”

Lee Know’s eyes flashed with fury, his heart pounding in his chest. “A distraction? You think I’m a distraction to her? You think she’s going to look at you and think you’re the one who truly understands her?”

Seungmin’s lips curled into a bitter grin. “At least I didn’t wait until she was falling apart to finally decide I’m interested. You only care about her now because you see a chance to win. You’re just a stupid fucking low life idiot and that’s why nobody likes with you.”

That was it. The words hit Lee Know like a punch to the gut. His vision blurred with anger. He was done. The quiet rage that had been simmering inside him finally boiled over.

Without thinking, Lee Know’s fist shot out, slamming into Seungmin’s face with a sickening thud. The force of the punch sent Seungmin crashing backward into the table, knocking it over with a loud bang. Coffee spilled everywhere, the sharp smell of spilled liquid filling the air.

For a moment, the café was silent. Lee Know stood there, breathing heavily, his knuckles throbbing from the impact. Seungmin’s face was flushed with pain, but his eyes burned with something darker. Something more dangerous.

“You want to keep talking?” Lee Know’s voice was raw, almost unrecognizable with the anger that bubbled up from deep within. “Keep running your mouth. I’m done with this.”

Seungmin stood up slowly, wiping the blood from his lip. His eyes locked with Lee Know’s, and for the first time, Lee Know could see the full force of Seungmin’s jealousy and frustration. Seungmin had always been the calm one, the rational one, but now he was wild, unraveling at the seams.

“You think that’ll solve everything?” Seungmin hissed. “You think throwing a punch is going to make her choose you? You’re wrong, Minho. You’re just as selfish as I am. We’re both just a couple of idiots fighting over the same girl.”

Lee Know didn’t back down. “Maybe, but I’m not going to let you push me around anymore.”

The two of them were standing face to face now, chest to chest, fists clenched and breath coming fast. Neither one of them was willing to back off.

Seungmin’s eyes flared with rage as he lunged at Lee Know, throwing a wild punch that collided with Lee Know’s jaw. The force of the hit sent him staggering back, but he didn’t fall. Instead, he swung his own fist at Seungmin’s face, landing a blow to his cheek.

The fight was messy, chaotic. Every punch, every shove was fueled by jealousy, by frustration, by the raw emotion they both couldn’t control. Both of them had wanted Y/N, and neither of them was willing to admit it openly. But now, the weight of their feelings had led them to this a brutal, ugly fight neither of them had ever imagined.

Hyunjin burst through the door at that moment, eyes wide with shock as he rushed toward them, trying to break the fight up. “Enough!” he shouted, grabbing both of them by the shoulders and pulling them apart with surprising strength.

Lee Know stood there, chest heaving, his blood pounding in his ears. Seungmin wiped the blood from his lip, his eyes filled with something unreadable. Hyunjin didn’t let go of them immediately, his grip firm as he looked between the two.

“You both need to calm down,” Hyunjin said, his voice more controlled than it had been just a moment ago. “This… this isn’t helping anyone.”

Lee Know didn’t respond. His mind was racing, his emotions a mess. The fight had escalated so quickly, but now that it was over, it felt like a hollow victory. What had it solved? Nothing. It hadn’t solved anything. He wanted to be the one Y/N turned to, but now… now he wasn’t sure how to fix things.

The fight had been messy. Lee Know had left the café first, walking out without another word to anyone. He had stormed off, his mind racing with everything that had happened. But now, the dust had settled—sort of.

Seungmin, on the other hand, wasn’t in a much better place. He had lingered for a while, still processing everything that had just happened. It was hard not to feel the burn of that fight, the sting of Lee Know’s words, the punch that had landed with a resounding smack against his cheek. But what really gnawed at him wasn’t the physical pain; it was the fact that Y/N hadn’t been there to witness it.

He didn’t want to admit it, but the truth stung.

The truth was, Y/N was starting to see Lee Know differently. He could see it in the way she looked at him when he was around. The tension in the air when the three of them were together was almost unbearable, and Seungmin hated it. He hated how Lee Know seemed to be inching closer to Y/N every day.

But the next day was different. Y/N had agreed to hang out with him. It wasn’t just another group gathering; it was just the two of them, the way things used to be. Seungmin had invited her over to his house, and she’d agreed without hesitation. Maybe, just maybe, he could regain the comfort he had with her before all of this tension had begun. Before everything had changed.

The air in Seungmin’s apartment felt heavier than usual as Y/N stepped inside. She always loved coming here—his space felt comfortable, familiar, like home. But today, it was different. Everything felt strange, as if something was shifting beneath the surface.

Seungmin greeted her with a casual smile, but his eyes held something deeper. There was a tension there, a wariness that Y/N couldn’t quite place. She couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the fight she’d witnessed between him and Lee Know just a few days ago. Things had changed between them ever since. And though she tried to ignore it, a part of her couldn’t help but feel the shift feel it in the way they both looked at her, in the moments of silence that stretched too long.

“So, what do you want to do today?” Seungmin asked, trying to sound casual. He motioned toward the couch. “We could watch a movie or just hang out… Whatever you feel like.”

Y/N nodded, stepping further into the room. She felt drawn to the couch, sinking into its softness. But as she did, her eyes fell on Seungmin’s arm. Her gaze lingered for a moment, and she froze. There was a bruise on his forearm, just above his sleeve.

“Seungmin… what happened?” she asked, her voice soft, but sharp with concern. She stood up slightly, her eyes locked on the purple-blue mark.

He paused, looking down at the bruise as if he had just remembered it was there. A faint chuckle escaped his lips, though it was humorless. “It’s nothing,” he said, brushing it off. “I… got into a bit of a scuffle with Lee Know. Nothing serious.”

Y/N’s heart sank. She had hoped it wasn’t related to the fight, but now that she saw the bruise, the tension between them felt even more palpable. She sat back down, her thoughts racing.

A part of her wanted to ask more, wanted to know the truth about what had happened, but another part of her knew it wouldn’t do any good. The distance between Seungmin and Lee Know was growing, and there was nothing she could do to fix it. It was like they were both pulling in different directions, and she was caught in the middle.

“I didn’t know it had gotten that bad,” Y/N finally said, her voice quieter now. She couldn’t help but look at the bruise again.

Seungmin shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he repeated. “I’m fine. You don’t need to stress about it.”

But Y/N wasn’t so sure. She studied him, her eyes tracing the curve of his jaw, the way his hand tightened around the edge of the couch. There was more beneath the surface, and she could feel it in her bones.

“Okay,” she said softly, though the worry in her chest didn’t go away. She changed the subject, trying to push the awkwardness aside. “What have you been up to lately?”

Seungmin leaned back, trying to relax, but Y/N could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers drummed against the armrest.

“Same old stuff,” he replied, but his voice was distracted. “School, work, and dealing with… everything else.” His eyes flicked toward her, searching for something in her expression. “I haven’t had much time to… think about anything else.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his words. The way he said it made her wonder—was he talking about Lee Know? Or was he talking about something else entirely?

She tried to ignore the way her stomach fluttered at the thought.

They sat in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. Y/N shifted on the couch, her body feeling warmer as the space between them seemed to shrink.

“So,” Y/N began, trying to lighten the mood, “What do you want to do today? Really, I’m good with anything.”

Seungmin glanced at her, his lips twitching into a small smile. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “How about we just… hang out? No pressure.”

Y/N smiled, though her mind was still caught on the bruise. It was hard to focus on anything else when she could still feel the weight of it in the air. She shifted again, glancing down at her phone, but when she looked up, she found Seungmin watching her—his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that she wasn’t quite used to.

It was like everything in the room slowed for a moment. The sound of her own breath filled her ears, and for a brief second, she wondered if she could hear his heart beating too. They were sitting so close now, the space between them feeling like nothing at all.

Y/N’s pulse quickened as she noticed how his eyes dropped to her lips for just a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again. She held her breath, unsure of what to do, her mind swirling with thoughts she couldn’t quite put into words.

Seungmin leaned forward slightly, just enough for Y/N to feel the heat from his body. His breath brushed against her cheek, sending a shiver down her spine. Her heart thudded in her chest, the anticipation thick in the air.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and almost a whisper. “I…”

Before he could finish, Y/N’s eyes flickered to his lips again, and that was all the invitation Seungmin needed.

Without thinking, he closed the distance between them. His lips brushed against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. It was light, almost hesitant, but the moment their lips met, it felt like the world had shifted.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her hand reaching up to rest against his chest. Her heart pounded in her chest as Seungmin deepened the kiss, his hands gently cupping her face. Everything else faded away—the fight, the tension, the complicated emotions swirling around them.

It was just them now.

Y/N pulled away first, her face flushed with heat, her breath shaky. She stared at Seungmin, her heart still racing as the weight of what had just happened sank in.

“Seungmin,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as she tried to steady herself. “What are we doing?”

His forehead rested against hers, his hands still gently holding her face. His breath was heavy, matching her own, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the thumping of their hearts, beating in sync.

“I don’t know,” Seungmin whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. “But I can’t stop… I don’t want to stop.”

Y/N felt the tension between them pull tighter, the air around them crackling with intensity. There was no going back now, but as much as she wanted to give in, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to change. Something that might tear them apart.

But in that moment, with his lips hovering just inches from hers, she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything else.

The following day, the weight of everything that had happened the day before lingered heavily on Y/N’s mind. The kiss with Seungmin the one that had caught her completely off guardwas still on her lips, like a taste she couldn’t quite shake off. But today, she needed to focus. She wasn’t about to let one moment complicate things more than it already had. She couldn’t.

But then, there was Lee Know.

She tried not to notice the way his eyes followed her every move, the subtle way he lingered at the edges of her vision. He was always around. It made her uncomfortable and yet… something about it tugged at her in a way she couldn’t fully understand.

Seungmin, on the other hand, had been quieter today. Y/N caught him stealing glances at her in between classes, but the energy between them felt different unsure, like the weight of their unspoken feelings hung between them, thick and heavy. She liked him. She definitely did. But something inside her was still unsure. She couldn’t help but feel like there was something she was missing.

It wasn’t just about Seungmin. Lee Know had been in the background, too, his presence so constant it was impossible to ignore. But there was nothing she could do about that, right? He had always been a little mysterious, a little aloof. And she didn’t need more complication in her life right now.

The school day dragged on, the hours stretching into what felt like an eternity. As the final bell rang, Y/N grabbed her bag and headed for the doors, ready to meet Seungmin outside. She had promised him they’d hang out. Just the two of them.

But as she walked through the crowded hallway, she couldn’t help but notice that all the noise seemed to fade away, and all she could hear was the rhythmic beat of her heart in her chest. The feeling of someone watching her sent a shiver down her spine. She turned slightly, her heart skipping a beat.

There he was.

Lee Know was standing at the end of the hallway, leaning casually against the lockers, his eyes locked onto hers. His usual teasing smirk was absent, replaced by a steady, unreadable gaze. Y/N felt her pulse quicken despite herself. She told herself it was nothing, that it was just Lee Know being his usual self.

But there was something different today.

Before she could look away, Lee Know pushed himself off the lockers and started walking toward her. He moved with a purposeful calm, and each step seemed to slow down the world around them.

Y/N’s hand tightened around the strap of her bag. She was supposed to be meeting Seungmin—why did Lee Know always have a way of pulling her in? She could feel the tension building in the pit of her stomach as he got closer.

She tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the fact that she was meeting Seungmin, but Lee Know’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Y/N,” his voice was low and smooth, and it stopped her in her tracks.

She turned toward him, trying to keep her expression neutral. “Lee Know, what’s up?”

He stopped right in front of her, so close she could feel the warmth radiating off his body. His eyes were intense, fixed firmly on her, but his expression remained unreadable. There was a flicker of something there, something deeper than just his usual teasing.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” His voice was quieter now, more serious than she’d ever heard it.

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, she felt the familiar hand on her shoulder. Seungmin’s face appeared in her line of sight, confusion written all over it.

“Y/N, are you ready to go?” Seungmin asked, his gaze flickering between her and Lee Know.

Y/N hesitated, her mind racing. She wanted to spend time with Seungmin, but the way Lee Know was looking at her now… it was different. She could feel the unspoken challenge in the air. She could feel the pull between them, an almost magnetic force.

Lee Know didn’t look at Seungmin. He didn’t acknowledge him at all. His eyes stayed focused on Y/N, unwavering.

“You know I was just about to head out with Seungmin, right?” Y/N tried to keep her tone light, even though she could feel her heart beating faster.

“I know,” Lee Know replied, his voice oddly calm. “But this won’t take long. I just need a minute with you.”

Y/N glanced at Seungmin, but his face was hard to read, his expression tight. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, his attention focused solely on Lee Know.

“Seungmin, it’s okay,” Y/N said softly, trying to smooth over the tension. “I’ll be right back.”

Seungmin nodded, but his jaw was clenched, his eyes still wary as Y/N was gently led away by Lee Know down the hallway.

Y/N felt a sudden chill run down her spine as Lee Know guided her toward an empty classroom. The air felt heavier, charged with something that made her stomach tighten. Her mind racedwhat was he going to say? Why was he acting like this?

Lee Know opened the door, and Y/N stepped inside before him. She didn’t have a chance to ask what was going on before the door shut behind them with a soft click. She turned, about to speak, but the words stuck in her throat when she saw the way Lee Know was looking at her. His eyes were darker now, his posture rigid, and there was no trace of the usual playful demeanor. He was all business now.

“Lee Know, what’s going on?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart pounding.

He didn’t answer right away, only closed the space between them with deliberate steps. His gaze never left her face, and it made her feel exposed, like he could see right through her. The tension in the room was thick, suffocating.

“Why do you always let him have you?” Lee Know’s voice was low, almost dangerous, as he spoke. There was an edge to it, a frustration that had been building for too long.

Y/N blinked, not sure how to respond. “What do you mean?”

Lee Know let out a sharp breath, his eyes flashing with something unreadable. “You know exactly what I mean. The way you look at him. The way you let him get under your skin. It’s so… obvious.”

Y/N felt a rush of heat spread across her chest, her mind scrambling to keep up with his words. “I don’t Lee Know, I don’t understand. Seungmin is just my friend.”

Lee Know’s lips curled into a smirk, but it wasn’t playful. It was bitter. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

Her pulse quickened as he took another step closer. “I told you, it’s not like that between us.”

“I don’t buy it.” Lee Know’s voice was steady, but there was an undeniable fire in his words. “You think you can have him and have me too? That you can keep playing this game?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as his face came dangerously close to hers. Her heart thudded erratically in her chest. “What do you want from me?” she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

Lee Know’s eyes softened for a split second, and in that moment, she saw the intensity of what he was feeling something raw, something desperate.

“I want you to see me,” he said quietly, almost like a confession. “I want you to see what I’ve been trying to show you this whole time.”

Y/N’s heart raced as the tension between them built to an almost unbearable level. She was frozen, unsure of what was happening, of what he wanted. But she couldn’t deny that the pull between them was undeniable. The words hung in the air like a silent promise, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

Y/N’s pulse was hammering in her ears as she stood there, locked in the classroom with Lee Know. The space between them seemed to shrink with every breath she took. She tried to gather her thoughts, but all she could focus on was the intensity in his eyes, the way he was standing so close, his presence overwhelming in the small, empty room.

“Lee Know, I…” Y/N began, her voice shaky. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but there were so many emotions bubbling up inside herconfusion, frustration, and something else she couldn’t quite place.

He watched her, silent and still, his gaze never leaving hers. “What is it, Y/N?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, like he was waiting for her to say something that would make this whole thing make sense.

Y/N swallowed hard, her breath coming faster as she looked up at him. “I don’t understand,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you doing this? Why are you pulling me away from Seungmin like this?”

Lee Know’s expression softened for a brief moment, but his gaze was still intense, searching her face like he was trying to read her every thought. He took another step closer, closing the distance between them even more. She could feel his breath on her skin now, each exhale a reminder of how close they were.

“Because you don’t see it, Y/N,” he said quietly, his tone suddenly vulnerable. “You don’t see me. You never have.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she took a small step back, but there was nowhere to go. The classroom felt smaller with every passing second, the walls closing in on her as Lee Know continued to advance. Her mind was racing, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and conflicting emotions. Why was this happening? Why was it so hard to breathe?

“You’re not just a friend to me,” Lee Know said, his voice almost a whisper now. “You never were. And I’ve tried to show you, in every way I could, but you always ran back to Seungmin.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. She wanted to say something, anything, to make sense of this, but nothing felt right. Her heart was telling her one thing, but her mind was still tangled in knots.

“You don’t understand,” she finally managed to say, her voice breaking slightly. “I never wanted to hurt you. But… Seungmin… he’s my friend. I don’t know how to—”

Lee Know cut her off, his voice suddenly fierce, intense. “You think I don’t understand? You think I don’t know how much he means to you?” His eyes burned with frustration, but there was something else there too something darker, something desperate. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. But why does it always have to be him, Y/N? Why can’t it be me?”

Y/N felt a rush of heat spread across her chest, her mind racing to make sense of his words. She could feel her pulse pounding in her throat, and her breath was coming in shallow gasps. She wanted to step back, to put distance between them, but her body betrayed her. She couldn’t move.

His face was inches from hers now, his hands resting at his sides, fists clenched, as though he was holding himself back. But she could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his eyes flickered down to her lips, and she knew.

He wanted this.

She wanted this too.

And yet, the tension was suffocating. The silence between them stretched out, thick and heavy, until it felt like the air itself was crackling with something dangerous.

“Lee Know,” she whispered, barely able to breathe, “what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing gently against her arm. The simple touch sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and she instinctively stepped closer, drawn to him in a way she couldn’t deny.

His hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek, and she closed her eyes, the sensation overwhelming.

“Y/N…” His voice was soft, pleading, as if he was waiting for her to give him permission. “Please…”

And then, without another word, he leaned in, closing the final gap between them.

Her heart stopped in her chest as his lips brushed against hers, tentative at first, like he was testing the waters. But the moment their lips met, the floodgates opened. All the tension, all the unspoken words, the emotions that had been building between them for weeksthey were released in that one moment.

His hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Y/N’s mind went blank. She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything except the feeling of him so close, so warm, his lips moving against hers with an urgency that matched her own.

For the first time, the confusion, the tension, the fear it all melted away. There was only Lee Know. Only the way he made her feel.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they tried to steady their breathing. Y/N’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her heart still racing in her ears.

Lee Know’s hand was still gently cupping her face, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

“I don’t want to be just another guy to you, Y/N,” Lee Know murmured, his voice hoarse. “I want to be the one you choose. The one you see.”

Y/N felt a rush of conflicting emotions swirl inside her. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. And yet, there was something about being with him in this moment that made everything else fade away.

“I…” Y/N started, but the words stuck in her throat. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what. She was caught between the pull of her feelings for Seungmin and the overwhelming intensity of what she felt for Lee Know.

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Take your time, Y/N,” he said softly. “But don’t keep running from me.”

Y/N stood there, her mind racing, trying to process what had just happened. She had never expected this never imagined she’d be caught in the middle of such a storm. But here she was, with Lee Know standing so close, his presence impossible to ignore.

Lee Know pressed his forehead to hers, his breath still shallow as they lingered in the moment. He leaned in again, his lips meeting hers with more urgency this time, as though he couldn’t wait any longer. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, the heat between them intensifying. The air between them was thick, charged with everything they’d both been holding back.

As he kisses her he moves her up onto the desk.his hands roaming her body.

While kissing her hungrily, his tongue exploring her mouth with an insistent need. His hands roamed over her body, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. He could feel the heat of her skin through her clothes, and it only fueled his desire.

He then steps between her legs as he pressed his body against hers. His hands moved to her thighs, tracing small circles against her skin as he continued to kiss her, his lips moving down to her neck.

He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, marking her as his own.

"Minho..." Y/N gasped, her voice laced with desire.

He pulled back, his eyes dark with lust as he looked at her. "You're so pretty" he growled, his hands gripping her hips.

He leaned in to capture her lips again, this time more forcefully but gentle making sure not to hurt her. He was claiming her.

He began to kiss down her neck, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of marks in their wake. He wanted everyone to know that she was his, that he had claimed her body and soul.

Y/N could feel his arousal pressing against her, a reminder of how much he wanted her. She moaned softly, her body arching into his touch.

In this moment she forgets seungmin is waiting for her outside.

Lee Know's hands moved to the waistband of her pants, his fingers hooking under the fabric as he began to tug them down. He pulled them off in one swift motion, tossing them aside without a care.

He then turned his attention to his own pants, quickly undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them down just enough to free himself, his hardness pressing against her through his boxers.

He let out a low groan as he pressed himself against her, the thin layer of fabric between them doing little to dull the sensation. "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice rough with need.

"Please, Minho..." Y/N begged, her body trembling with anticipation.

He chuckled darkly, enjoying the effect he had on her. "Please what, baby?" he asked, his lips brushing against her ear.

She could feel his hot breath against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. "I need you," she whispered, her hands clutching at his shirt.

He smirked, his hands roaming over her body as he teased her. "You're so desperate for me," he said, his voice low and husky. "I am too so of course~"

Lee Know's fingers slid under the waistband of her underwear, slowly peeling them down her legs. He tossed them aside as well, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of her bare before him.

He positioned himself at her entrance, his body tense with anticipation. He teased her for a moment, running the tip of his cock along her slick folds, making her whimper with need.

"You're so wet for me," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "So ready for me to take you."

He couldn't wait any longer. He pushed into her, groaning as her tight heat enveloped him. "Fuck," he hissed, his hands gripping her hips tightly.

Y/N moans quiet, her back arching as he filled her completely. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside her.

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first. He wanted to savor the feeling of being inside her, the way her body clenched around him.

"You feel so good," he repeated, his voice strained with pleasure. "So perfect for me."

Lee Know picked up the pace, his hips slamming into her with a relentless force. The desk creaked beneath them, the sound echoing through the empty classroom.

Y/N was lost in a haze of pleasure, her moans growing louder with each thrust. She couldn't control the sounds that escaped her lips, her body too overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her. She bites her lip to muffle it.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice rough with need. "Let me hear you."

He leaned down, capturing one of her nipples between his teeth as he continued to pound into her. She cried out at the sensation, her nails digging into his back as she clung to him desperately.

Lee Know's pace became frantic, his need for release taking over. He could feel his own climax building, the tension coiling tightly in his gut.

He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that sweet spot inside her that made her scream. And scream she did, her body arching off the desk as pleasure coursed through her.

"I'm close," he grunted, his breath hot against her skin. "Cum for me, y/n. I want to feel you come undone around me."

Lee Know's movements became more erratic, his body tense as he chased his release. He could feel her walls fluttering around him, a sure sign that she was close.

his voice ragged. "Let go for me."

He continued to thrust into her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Just as he felt her walls clench tightly around him, he pulled out, spilling himself on her stomach with a strangled groan.

After that and they got dressed and Lee know made sure she was okay. But then y/n remembers seungmin is waiting for her.

Y/N quickly fixed her pants, her heart racing as she glanced at Lee Know, who was pulling his shirt back over his head. The silence between them was heavy, but neither of them dared to break it. She didn’t even want to look at him—not because of regret, but because she wasn’t ready to face what had just happened.

“Y/N,” Lee Know said softly, his voice tentative. He was standing there, watching her, his eyes full of questions he wasn’t sure he should ask.

But Y/N shook her head quickly, brushing her hair out of her face as she grabbed her bag from the desk. “Don’t,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside her. “We can’t… talk about this. Not now.”

Lee Know frowned, his jaw tightening as he took a step closer. “So, what? You’re just going to pretend this didn’t happen?”

She hesitated for a moment, her hand gripping the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white. “I have to go,” she said, sidestepping him and heading for the door. She felt his gaze on her the entire time, burning into her back, but she didn’t turn around. She couldn’t.

Her mind was spinning as she stepped into the hallway, quickly smoothing down her clothes and forcing her expression to stay neutral. She couldn’t let anyone see that something had changed, that everything had changed.

The moment she saw Seungmin waiting for her near the lockers, her heart twisted painfully in her chest. He smiled at her, his easy, familiar smile, and it felt like a punch to the gut. Forcing a smile of her own, she walked toward him as though nothing had happened, as though she wasn’t still feeling Lee Know’s touch on her skin.

“Hey,” Seungmin greeted her, his voice warm. “You’re late. What took you so long?”

“Got caught up talking to a teacher,” she lied effortlessly, her voice light and casual. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, willing herself to act normal. “Sorry about that.”

Seungmin shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “No worries. Ready to head out?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said, nodding quickly. She fell into step beside him, the weight of what had just happened pressing heavily on her chest. But she pushed it down, burying it deep where it couldn’t surface. Not now. Not when Seungmin was looking at her like that, so oblivious to the storm raging inside her.

As they walked down the hallway together, she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder. Lee Know was still standing by the classroom door, his expression unreadable, his eyes locked on her.

Y/N quickly turned back, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think about him. She couldn’t think about any of it. Not now.

The next day it’s the weekend.

Y/N lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as sunlight filtered through her curtains, painting faint patterns across her room. The weekend had arrived, yet it didn’t bring the peace she had hoped for. Instead, her mind was a battlefield, torn between two faces—two sets of eyes that seemed to haunt her every thought.

Lee Know. Seungmin.

She turned onto her side, clutching her pillow tightly as if it could somehow absorb the chaos swirling in her chest. Her heart was a mess of contradictions. When she thought of Seungmin, she felt warmth, comfort, and familiarity—memories of laughter, long talks, and the easy rhythm they had built together over the years.

But then, there was Lee Know. The memory of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, the way his voice sent shivers down her spine. He was raw, overwhelming, and impossible to ignore. Being with him had felt like stepping into a storm—terrifying yet exhilarating.

Y/N groaned, burying her face in the pillow. “What am I doing?” she muttered to herself, her voice muffled.

She had always prided herself on being logical, practical. But now, logic had deserted her entirely. How had she gotten to this point? How had everything become so tangled?

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she reached for it hesitantly, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Seungmin’s name on the screen.

Seungmin: Morning! Want to grab lunch later?

Y/N’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as she hesitated, her mind instantly flashing back to Lee Know’s face—the way he had looked at her after everything that had happened. She hadn’t heard from him since, and the silence was unnerving. Did he regret it? Did she?

Before she could answer Seungmin, another buzz made her jump. This time, it was a message from Lee Know.

Lee Know: We need to talk.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she sat up, her heart racing. She stared at the two messages, the weight of them pressing down on her like a tidal wave.

Two boys. Two choices. And no idea which path would lead to happiness—or heartbreak.

Y/N set the phone down without responding to either of them. She needed time to think, to figure out what she truly wanted. But the more she thought about it, the more trapped she felt, like she was caught in a web she couldn’t escape.

She got out of bed and padded to the window, looking out at the quiet street below. Everything looked so normal, so simple, and yet her world was anything but.

“Why can’t this be easy?” she whispered to herself.

But deep down, she knew the answer. It wasn’t easy because both Seungmin and Lee Know meant something to her. And no matter what she chose, someone was going to get hurt.

As she stood there, staring out at the world that seemed so indifferent to her turmoil, one thought echoed in her mind

She couldn’t avoid them forever

For days, Y/N had done everything she could to avoid them both. Ignoring texts, dodging calls, and even changing her usual routes to class or around town. She thought that putting distance between them would make things clearer, give her the space to figure out what her heart truly wanted.

But all it had done was amplify the confusion.

The weight of it was unbearable—two people she cared about deeply, and no idea how to make a choice without breaking someone’s heart, maybe even her own.

It was late afternoon when she found herself walking aimlessly through the park near her house, the crisp air carrying the scent of autumn leaves. She hadn’t planned on being here, but her feet had brought her to the spot where she, Seungmin, and Lee Know had often hung out together.

Fate, it seemed, wasn’t done with her yet.

When she looked up, her breath hitched. Both of them were there. Seungmin stood by the swings, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. Lee Know was leaning against a tree nearby, arms crossed, his jaw tight.

They hadn’t come together; that much was obvious from the tension crackling in the air between them. But somehow, they were both here now, and their eyes were fixed on her.

Y/N froze, her heart pounding as panic surged through her. She hadn’t prepared for this for seeing them both at the same time, let alone having to face the storm she had been avoiding.

“Y/N,” Seungmin was the first to speak, his voice steady but edged with frustration. “We need to talk.”

Lee Know pushed off the tree, his dark eyes never leaving hers. “Yeah, I think it’s about time.”

She swallowed hard, looking between them. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, you can start by explaining why you’ve been avoiding us,” Seungmin said, his tone sharper now. “You’ve been acting like we don’t exist, and I think we both deserve better than that.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” Y/N said quickly, her voice wavering. “I just needed time to think.”

“Think about what?” Lee Know pressed, stepping closer. “You’ve had days, Y/N. Days to figure out how you feel. And yet, here we are. Still waiting.”

Her stomach twisted as she looked at them two faces she cared about, both looking at her with such intensity that it was hard to breathe. “It’s not that simple,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It is simple,” Seungmin said, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You can’t keep us both in limbo like this. It’s not fair.”

Lee Know nodded, his gaze unwavering. “He’s right. You have to decide, Y/N. Do you want him or me?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. She took a shaky step back, feeling like the ground beneath her was crumbling.

“I don’t… I don���t know,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I care about both of you. I don’t want to hurt either of you.”

“That’s not good enough,” Lee Know said, his voice low but firm. “We’ve both been patient, but we can’t keep doing this. You have to choose.”

Seungmin’s eyes softened for a moment, but his tone remained steady. “We’re not asking you to make a decision lightly. But you need to be honestwith us and with yourself.”

Y/N felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as she looked between them. Her heart was a whirlwind of emotions guilt, fear, longing, and love. But as much as she wanted to keep them both close, she knew they were right. She couldn’t keep running from this.

Her voice trembled as she finally said, “I just need more time.”

Lee Know’s jaw tightened, and he glanced at Seungmin before looking back at her. “You’ve had time, Y/N. How much more do you need?”

Seungmin exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “If you need more time, fine. But you can’t avoid us anymore. Figure it out, Y/N. And soon.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

Lee Know stayed for a moment longer, his gaze piercing. “I hope you make the right choice,” he said softly before following Seungmin, leaving her standing there alone.

Y/N sank onto the nearest bench, her head in her hands. The clock was ticking, and no matter how much she wished for clarity, she knew that the answer wouldn’t come easily.

It had been days since the confrontation at the park, and neither Seungmin nor Lee Know had spoken to Y/N. She had sent a few hesitant texts to each of them, but their responses were short and distant, leaving her even more unsure of where she stood with them.

Unbeknownst to her, Lee Know and Seungmin were dealing with the situation in their own way. The tension between them had been simmering for weeks, and it was finally about to boil over.

They met at a quiet café near the edge of town, a place they knew would be empty enough for them to talk without interruptions. Lee Know was already seated at a corner table when Seungmin walked in, his usual calm demeanor replaced with something colder, more guarded.

Seungmin sat down across from him, folding his arms. “So, what’s this about?”

Lee Know leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “We need to talk about Y/N.”

Seungmin’s jaw tightened. “I think we’ve talked enough, don’t you?”

“Not like this,” Lee Know replied, his voice steady but firm. “Look, we’ve both made it pretty clear how we feel about her. And we both know she’s struggling to choose between us.”

Seungmin’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t respond.

Lee Know leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. “I don’t want to keep fighting with you, Seungmin. And I don’t want to hurt Y/N by forcing her to make a decision she’s not ready for.”

“So, what’s your solution?” Seungmin asked, his tone skeptical.

Lee Know hesitated for a moment before saying, “We share her.”

Seungmin blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. “What?”

“You heard me,” Lee Know said, his voice calm but determined. “We stop making this a competition. We let her decide how she wants to split her time between us. No more fighting, no more pressuring her.”

“That’s insane,” Seungmin said, shaking his head. “How is that supposed to work?”

“I don’t know,” Lee Know admitted. “But it’s better than what we’re doing now. And it’s better than making her choose and risking losing her altogether.”

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, his arms still crossed as he considered the idea. It went against everything he had been feeling the jealousy, the possessiveness but a part of him couldn’t deny that Lee Know had a point.

“She might not even agree to it,” Seungmin said after a long pause.

“That’s up to her,” Lee Know replied. “But if we’re both serious about wanting her in our lives, then we need to at least try.”

Seungmin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I still think this is crazy. But… I’ll agree, for her sake. If she’s okay with it.”

Lee Know nodded, a small sense of relief washing over him. “Good. Then we’ll talk to her together.”

Seungmin gave him a wary look. “Just so we’re clear, this doesn’t mean I’m okay with you being with her. I’m only doing this because I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Same here,” Lee Know said. “This isn’t about us. It’s about her.”

With that, an uneasy truce was formed. But as they left the café, both of them knew that the path ahead wouldn’t be easy for any of them.

It was late afternoon when Y/N received the text message that left her staring at her phone, her pulse racing.

Seungmin: Meet us at the park near the swings. We need to talk.

The “us” caught her off guard. She didn’t need to ask who he meant she knew both Seungmin and Lee Know would be there.

Her stomach churned as she walked to the park, a thousand questions and scenarios racing through her mind. What could they possibly want to say together? The tension between the three of them had reached a breaking point, and she had no idea how this would go.

When she arrived, they were already there. Seungmin was sitting on one of the swings, his expression neutral but his shoulders tense. Lee Know stood a few feet away, leaning against the frame of the swing set with his arms crossed.

“Y/N,” Seungmin said as she approached. His voice was calm, but there was a seriousness to it that made her chest tighten.

“Hey,” she said softly, looking between them. “What’s going on?”

Lee Know straightened, stepping closer. “We’ve been talking, and we think it’s time we figure out where we all stand.”

Her heart sank. “I… I’m still not ready to choose,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We know,” Seungmin said, his tone gentle. “That’s why we’ve come up with a different idea.”

Y/N frowned, her gaze darting between them. “What do you mean?”

Lee Know glanced at Seungmin before speaking. “We’ve decided to stop pressuring you to choose between us. Instead… we’re willing to share.”

She blinked, sure she had misheard. “What?”

“We’re giving you the choice to spend time with both of us,” Seungmin explained. “No more arguments, no more fighting. You don’t have to feel like you’re stuck in the middle.”

Y/N stared at them, her mind reeling. “You’re serious?”

Lee Know nodded. “We talked about it. And while it’s not ideal for either of us, it’s better than making you feel like you’re being torn apart.”

Her breath caught as she processed their words. She couldn’t deny that part of her felt relieved they were giving her space to figure things out without the added pressure of making an immediate decision. But another part of her felt uneasy.

“What if this doesn’t work?” she asked hesitantly.

Seungmin’s expression softened. “Then we deal with it when the time comes. But we think it’s worth trying, for your sake.”

Y/N looked down at the ground, her emotions swirling. She had never imagined this kind of arrangement, but knowing they were willing to put aside their rivalry for her made her chest ache with a strange mix of gratitude and guilt.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” Lee Know said, his voice gentler than she had ever heard it. “Just think about it. We’ll give you the time and space you need.”

She nodded, still unsure how to feel. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

Seungmin gave her a small smile. “That’s all we’re asking.”

Lee Know stepped closer, his gaze locking with hers. “Just know that we both care about you, Y/N. And we’re willing to do whatever it takes to make this work.”

Her heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice, and for a moment, she felt the weight of their emotions pressing down on her.

As they walked her home that evening, the uneasy truce between them held. But Y/N couldn’t help wondering how long it would last and what it would mean for all of them moving forward.

The next morning, Y/N woke up with a headache. Sleep had been elusive, her mind consumed by the conversation with Seungmin and Lee Know. Their proposal played over and over in her head like a looping film.

Share them?

The idea felt surreal, almost absurd. But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. She cared deeply for both of them—she couldn’t deny that. Seungmin had been her rock for years, a constant in her life who knew her inside and out. And then there was Lee Know, who had quietly slipped into her heart with his relentless devotion and tender moments.

She groaned, rolling over in bed and staring at the ceiling. This wasn’t how love was supposed to work. Love was supposed to be simple—two people, one connection. But somehow, her heart had made room for both of them, and now she was faced with a choice she wasn’t ready to make.

By noon, she was pacing her room, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The idea of seeing them both, of not having to make an immediate decision, felt like a lifeline. But it also felt like walking a tightrope, one wrong step away from disaster.

Her phone buzzed on the desk, breaking her thoughts. She hesitated before picking it up, her breath catching when she saw the message.

Seungmin: No pressure, but have you thought about what we talked about?

Almost immediately, another message popped up.

Lee Know: Hey, just checking in. Hope you’re doing okay.

Y/N stared at the messages, her chest tightening. They were giving her space, just as they had promised, but she could feel their emotions lingering between the lines.

Taking a deep breath, she typed out a reply.

Y/N: Can we meet at the park? I’ve made my decision.

Her heart pounded as she hit send, the weight of her choice sinking in.

An hour later, she stood by the swings, waiting for them. The crisp autumn air nipped at her cheeks, but she barely felt it, her nerves keeping her warm.

Seungmin arrived first, his expression calm but his eyes searching hers. Lee Know appeared moments later, his usual confidence softened by what looked like worry.

“So?” Seungmin asked gently, breaking the silence. “What’s your decision?”

Y/N took a deep breath, her hands gripping the hem of her sweater. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you both said. And… I want to try this. Sharing time with both of you.”

Lee Know blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise. Seungmin raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable.

“I know it’s not conventional,” Y/N continued quickly, her words tumbling out. “But I care about both of you, and I don’t want to hurt either of you. This… this feels like the only way to figure things out without losing someone I love.”

There was a beat of silence before Lee Know’s lips curved into a small smile. “So, you’re saying you want both of us?”

“Don’t make it weird,” Y/N said, her cheeks flushing.

Seungmin chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s definitely weird, but… if this is what you want, I’ll try.”

Lee Know nodded, his gaze softening. “Same. For you, I’ll try.”

Relief washed over her, and for the first time in days, she felt like she could breathe again.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, looking between them. “Both of you.”

As the three of them walked away from the swings together, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of hope. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but it was theirs.

And for now, that was enough.

She kisses them both on the cheek and they both smile and blush.

Weeks passed, and to Y/N’s surprise, the unconventional arrangement began to work. She had worried endlessly about how Seungmin and Lee Know would manage to coexist, let alone get along, but the two of them had exceeded her expectations.

At first, there were small gestures of compromise. Seungmin stopped throwing passive aggressive remarks Lee Know’s way, and Lee Know refrained from his usual smug grins whenever Y/N chose to spend time with him. They had even started talking short conversations at first, usually about her, but over time, their interactions grew less tense and more natural.

The three of them developed an great relationship . Y/N divided her time evenly, and both boys respected the boundaries they’d set. What surprised her most was how much Seungmin and Lee Know seemed to enjoy each other’s company when they weren’t focused on her.

One sunny afternoon, the three of them were at the park, sprawled out on a large picnic blanket under the shade of a tree. Y/N had brought sandwiches and snacks, and the boys had brought their usual banter.

“Okay, but you have to admit, my dog is better trained than your cat.” Seungmin said, smirking at Lee Know as he reached for a bag of chips.

“Better trained?” Lee Know scoffed. “Your dog couldn’t even sit still when we went to the café last week. Dori would never embarrass me like that.”

Y/N laughed, watching them bicker. It was strange how normal this had become sitting between them, watching their playful arguments, feeling the peace that had settled over their dynamic.

“She’s probably sick of us talking about pets,” Seungmin said, turning to Y/N with a teasing smile. “Right?”

“Not at all,” she said, grinning. “I’m just waiting to see who wins.”

“It’s obviously me,” Lee Know said confidently, leaning back on his hands. “Dori is a model citizen.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Seungmin replied with a chuckle.

As the afternoon went on, Y/N found herself marveling at how far they had come. A month ago, the idea of Seungmin and Lee Know sharing anything, let alone a girlfriend, would have been laughable. But now, they were sitting side by side, teasing each other like old friends.

Later, as they walked back to her house, Seungmin and Lee Know fell into a discussion about soccer, their voices animated as they debated the skills of different players. Y/N trailed behind them, her heart swelling at the sight.

For the first time in weeks, she felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

[keiizzx]

Pairing: OT8 x reader

Tags: bodyguard!ot8, idol!reader, slowburn, fluff, angst, eventual smut

Summary: after an attemted break in and recieving treats, your manager decides you need more bodyguards. Four of them go undercover as part of your team, while the other four will rotate as your bodyguards. At first you try to escape them and resist their charms, but that only lasts for so long..

❤︎ chapter one -> coming soon

❤︎ chapter two -> coming soon

❤︎ chapter three -> coming soon

more to follow!

a/n: welcome to my newest series! I'm sooo excited to write and share this with you all! Big shout out to @staylovesmiley for helping me brainstorm ♡

Taglist is open!

[keiizzx]

THE BREAK UP BUSINESS — EP. 1

[ an advent calendar series ]

— contains adult content, minors do not interact 🔞 —

[ abstract ]: He breaks up relationships, professionally. Lee Minho is the man people call when they wanna end things with their (not so) better half but don’t have the guts to do it. But this Christmas time everything changes, when he receives an offer from his former best friend and college roommate who needs desperate help to break up with his fiancée—you. However, this complicates everything. After all, you’ve been the only person that’s ever made Minho believe that true love might actually exist. So, what happens when you take the delivered message about the break up not so well and Minho—feeling guilty—offers you a place to stay, all while pushing away the feelings he’s had for you for years?

[ general ]: minho + fem reader, childhood friends/enemies → lovers, non idol au, best friend’s ex, demisexual reader, angst + fluff + smut, sunshine x grumpy, she falls first but he falls harder

[ warning ]: break up, mention of infidelity

[ words ]: 2.6K

[ note ]: here’s the first part for my advent calendar series! I hope you guys enjoy. The huge excitement when I announced my story made me so happy (but also nervous ngl) so: enjoy! And let me know what you thought about the first episode by commenting, reblogging or sending an ask my way 🩵

[ !! ]: the beautiful dividers are from @saradika-graphics

Minho decides to not hit the snooze button yet another time, when the alarm starts ringing once more. What a start of the week. He desperately would have needed another hour of having his eyes closed but there’s no minute left for that.

Sitting upright on his king sized bed, he swings his feet to the ground and gets up. When he finally blinks a few times and takes in his surroundings, he notices the red leather purse that’s placed on his huge sofa in his studio apartment.

”You’re still here, Tanya?” he asks, hearing his own voice echo into the distance.

There she is, already freshly styled and in a new outfit, reaching for her bag, “What do you mean, Min?”

She looks confused. Like she usually does when Minho asks weird questions like this. They’ve been dating for some time, so why is he speaking as if he wants to get rid of her?

“I’ve got a work appointment in less than an hour. I should get going. I wasn’t aware you’d stay here for so long,” he tries to save his ass but only makes it worse.

The blonde woman scoffs, “So, what? Am I an inconvenience for you? Good morning to you too, Lee.”

She grabs her jacket, already on the way to the door.

“Shit—wait, that’s not what I meant. It came off weirdly, I’m sorry. You mean so much to me,” Minho replies, running after her, as he reaches for Tanya’s hand.

She raises one of her eyebrows. “How much?”

“Very much,” he instantly replies. Because that’s the truth. At least he thinks so. He enjoys spending time with that woman, so why make such a huge fuss about it? Isn’t that all that counts?

“So much that you still haven’t introduced me to any of your friends, huh?”

Ouch. Right. 

“I’ve explained it to you…” he says, sounding like a broken record to the woman whose hand he’s gripping onto right now.

“Yeah, Minho. And I’ve been patient,” Tanya starts again. “For way too long. I can’t do this situationship type of thing. You’re a great guy and I thought it was worth it to give it a try despite your commitment issues–“

“I don’t have–“

She sighs, “Are you lying to yourself now?”

“Sorry,” he says, his voice dropping quiet.

“That’s all you ever say, Minho. That you’re sorry. But your actions don’t show it. Last night was the last chance I gave you,” she explains to him.

He looks at her bewildered, not quite getting it. Now Minho is the confused one. “Last chance? I wasn’t even aware of that.”

Tanya chuckles, “That’s always what it’s like with you men. You didn’t see it coming.” She takes a deep breath. There’s no bad blood there, but she’s tired of it. “I’m not mad at you—maybe a bit, for wasting my time. Which is why I have to go. But I hope if you find the woman that’s worth fighting for so that you will man up and do so.”

“Tanya– wait!”

“Don’t. Have a nice day,” is what she says, her voice gentle, before Minho hears his front door close.

Fucking hell. What a start of the week. It’s only Monday. Minho pushes the sadness and all his feelings away, as he’s done for the past 26 years. Even though he just ended something that could have become so serious if he didn’t have those commitment issues. He’s gotta get himself together—there are a bunch of customers waiting for him, ready to get what they ordered.

So, that’s the irony, to explain a bit of context here. Minho basically has turned his weakness into his passion and career. Similar to Batman—but whereas the rich superhero saves the city, Minho basically destroys it. Okay. That’s a bit harsh. He only breaks hearts, professionally.

What does that mean?

Well, Minho works for a company that does the dirty jobs no one wants to do. They’re the ones you call when you—for whatever reason—aren’t able to end a relationship on your own. Minho will do it for you—visit your (still) significant other, deliver that message to them, offer a bit of empathy, and go to the next appointment.

He’s been doing this for a little over two years now, after he’s decided to start all over again and it’s going great. Minho is the most successful in his team, ending a couple of relationships per day. Seoul is a big city and there seem to be a lot of unhappy people that would rather have someone else send those awful news than do it themselves.

Jokes aside—there are situations in which it’s better for safety reasons to call a professional like Minho. The Break Up Business (they could have been a little more creative there) will also do the aftercare. A huge basket full of chocolate, awful romantic movies on DVDs (retro), tissues and whatever one asks for to get them through the next stage of their life.

It’s already noon and time for his lunch break, when Minho has saved a woman out of the claws of her possessive (now ex) boyfriend, called out a serial cheater and ended a relationship between two more couples that just didn’t know how to communicate.

When he’s done with his caesar salad and the iced americano, he receives a call from his boss.

“What is it?” he asks, listening to the man at the other side of the speaker.

“I’ve got another spontaneous job for you. I’ll send you the address, alright?”

That’s also how it’s gonna be sometimes. Usually, Minho meets the part of the relationship who wants to end things first, discussing everything with them. However, from time to time, there might be a job that one of his colleagues has already started and for schedule reasons he needs to finish it. It’s less work but also a bit more complicated to really get into a case this way. But he's gonna ace it anyway.

Minho takes a quick glimpse at the information and data his boss sent him, when he notices something. Weird. He’s heard of that street before. He remembers that his former best friend thought about moving there and even visited an apartment for sale.

Why is he remembering this?

Well, Minho has always compared himself to Hyunwoo ever since they became roommates in college. The slightly older one used to be way more charismatic, bringing home women after women, while still succeeding and being year’s best in school.

Minho has never had issues with that life—he’s kind of become this way nowadays too, having strangers sleeping in his bed over and over again—but a very certain detail makes his stomach do a little twist.

Chill the fuck out. It’s just the same street. This doesn’t mean that Hyunwoo is the customer.

Until he reads further.

Customer: Choi Hyunwoo

Fucking hell. The thing is—it wouldn’t be much of an issue if his former roommate didn’t start a relationship with a very certain someone. A person whose heart  Minho does not want to break. After all, they destroyed his own little feelings years ago, without even knowing.

You.

The only woman he’s ever loved, cherished, imagined a serious future with. Until she decided to go out with his roommate instead because Minho was too much of a coward to be straightforward and honest when he knew he had the chance.

Shit. First Tanya breaks up with him and now a person from season 3 of his life returns to season 5. This can’t be real. And it’s only Monday.

And when Minho reads further, all his assumptions turn out to be true.

Partner: Y/L/N Y/N

He can’t do this. He can’t deliver a message of heartbreak to you. But Minho also has never cancelled a job offer. This would look very bad and he knows his boss has high expectations especially when it comes to him.

Minho knew this was gonna come back and bite him in the ass one day.

When he reaches your apartment building, luckily the door downstairs is opened, so he can just crawl up the stairs and get ready for his misery. The irony yet again. You are the one who’s gonna have their life changed in less than a minute and Minho is projecting it onto himself. But it’s the first time it feels as if he’s actually breaking up with someone and not just delivering a message.

The door swings open and he notices your smile fade away the second you see him. Gosh. You look even prettier than two ago when he last saw you. You’ve got your hair and nails done all prettily, wearing one of those illegally tight skirts that would make him go crazy even back in college.

Minho and you have known each other for a long time, getting way back to middle school, which makes his emotional attachment to you worse. Especially since that man has commitment issues and this is a foreign terrain for him.

“W-What do you want?” you ask. No hello, no greetings. But he doesn’t blame you. After all, you ended things on not so good terms.

“I’m…” he begins, his words getting caught in his throat. Shit. This has never happened to him. He’s so utterly nervous. “Can I come in?”

“Why?” you ask, looking at him confused, “Hyunwoo is at work, he won’t be back until the evening hours.”

Yeah I know. I read his case file. He’s already got someone else to stay the night with that’s been going on for some months but I’m gonna spare you the details.

“It’s… not related to him,” Minho lies.

And then, suddenly, your whole demeanour shifts.

“Shit. Did something happen? Something with your mum?”

Fuck. The fact that you’re instantly getting worried about his family makes him feel like an even bigger asshole. Why the hell is he doing this to you?

But it’s his job. He’s got no choice.

“Can I come inside?” he asks, ignoring your questions.

“S-Sure.” You let him in and tell him to sit down on the couch in the huge living room. “Can I offer you something to drink?”

“It’s fine, thanks,” he declines.

Your apartment is beautiful, although a little pretentious but he knows Hyunwoo’s taste a lot.

“So, what’s with mum?” you ask now, referring to his mother. But you’re close to her too—after all she’s best friends with your mum—since Minho and you have known each other for over ten years.

“Nothing. I’m here for something else,” he admits.

“W-What is it then? Minho, you’re starting to scare me…”

He throws his head back, showing off his adam’s apple and it does something unholy to you that you’re way too ashamed to admit.

“I’m here because of Hyunwoo,” he confesses.

“I told you he isn’t there,” you state, looking at him confused. God, can all women stop looking at him like this?

“I know. I’m delivering a message from him,” he starts again.

“What are you now? A pigeon? I don’t understand this,” you try to handle the situation with humour.

“I work for a company called The Break Up Business and people call us if t-they want to end their relationship. I’m here to tell you that Choi Hyunwoo doesn’t want to be with you anymore,” he runs over his own words, blurting them out as fast as he can. Usually, he’s much more charismatic with that.

“What? Are you kidding me? It’s not even April Fools day,” you tell him.

“I’m sorry.”

You scoff, “No, you’re not, Minho. You’ve actually never been sorry for anything in your life. I know you too well for this.”

Ouch. That hurt. Although you might be right.

He reaches for a package that’s placed beside him, “I can offer you a basket filled with–“

“Shove that up your ass, Lee.” You laugh in his face because what else are you supposed to do?  “Why the hell are you the one delivering that message? Why can’t Hyunwoo end things like an adult with me?”

You’re not gonna break my heart again. I’m over you. That’s why I started dating your roommate in the first place.

“Fucking shit, six months before the wedding. What a prick,” you sigh, speaking to yourself but you know that Minho is still listening. It’s probably part of his job. What a weird career path he’s chosen there. He might as well have ended up on a reality TV show instead.

“We offer–“ he starts but immediately gets interrupted.

“I don’t care, Minho. I’m not in a state to function right now, as you can see. I’m sure you’re familiar with these things, regarding you’re doing this professionally. I didn’t know you’d become so low.”

Ouch. That was personal. That was some hidden resentment that’s bubbling up like a volcano from within. But Minho is used to way worse reactions—objects being thrown his way, being yelled at until his ears hurt, having to call the police in a few cases.

“I understand that you’re angry. You’ve got every right to be,” is what he says—a typical customer service phrase that won’t get him in any legal trouble but serve the bare minimum of fake-empathy.

“Did he even give a reason?”

He realises now—that’s the first time you’re actually asking for details on the break up. So far, you’ve complained about Minho talking to you or Hyunwoo’s timing but not the situation itself.

“He did. He’s found someone else,” Minho states, telling you what he’s read in the case file.

“Cool. Cool. Cool. Yeah, no doubt. Kinda saw that coming, but I’ve always been blind I guess,“ you say, pushing your glasses a little higher on your nose.

“Again, I am really sorry. If you ever need help or someone to talk to–“

“That someone is definitely not you,” you spit back.

Minho takes a deep breath, pressing the palms of his hands together. “We have professionals. Here’s a list of phone numbers and mail addresses you can contact,” he says, handing you a piece of paper.

“Okay,” is all that makes it past your lips. “Can you please go now? I need to pack my shit and see where I’ll be staying the night.”

“Right,” he says, handing you another sheet, “we’ve booked a hotel room for you. You can stay there for the next night and then you’re asked to leave the apartment since it’s under Choi Hyunwoo’s name.”

Minho sounds like a robot.

He’s never thought he’d break your heart some day. But Minho is blatantly unaware of the fact this isn’t the first time this has happened. After all, you wouldn’t be in a position like this if he made the right decisions a few years ago.

“I’ll… I’ll see you again tomorrow, for another appointment regarding the moving out process,” your former childhood frenemy informs you.

“You’re gonna be there too? So your company does everything to ruin people’s lives?”

Nothing new for Minho and you. After all, he’s the one who was constantly picking fights and annoying you during middle and high school, then became friends with you in college just to walk out of your life again. You’re used to it by now.

“We will help you find a place to stay. You don’t have to take that offer. But we’re here,” he explains.

“Oh, I will. You’re the one who put me in this situation so you’re gonna find a solution for me.”

And perhaps there’s a slight chance that you want him to stay in your life for a day longer now that he’s back.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Minho announces, before he leaves the apartment.

When he’s out the door, he feels tears pricking on his lower lashline. Fuck. He should have just told his boss to give that case to someone else.

But on the bright side—he’s got you back. You’re single. He’s single.

What if–

Shit, slow down. You wouldn’t give him a chance anyway, right?

© leeknowsallyoursecrets 2024 — copying, stealing or translating my work is prohibited

[keiizzx]

Want So Bad - Prelude

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ warnings ! : minor injuries

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ chapters : prelude, chapter 1, chapter 2 , chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5

𐙚˙⋆.˚ chapter rating : PG

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ pairing ! : poly!minsung x f!reader

"Holy shit," it's a man, he must be behind you, the faint sloshing accompanied by the sound of wet footsteps can be heard through the ringing in your ears, "are you okay? You took quite a fall!"

Nervous was an understatement. Whatever you seemed to feel made your heart skip beats, honestly, you weren't ruling out the possibility that you are having a heart attack. You continue to place one foot in front of the other like your life depends on it. You have to get to the doctor's office. The walk - more like frantic jog - is anything but pleasant, the clouds above pouring rain onto your awaiting self, too hasty to grab an umbrella or tie your shoes.

You can only blame yourself for what happens when you step on your shoelace, falling forward, straight onto your face. All the air is knocked from your lungs and your ears start to ring all while rain drizzles onto your back. The pavement is rough under your body, no one in their right mind would be out right now, not with how it is storming. The discomfort really begins to set in, the wet clothes paired with the rough concrete and the ache in your chest all mix together to confirm that in fact there is something worse than being awoken by getting a charlie horse.

Sharp eyes, that's what you immediately notice, sharp brown eyes, he has a sharp nose as well, black well kept hair. He doesn't smile, only slightly grins when he sees that you are moving. He isn't soaked like you are. He holds an umbrella over his head, and both his shoes are double knotted. "Can you get up?"

Why didn't your chest hurt anymore, and why did everything just seem suddenly fine. The words are knocked from your mind, but apparently, you speak because the man is pulling you up. "The campus doctor's office is closed, it's a Saturday," he's so monotone when he speaks to you it is almost sobering, yet you're still so intoxicated for some strange reason.

What a stupid ass thing to say to someone who fell and isn't moving. As the man gets closer, you can almost pinpoint his identity. You're positive you've heard his voice before.

"My name is Minho," he is pulling you onto your feet, the feet of the same legs that feel as though they'll give out at any moment, "c'mon we need to get you inside, you can come to my dorm, it's just there," he points to his dorm hall and your legs nearly buckle together.

It hurts to speak when you realize that you can, "w-what?"

You feel a hand pressing on the small of your back. You can feel the warmth through your soaked sweater. The harsh grip on your arm startles you. Somehow, you find the strength to lift up your head and face whoever is touching you.

Normally you'd never go to a stranger's dorm, especially not that of a man, you were too smart to take that risk, but it feels like you've known Minho for years.

He is quick to catch you despite the best efforts of your knocking knees, not letting you crash and burn twice in one day. "Okay, okay, up, up, up, there you go, atta girl."

He assists your walking the best that he can. He lets you lean on him as you hobble to his dorm house.

The halls of the dorm house are cold, almost sterile-like. "There, second room on the right," Minho speaks to you.

In stark contrast to the hallway, his room is inviting, warm, and cozy. A boy is sitting at a desk, "Jisung-ah!" Minho calls out to the boy, "help me clean her up. She fell in the rain."

[keiizzx]

CHAPTER 6 ~ CALM BEFORE THE STORM

beneath a crimson sky masterlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6

pairing: stray kids ot8 x afab!reader

genre: apocalypse au, dystopian, dark, adventure, action, thriller, fighting, eventual smut, romance

a/n: apologies for the sparse updates i swear i'm still alive, icl i have beef with this chapter in terms of characterisations but the next chapter is my lil baby so yall can look forward to that

chapter warnings: large amounts of crying, swearing, panic attacks, mentions of mind control, for some reason i really like The Hello Kitty Blanket, not much else but i probably forgot at least 1 thing

chapter word count: 3.6k

When you wake, you are lucid. Too lucid, it seems, because you recall your dreams with such clarity that you throw up, emptying the meagre contents of your churning stomach into a bucket someone had handily placed by your side. You do not want to believe what you’ve seen, so you chalk it down to the fever.

It’s early in the morning, and Jisung lies propped up against the wall beside the makeshift bed the boys must have made you, heavily asleep, a half full bottle of water held loosely in his hands. You manage to heave yourself upright, and it’s only then that you notice the rope tied loosely around your wrists and ankles, tied to the foot of the centrifuge and tethering you down.

Your stomach twists. Felix. You hurt Felix.

And yet, Jisung snores peacefully beside you. There is a calm in his slumbering face, a tranquility. He feels safe to sleep beside you, and no one has deigned to disturb him from his position - then, they don’t blame you, nor do they fear you.

Hesitantly, almost expecting your body to disobey your orders, you reach out and pluck the bottle from his grasp, taking careful sips until it’s finished. With a glance behind you, you notice Jeongin has sat up, rubbing his eyes, and that Chan is making his way towards you. He looks a little paler than before, and the semicircles beneath his eyes are darker.

You cannot imagine for the life of you why they have stayed and looked after you.

Unbidden, a smile finds its way onto your face as he approaches, and it widens when he returns it, his dimples appearing in his cheeks. Relief is clear on him, in the slight sag of his shoulders and release of tension in his brow, as if a heavy load has been lifted from him.

“Hey,” he whispers, crouching beside you, eyes bright and hope filled as he unties you. “I knew you would make it.”

“Chan,” you say, and suddenly your voice and smile are wobbly.

You reach out your hand, simply intending to grab ahold of his hoodie and remind yourself that you’re fine now, that they didn’t leave you even though they should have, but he goes one step further and engulfs you in his arms. Breath shaky, you close your eyes, holding onto him as tightly as you can.

Chan is warm and solid, and he smells ridiculously like clean laundry despite the fact that none of you have gone near a washing machine in weeks. It feels as if he is keeping you whole, as if you might crumble apart if he lets go. You squeeze your eyes shut and breathe him in.

You’re able to find your voice once your face is hidden in the safety of his shoulder. “Did I hurt anyone?”

“No,” he says, and you can’t tell if he’s lying or not. “You were pretty weak when that stage set in.”

You nod, trying to find words. “How - how long was I out?”

“Just under a week.”

Your jaw drops. “A week?”

“Yeah,” he says. “The next ship hasn’t landed yet. We met three guys looking for the rest of their group. The leader - his name was Hongjoong - has dubbed it the Reprieve. I just think it’s the calm before the storm.”

You blink. “You talked to someone? Were any of them sick?”

Getting to his feet, Chan shakes his head. “I don’t think anyone has been since the first horseman’s ship took off.”

Grabbing his hand, you stop him. “Thank you, Chan. You - you didn’t have to put yourself or the boys in danger for me, but you did, anyway.”

“I did what I’d do if it happened to any of us,” he says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world to him.

You’re about to reply, but you’re cut off by a drawn out gurgle from your stomach. Chan chuckles, his dimples appearing again. He is so bright, so clear, that it is hard to believe the shadows could even survive while he was there.

“I’ll get you some food in a second,” he grins. “Minho, Changbin, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin and I are going out on a supply run. We don’t know how long the Reprieve will last so we’re going to try and stock up as much as possible in case we need to hole up when the second horseman comes.”

Briefly, you consider volunteering yourself too, but although you feel healed, you’ve been out for the last week and you need to rest. No doubt Chan would refuse to let you come along, anyway - he hands you a can of pasta shapes drowning in synthetic tasting tomato sauce, and you scarf it down while the lab begins to fill with life as the others wake up.

Felix bounds over and hugs you, followed closely by Hyunjin. You scan the former’s face for any signs of fear or hurt, but he beams at you, and your soul feels a warmth it hasn’t in a long time. There’s a beauty in his smile that is so hard to come by, now.

All of the boys greet you once they’ve woken up, even Minho, who kind of just stares at you like he can’t believe you’re alive. You don’t blame him. Hope is rising in your chest, the same way it shines in Jisung’s eyes when he jerks awake to see you conscious and radiates from Jeongin’s smile, because despite it all, you survived Pestilence, and if you survived the first horseman, maybe there’s a chance you’ll all be able to live through the next ones.

The hope rises so high that you dismiss your fever dreams. It lingers, wonderfully so, and rests on you, Hyunjin and Jisung after the others go out on the supply run, filling the three of you with bubbling laughter as the hours pass.

And then, abruptly, it falls short.

The sun is setting, painting the already red sky redder, and the others do not return. They do not come bustling through the door, laden with plastic bags full of supplies. Their voices do not echo down the street as they make their way back to the lab.

There are plenty of reasons they could have been delayed. They could be lost, or maybe they met that guy called Hongjoong again, yet you can’t help but feel the sinking feeling of despair re-enter your chest, when before you’d been so light and happy and hopeful. Hyunjin stares down at his lap and picks nervously at his cuticles. You glare worriedly out the window, tapping your foot on the floor.

Jisung begins to hyperventilate.

Immediately, you scoot over until you sit on the floor beside him. He’s rocking back and forth, his hands clenched into fists so hard that you know his nails must be digging painfully into his skin. His worry is contagious, settling in your bones and creeping into the back of your mind, armed with doubt.

Hyunjin is frozen where he is sat, and for a terrible, mind numbing moment, you feel painfully out of your depth - you know you could fight to protect him, but this is not something you know how to deal with. Minho or Chan would know what to do, not you.

Still, you prise his hands open so you can hold them. Positioning yourself so he can feel the press of your front against his back, you grip him tight enough for him to stop rocking. You tell yourself that the others will come back, repeating those words like a mantra, and even though you cannot fully deceive yourself, it steadies you nonetheless.

“Breathe with me,” you command, in a voice that leaves no room for arguing - a voice that sounds just like Chan’s.

Jisung’s breathing stutters, his chest heaving with the effort of it, but he fights to obey you, and you hold him close to you, grounding him even when his grasp on your fingers begins to sting with how hard he squeezes them. His trembling begins to ease up, and you loosen your arms on him, but he grips onto your wrist, keeping you wrapped around him. Carefully, you stroke his hair, keeping your breathing slow and deliberate.

“I’m here,” you soothe. “Jinnie’s here as well, okay?”

He twists in your arms so he can face you. Tears have tracked down his cheeks, and you wipe them away with your thumbs, a tight ache developing in your chest when his face crumples and he hides himself in your embrace again. Hyunjin shuffles over, resting his head on your shoulder and stroking a hand down Jisung’s back. You realise he’s shaking too.

“What if the next wave starts and they’re out there?” Jisung asks quietly.

“We’d have seen the ship coming down,” you tell them firmly, pushing back flashes of your dreams that crowd your head. “It’s not over yet.”

Hyunjin nods against your shoulder, a little sniffle escaping him. You wrap an arm around his shoulder and bring him a little closer, resting your chin on his head. The three of you stay like that for a while, tangled together as you listen to the sound of your heartbeats; there is a tension filling the lab not unlike the tightness in the air before rainfall, and you attempt to tamp down your worries, keeping them to yourself when the sky becomes the darker than the deepest of red wines and stars begin to wink to life.

This is the calm before the storm. You’re just afraid that your own, more personal storm might have arrived before the big one.

“I hate them,” Jisung announces after a while, and his arms tighten around you.

“The aliens?” You ask.

He nods. “I don’t care if they hear. I hope they hear - I hope they know I hate them for what they’ve taken from us.”

He has raised his head from where it was resting on your shoulder, and there is a fire in his eyes that you have not seen before, paired with pain woven through with a bitter sort of determination - the type derived from spite, the dogged tenacity to survive. A lump grows in your throat. You pull him close again, burying your face in his hair so he and Hyunjin don’t see the tears welling at your lash line.

You hate the aliens too. You hate them for their fucking games and stupid horsemen, you hate the way they’ve invaded your sky, you hate that they have broken millions of hearts and torn families apart. And now, if the others don’t come back, another family will have been lost.

The waiting makes you feel helpless. Restless, you pace circles in your mind, wondering whether you should go out and search for them, but that would leave Jisung and Hyunjin alone, and the next horseman could arrive at any time. You want something to do, something to put your mind off the worry, but there is nothing. All you can do is pull the two of them closer to you and soothe them with hollow words.

You’re about to suggest trying to eat something when the sound of footsteps approaches. You’re all on your feet in seconds, hurtling to the door, and before you can think to caution him, Hyunjin has shoved it open and looks out with wild hope bright in his eyes.

It’s dark outside. You can see silhouettes making their way towards you, their heads bowed tiredly, and though you can’t see their faces, you know for sure now - it’s not over yet. It won’t ever be over, as long as you’re all together and breathing.

Jisung sprints out into the street and hurls himself right into Minho’s arms.

You slump against the doorframe, relief swamping any anger you felt at them for coming back so late. Minho has dropped his bags and is gripping Jisung tight, his nose buried in the younger man’s hair, eyes squeezed closed - the sight is poignant enough to make your vision blur with unshed tears, vanquishing the tension that had been pervading your body for the last few hours. You step into Felix’s arms, your knees feeling as if they may give out any second.

“What happened?” You breathe out, sheltering in his embrace.

“There were dogs,” he replies, patting your back soothingly. “We were stuck balancing on top of a food shelving unit until they got bored and left. I’m sorry, we came back as fast as we could.”

You almost find it in you to laugh. All that worry, while the boys were camped out on the top shelf, waiting for animals that used to be beloved pets to lose interest in them. It feels as if you should take it as a warning, a reminder that you should take nothing for granted, but it fills you with a vicious triumph instead - they came back, and that’s what matters.

You squeeze him hard enough that he squeaks. “Don’t be sorry. Just, I was - we were scared. Shitless. Don’t ever do that again, you fucker.”

He laughs, and suddenly, with that bright sound ringing sweetly through the air, everything is alright again.

Everything continues to be alright until, a few hours later, you all decide to sleep, and though you are not alone as you once were, the dreams still come.

Snatches of laughter echo in your ears. Grasping, shadowy fingers tear at your hair and clothes. A blonde woman and a bronze skinned man, reduced to nothing but puppets, command swathes and swathes of survivors.

Reaping more than should ever be taken, great slaughter and boundless hunger ravages the land. There is only endless falling, like you are trapped in the vast pull of a black hole.

Eventually, you wrest yourself from the visions' claws.

Panting, sweat breaking out all over your skin in sharp prickles, you sit up, kicking the blanket off you. You pause for a moment, listening. Tonight is a rare night where Chan is actually asleep - his breathing is deeper and far slower than it is when he lies with his eyes closed, pretending. He is still next to you, frighteningly so, and you wish you could not so easily imagine him lifeless beside you.

Moonlight bleeds from the crack in the blinds, alighting on Hyunjin’s shoulders and spilling from them like a crimson cloak. His head is bent towards someone else, a slighter figure, with light hair, blonde hair -

She’s here.

And then you realise that the blonde is slightly grown out, that it’s far too glossy and a little too short to be hers. You deflate in relief. It’s just Felix. When he turns his face towards you, you see his sweet eyes and his freckles, and wonder how you could have ever seen his hair and mistaken him for her, even in the near darkness and from across the room.

Felix smiles and beckons you over, and you get up, keeping your footsteps quiet. The two of them have tucked the Hello Kitty blanket around them - a glance over your shoulder reveals that Changbin is now sharing Seungmin’s blanket, tucking himself tight against the younger man’s back, even in sleep. Hyunjin opens the blanket on his side, and you gratefully wedge yourself in.

The lab air is cold and a little biting, as if there aren’t solid walls separating you from outside, but you feel warmed by their actions, by the openness blooming so plainly on both their faces that it makes your heart ache.

“Nightmares?” Felix asks.

Mutely, you nod.

“Do you want to talk about yours?” Hyunjin asks. “Sometimes it helps.”

You blanch. Telling them of your fever dreams feels like speaking truth into them, like giving them the power to become real. There’s a chance that they’re just the substance of your terrified mind, but they have a strange quality to them, like the humming, disastrous tone of a prophecy. Not telling them could be withholding information that might be valuable.

“I had these visions when I was ill,” you blurt, then quieten your voice. “I don’t know if they were visions or dreams. Either way, they showed the next three horsemen.”

Hyunjin sucks in a sharp breath, stiffening beside you. Although he doesn’t say anything, Felix reaches out and squeezes your hand, and you cling to him like he’s your anchor, willing yourself to continue. It is harder than expected to describe what you saw - the images flash before your eyes, the scents and the sounds right in your head, and yet your tongue is stiff in your mouth with fear and dread.

“The one coming now is War. He…” You struggle with your words, wondering how many details are needed. “I think he possessed these two people. They’re supposed to be generals of some sort, maybe. Once he looked at them, they were his.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath. A rustle sounds nearby, like the sound of someone rolling over, and you glance up, aware that your voice had risen and taken on a panicked edge near the end of your sentence. Jeongin is stirring, but soon he relaxes, and you twist the blanket in your fingers, worrying at a loose thread.

“Keep going,” Felix urges.

“The third one is Famine. She was terrible, but beautiful too,” you murmur, unable to meet their eyes. “This one was hazier. I just remember the hunger, so strong that I would have done anything to destroy it. It felt like my body was changing, too, but I think that part was symbolic of something. Like the weighing scales she had.”

“Symbolic, like of the monsters humanity is becoming?” Hyunjin says, the horror clear in his voice.

Swallowing harshly, you press on. “The last was Death. There are blurry parts, parts I can't focus on, like what he said to me, but I remember other bits. Falling. What he looked like. I was - ” Your voice cracks. “ - terrified. That’s the clearest bit. The fear. I was helpless.”

Felix squeezes your hand. “We’ll - we’ll make it through. We’ll survive them.”

You can’t fathom how strong he must be to say that.

“Please don’t tell the others,” you whisper. “In case it’s not true, and it was all just some crazy fever dream. I - I don’t want to scare them. Chan will worry.”

“I agree,” Felix replies. “We don’t know if it’s real.” He squeezes your hand again. “Thank you for telling us.”

“Thank you for listening,” you mumble.

What you really mean is: thank you for staying, thank you for looking after me while I was under Pestilence’s hold, while I went crazy and could have killed or hurt you all. They are insane, for risking their own lives for you, merciful where the end of the world should have hardened their hearts.

Hyunjin is silent. You are too afraid to glance over and look him in the eyes, for fear that you will be condemned by what you will see in them. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, just huddles under the blanket with the rest of you, and you wonder if he hates you for being the bearer of news that could be the death of every person in this room.

You wouldn’t be surprised if that is the case, yet when he finally turns to you, he hugs you tight - tight enough to squeeze all the air out of your lungs, yet it doesn’t suffocate you. It feels like he’s holding you together, just like it did with Chan.

You allow a few of your tears to soak into his shirt before you pull yourself together.

When you raise your head, you realise Hyunjin is crying too, and yet the tears streaking down his cheeks look like war paint. He looks strong, like a warrior prince, and fearsome. Though he weeps, it is the farthest thing from a weakness.

And then he yawns, rubs at his face, and he is just sleepy, Hello-Kitty-blanket-around-his-shoulders Hyunjin again. Still, you see the remnants of that magnificence, and you know that although it has receded, it is as much a part of him as the tired but brave smile he sends you when he catches you looking.

“Shall we go back to sleep?” Felix asks.

You nod, and Hyunjin stands, wiping his eyes and holding the blanket around his neck like a cape. A smile tugs at your lips, and he grins down at you, doing a little twirl - the soft fabric flares out at the bottom, and you duck to avoid getting smacked in the face by it, opening your mouth to tell him that he looks like some sort of Sanrio monarch.

A keen whine splits the air like a guillotine.

The colour drains from Felix’s face, and his eyes dart immediately to the window. Hyunjin freezes. Suddenly, Jeongin is up, and he rolls right out from under the blankets and onto his feet, crossing the room to the window so he can yank the blind open. Baffled, you follow his gaze, and your heart sinks.

It’s a ship. The next horseman is coming.

You haven’t heard the sound of one of their ships before - you’d been delirious - but there’s no doubt left in your mind as one of the dark specks in the sky detaches from the others and arcs towards the ground like a falling star.

The Reprieve is over.

taglist: @estella-novella @0bticeo @lixies-favorite-cookie @smashleywow @realrintaro @extremechaoswarning @4l17h4 @hyunjinsjeans @insufferablyunbearable @lovemepie67 @needsumcomfypillowstosleep @loumin908 @rxlvvrz @iris-iiridescent @brbwritingfanfic @missseoulite @juliettejwnewinesa (let me know if you want to be added)

[keiizzx]

CHAPTER 1 ~ THE SURVIVORS

beneath a crimson sky masterlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6

pairing: stray kids ot8 x afab!reader

genre: apocalypse au, dystopian, dark, adventure, action, thriller, fighting, eventual smut, romance

a/n: i cannot holler enough about how excited i've been to post this

chapter warnings: mentions of suicide, somewhat vividly described sick people, one mildly creepy dude, not a very juicy chapter because ya girl has to set everything up

chapter word count: 4.2k

The day they came, the sky ran red.

Red like cherry candy. Red like blood.

There were no warnings to indicate the end of life as it was. The ceiling of your world - of everyone’s - was its same innocent blue until, irrevocably, it wasn’t. One by one, the things blipped into humanity’s airspace, swarming in like they owned it, and the blue was vanquished, taking the status quo with it.

You were watching through the window of the lab instead of monitoring the cells you’d been culturing. The sound of shattering glass as one of your colleagues dropped something informed you that you were not the only one who wasn’t paying attention to their work; you rushed into the common room, where another colleague was switching to the news channel.

The source of the feeling of impending doom that had clouded your thoughts since that morning was confirmed as your eyes fixed on the screen. Before, you’d chalked it down to procrastination and yearning for the weekend, but as you watched one of the objects in the sky whizz down and make a landing space for itself by demolishing a block of flats with nothing a blast of light and smoke, you realised just where it came from.

Your boss cursed next to you, colourful and far too crude for the workspace.

As you saw what she was seeing on the TV, you decided you’d forgive her.

A previously invisible ramp in the side of what must be a spaceship had opened, and down it came a horse, a white horse, shining and resplendent, and yet the rider was the opposite - sallow faced and gaunt, arms too long and spindly with too thin skin stretching over fragile ribs. Worse was the face: it was all wrong. The nose seemed too high up, the mouth grotesquely wide and smiling.

You wished you could tear your eyes away, but you were transfixed, with the same horrified fascination a child watches a snail wither and shrivel into itself upon encountering salt.

The rider reached back with finger bones like spider’s legs and retrieved an arrow from the quiver on its back. The camera jolted as the cameraman took a step back, and began to shake as its head snapped to the side, its gaze catching on the lens. You recoiled, unadulterated fear rearing in your head, slicing through your thoughts - those eyes, like black holes, like endless hunger, pinned on you as if they could devour you through the screen.

You knew it then. You knew it, as if the thought had been planted in your head, a seed of fear and wrongness. This is your end, you heard, in a voice as black and velvet as night, and with so much depth it was as if there were thousands speaking at once. It cleaved through your head: The first horseman has come.

In a move too powerful and smooth for arms that spindly, the rider shot its arrow, and you saw it fly, so close to the camera you could almost taste the reek of illness as it tore by, burrowing itself into the cameraman's shoulder. The view pitched and fell, lurching towards the red sky before a new angle took its place.

You’d wished it hadn’t. From the new camera, you could see the cameraman who was hit retching and coughing, clutching the arrow buried in his shoulder. It thrummed from the impact, grotesquely sticking out like an extra limb, strange and stiff and now part of him. His torso undulated, convulsing, and he vomited up something big and bloody enough to be an organ onto the road. Behind him, the crowd was backing away, but you already saw the signs of infection - a woman covering her hand with her mouth as a cough wracked her body, a man pressing a palm to his side as his stomach cramped.

The first horseman had come.

Pestilence.

Soon after that, your colleagues began to rush home with wild, frantic eyes. You sat there, frozen, staring at the TV screen that had long since gone blank. Your parents called, their tinny voices breaking up every few seconds - no doubt millions of people were calling their own families all across the world - and told you to stay where you were to avoid infection until the authorities got everything under control.

They were sure it would all turn out alright. You weren’t - you made sure you told them you loved them before hanging up.

Next your sister called, coughing. She’d been working her shift at the hospital when the first horseman struck. There were no cures they could find, no concoctions that worked, no injections or antibodies or anything: they couldn’t even see what was causing the sickness, because the scans showed nothing unusual. Some patients held on longer than others, alive and just showing normal flu symptoms while others died before they could even reach the hospital.

You stayed on the line with her until she lied and told you she’d be alright, making a half assed excuse about feeding the dog so she could hang up.

You knew she just didn’t want you to hear her die.

It felt like cheating - it still feels like that - to be locked up in the lab, enveloped in silence aside from the hollow sound of you breathing and the growl of your stomach, safe while the rest of the world is either dead or collapsed and dying.

You’re beginning to wonder if you’re the last one. Not just because you didn’t glimpse anyone on your brief trips to the petrol station nearby to pilfer food, three masks secured over your face, but because your phone’s dead and the sockets in the lab don’t charge it. Power is down. Water is down, too.

Humanity is on its knees.

Yet still you hope, sitting with your legs tucked to your chest, wedged between the centrifuge and a table that’s set up with a long dead computer. You stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll hear footsteps, wondering when the rustling outside turns out to be a human, not a starving, half diseased fox; there has to be someone - you refuse any other alternative.

You’ve waited for someone to come and rescue you, for the TV to switch back on and a smiling reporter to tell you that it was all some gruesome puppet show put on by some crazy cult, that they’re all in custody and that everyone is fine. That everything is fine. You’ve waited, but no news has come. Still you won’t admit you’re on your own.

You can’t be the last one, and yet it feels that way - like you’re just a solitary, lone heartbeat in a city that used to be full of life, a reluctant survivor drowning in a sea of bodies.

Your head lists to one side, pressing your cheek against the cool metal of the side of the centrifuge so you don’t have to stare down the long space between the lab benches: it’s like being an air stewardess in the aisle of a plane, but the only passengers you have left to inform about safety precautions are the judgemental plastic chairs.

The lab is twice as long as it is wide, with two lab benches against each wall and one free standing one all the way through the middle. Normally, the huge space is a relief, because the previous labs you’ve worked in were at best cramped and at worst sweaty and bereft of air con, but now, it just makes you feel smaller, more alone.

Dim light filters through the gaping side of one of the blinds. For a few days, you kept the blinds open, hoping you’d be able to see if anyone was coming to save you, but you’ve closed them now. Looking out of the glass only ends in seeing bodies on the lifeless pavement outside.

In your dreams, your friends and family slam their hands against the windows, their mouths open in bloody screams, begging you to let them in. Each time, you try, and each time, the door won’t budge. Still, they accuse you, cursing and yelling, saying that you’re a greedy, useless coward.

Sometimes, you agree with them.

Their ships still hover overhead in the crimson sky, as if they’re watching the suffering they’ve caused, rubbing their hands together gleefully while supping on human fear, witnessing with greedy eyes as their first horseman of the apocalypse wipes out everyone - except, apparently, for you.

There’s a strange silence that hangs over the city, as if even the earth is holding its breath. No planes roar overhead, no cars horn in the streets, no trains hiss to a stop in the station - your world has lost its heartbeat. The quiet smothers you, suffocating, reminding you exactly who you are: a survivor, who even when granted luck and life, wishes it was someone else who made it out, someone else who has to shoulder the burden of trying to live in this mess.

To your left, on the table with the computer, there’s a small pile of knives, neatly stacked and ordered in size and sharpness. You took them from the kitchen on day six, the day after the water stopped. You’ve survived them and their temptation for a whole week now, pretending that they’re for your protection, but you’re still all too aware that your life has a timer on it, and there’s an all too easy way to end it early.

You can’t, though. You can’t do it. You tried, but you can’t - you couldn’t even pierce your own weak flesh with the dull steel, nor could you draw blood to stain that same steel the same red as the sky. Some voice within told you that you would be squandering humanity’s last hope at survival and filled you with enough guilt to not touch the knife pile again.

It’s just that you don’t want to be the last hope. You don’t want to be the one who fights valiantly to survive. Undoubtedly, that makes you a coward, for wanting to give in, for allowing things to just happen to you. Your mind won’t let you forget that. Even that is a weakness in itself.

The moment you decided to remain in the lab, not an inkling of a plan in your head, you doomed yourself to an isolated end.

At least if you had left, you wouldn’t have had to die alone.

It’s with that miserable thought that you begin to notice the strange noises. There’s this odd rhythmic thumping, mixed together with these strange scuffling noises and higher register sounds; they shatter the silence that you hate but got used to all the same, interrupting it rudely and irritating you, almost as if the hush had been speaking, you listening avidly to it.

Your heart rate picks up, and you immediately reach for a knife, cocking your head and straining your ears as the noises come closer. Slowly, you realise you know those sounds - the footsteps and voices of people running, people chasing.

A cry leaves you. It comes out strangled and weak, your voice cracking and buckling from lack of use. Your fingers tighten around the handle of the kitchen knife. Suddenly, you feel utterly stupid - there are people out there, surviving, and maybe other people, chasing the survivors but no doubt also trying to stay alive, and here you are, holed up in the place that you used to go for work every day, alternating between sleeping and contemplating death.

Your new found clarity is like lightning in your blood. You leap to your feet as if struck by it, electrified, your breathing quickening as you cock your head, listening harder. Yes, those are voices - human voices, and yes, those are footsteps - human footsteps.

The choice is made the moment it enters your mind.

Still holding the knife, you use your shoulder to barge open the door to the lab, and then the next - the one that contains the little chamber for sterilising before and after entering. You don’t bother to sanitise your hands as you leave. All the organic matter left out by you and your colleagues is long dead.

You’re unsure what you’re going to do once you glimpse the makers of the noise, just that you need to see that there are still humans out there, that all that time you spent thinking you were the last, you weren’t. The insignificance you feel as you hear them approaching is nothing but a relief, a weight off your chest - confirmation that you are not the last hope.

Despite the selfish slant of that thought, your heart jumps. You’re unexpectedly aware that all of your past conclusions are idiotic: a strange, philosophical grave you dug yourself into. The sound of human voices seems to have jolted you out of the madness of it all, of the horsemen and the weight of responsibility that was like rocks in your pockets while you were trying to swim. An almost smile cracks your tired face as you push open the door.

You freeze. This is something you can’t quite get rid of, even in your new-found excitement - the fleeting moment of paralysis when you step foot outside and the sky is neither azure blue or grey and scudding with clouds but red.

It took you at least five trips to take what you needed from the nearby petrol station’s convenience store, yet each time you went from a simple white ceiling to a boundless, crimson sky, you couldn’t help the hesitation that stilled your bones. The sight of it, so bloody and swarming with alien ships, awakens the instincts of a hunted prey within you. Your heart pounds, ready to fight or flee, your legs bending a little as if you could curl into yourself like a frightened mouse hiding from a barn owl.

You know you can’t hide. Worse, you know that they’re watching from their safe little vantage point, embedded in the sky, as you venture out of your stronghold and prison and workplace, holding nothing but a kitchen knife.

You feel stupid all over again.

You’re determined to not let it stop you - instead you push yourself to a jog, mentally berating yourself for not exercising even a little during your stint of self pity in the lab, because your lungs tighten after about fifteen steps, invisible iron bands appearing around your chest and constricting it.

Keeping your eyes ahead of you, you pick your way around a body slumped twenty metres from the lab, face down on the pavement. If you were brave enough, you would close their eyes and arrange them into a respectable position, but you’re terrified that you’ll turn them over and it will be the face of someone you know.

The footsteps are approaching. You can hear individual voices now: muffled cursing, panicked words, and you duck backwards into the shadows cast by the block of flats, the one with the Korean BBQ shop on the ground floor, watching as four men sprint across the open space of the petrol station. More footsteps sound, and your brow furrows, wondering who could be chasing them for them to be running so hard.

They’re all carrying knives. You don’t really notice that, though - you’re busy taking in their dirt smeared, masked faces and the horror in their eyes as they realise they’re backed up against the convenience store, wondering if whatever they’re so worried about means you should just leave them to their fate and run.

A crash sounds. You jump, as do the four men, the two older looking ones pushing the younger ones behind them. The biggest one, dressed in all black and broad in the shoulders, reaches up, one hand brushing over the mask covering the lower half of his face like some sort of nervous tic, his fingers tightening on his knife. Behind him, the tallest pushes so he’s standing in line with the other two, despite the dirty look sent to him by his other companion. The last hurtles into the convenience store, most likely looking for a back exit you know he won’t find.

Hesitantly, you take a step forward, craning your neck to glimpse their attackers, and surprise momentarily nails your feet to the ground.

You expected a horde of monsters eating up the distance towards them, or zombies, or anything inhuman pertaining to the end of the world that would insight the type of panic that reigns in their eyes. It’s nothing of the sort - nothing creeping or crawling or oozing, not even a pack of feral dogs that you heard pass by one night.

They’re humans. Several, maybe a dozen, their faces twisted with anger. But when you look closer, you see the signs of disease: red eyes, sallow faces and emaciated limbs like those of the first horseman.

Worst of all, they don’t look crazy. They look gravely sick, and even more furious, but there is no drool slipping from the corners of their cracked lips, no feverish glint to their eyes, and yet the very marrow of you tells you that this is not normal, human rage. This is something else. This is Pestilence.

Pestilence that will no doubt find you once it wipes out these four men.

You’re closer to them than the sick ones are. The moment you lurch into a sprint from your hiding spot, you know there’s no going back - whether you like it or not, you become one of the survivors, and whether you survive for much longer or not, you’re going to try and help them.

As you cross towards them, your foot splashes through a puddle - a glance confirms that one of the pumps has begun to leak, trailing petrol that has oozed down towards the road and collected by the curb. An idea forms in your mind, and as you run, you yank at the hairband in your hair, tugging it out roughly despite the complaints of your scalp.

“Lighter,” you gasp, skidding to a halt in front of the men. “Give me a lighter. Now.”

The one wearing all black lets out an involuntary shocked noise, his knife arm unconsciously lifting before he lowers it, while the one on his right looks at you distrustfully, scowling. There’s no sign of the last one or a possible lighter he might have - no doubt he’s still looking for an exit through the store, becoming more and more panic stricken as he can’t find one - but the tall one reacts immediately, digging through his pocket and handing you the item he finds.

Your fingers tremble as you fix your hairband around the lighter, making sure it’s tight enough that the button stays down and the flame remains on. It twangs off when you pull it too tight, and you scrabble for it, scooping it off the concrete and trying again, cursing under your breath and praying that you’ll make it out alive long enough to see if the look the scowling one is giving you will actually kill you.

“They’re close,” the one in all black says with an Australian accent. “Really close.”

“I know, I know,” you mutter, fumbling with the hairband.

At last, it snaps into place. Spinning around, you turn and hurl it, launching it through the air. It hits the ground once, and for an awful moment you think you haven’t thrown it far enough, but then it catches the petrol and a roaring wall of flame surges up, so fast that the woman at the front of the mob runs straight into it.

She’s probably still going to die, if her sickness is anything like that which struck down the camera man those weeks ago, but nausea still tugs at your throat, and you look away, paling.

“Holy shit,” someone mumbles.

You turn. The man who they sent into the store to look for an exit has returned, lingering in the doorway as he stares up at the fire. From what it sounds, he’s Australian too, and he’s got lovely freckles, his hair a partially grown out blonde. You glance over at the others to find the scowler and the one in black, who carries himself like a leader, talking to each other quietly as they look at the roaring flames and the pacing figures behind them. It’s clear that the barrier separating you and the sick ones won’t last long.

You make another split second decision. It seems that you’ve become more decisive, since you never used to be this direct, but you guess that’s what the end of the world does: change people, shaping them to improve at survival, for the better or worse of others.

“You can come with me,” you offer. “I know somewhere we can lay low.”

The leader and the scowler exchange a glance. Freckles gives them both a hopeful look, while the tall one looks doggedly at the silhouettes behind the wall of flames as if he can will them away with his gaze, clearly already having made his judgement of you and leaving it up to the other three to decide. Eventually, the scowler gives the leader a curt nod.

The leader holds out his hand. “I’m Chan.”

You shake his hand and introduce yourself, giving him a brief smile.

“I’m Felix,” the freckled one says warmly, then points at the tall one. “That’s Seungmin.”

Seungmin jerks his chin at you. “Hey.”

Felix nudges the scowler. “And this is Minho.”

Minho eyes you like he might rip you apart with his bare hands, his gaze appraising as he looks you up and down, sizing you up as if he might need to take you down at any moment. You don’t miss the way his arms fill out his shirt, nor do you miss the daggers he stares at you.

You look away first, feeling a little intimidated as you gesture half heartedly down the road. “It’s this way.”

“Thank you,” Chan says, flashing you a dimple as you begin to walk. “You saved our lives.”

You frown. “Who were they, anyway?”

“It’s got something to do with the Pestilence from the first horseman,” he replies. “They go crazy when they’re near death.”

You laugh, although it sounds hollow. “I can’t believe this is real. I can’t believe I’m alive right now. I can’t believe you guys are alive right now, either.”

“We’re lucky, for sure,” Felix agrees. “We weren’t near the buildings they collapsed when the army sent the fighter jets, either. Were you close when it happened?”

“I didn’t know,” you confess, shame filling you. “I… I was hiding.”

The words are out before you can stop them. You expect accusatory looks, or even to be called a coward, but they just nod, Chan sighing, sympathy clear on Felix’s face. It lightens something in your heart, makes you realise that despite everything that must have happened to them, they’re still people - people who you’re bringing into your hiding spot.

“I work here,” you explain as you let them in. “Or used to, I guess.”

Chan glances around. “It’s a good place. There aren’t many buildings which are safe or haven’t been broken into.”

“You could stay,” you blurt before you can stop yourself.

It’s stupid, really. They’d never agree. You’d be the one who would benefit the most, gaining people to watch your back, while to them you’d just be another mouth to feed and another body to protect. You do have a life debt on them, but when everyone’s lives are threatened, you suspect life debts don’t mean as much.

Minho’s gaze snaps to you from where it was wandering over the lab. “There are four more of us, you know.”

“And they’re noisy,” Seungmin adds.

Neither of those statements, you realise with a jolt, is a no. You fight to keep your facial expression under control. Your heart pounds - no doubt the cave woman bent on survival that woke up inside you the moment your instincts had to kick in is jumping for joy at the prospect of safety in numbers.

“I’d manage,” you reply, disbelieving. Surely they’re joking. “I wouldn’t mind some company.”

Chan is regarding you with a strange look on his face. You get the impression that he likes taking in strays - because that’s what you are, a stray, hoping to be let inside but far more likely to be shut out, relying on their kindness more than anything. You’re unable to think of any advantages to adding an eighth mouth to feed on top of his own, but you can see he’s weighing something up in his head.

Of course, they could just kill you and shove your body out the front door. For some reason, they haven’t, and now you’re stretching their kindness, possibly thinner than it can go. All the same, Chan is still looking at you, his strong features softened by his curls and the dimple that shows when a little smile tugs at his lips, almost as if he’s already fond of you.

“Why not?”

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