seungminstaehyun

[seungminstaehyun]

WORSHIP.

CHAPTER II

I.N x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Chapter I

Synopsis: In the quiet halls of the church and the secrecy of the night, boundaries are tested, faith is questioned, and desires threaten to consume both you and Jeongin. Some sins are easy to resist—others, once tasted, become impossible to forget. (17,4k words)

Author's note: Hot priest Jeongin returns! Please enjoy this one too and leave a feedback ♡

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are products of my imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Be aware that there are mentions of alcohol addiction and self-harm implicitly.

The church is quiet, save for the distant murmur of prayers and the soft creak of old wooden pews. Outside, the scent of burning incense lingering in the air, wrapping around the sacred space like a whisper of devotion. Candles flicker along the altar, their golden light casting shifting shadows against stained glass, illuminating stories of faith, sacrifice, and redemption.

But in the privacy of his office, Jeongin feels none of that.

The sanctity of the church should be enough to steady him, to remind him of his place, of his duty. And yet, as he stands before you, his pulse thrums unsteadily beneath his skin, loud enough that he wonders if you can hear it too.

You’re still close—so close that he can feel the warmth of your body in the dimly lit space. The air between you is thick, heavy with something unspoken, something dangerous. It coils around him, testing the limits of his restraint, daring him to step over a line he swore never to cross again.

He should say something. He should tell you to leave, that this—whatever this is—has to stop. But his voice betrays him, staying lodged in his throat as his gaze drifts to your lips, remembering the way they felt against his only moments ago.

His mind is a mess, tangled between restraint and desire, faith and something that feels just as powerful. But when he looks at you—at your glassy eyes, at the way your lips part as if searching for something to say—his resolve fractures.

And then, before he can stop himself, he kisses you.

The moment his lips meet yours, Jeongin feels his world shift. It's soft, tentative at first, but the second he feels you respond—your fingers tightening around his, the slight tilt of your head, the way you sigh against his mouth—something deep within him crumbles.

He knows he shouldn’t. He knows this is dangerous, that crossing this line again will only complicate everything further. But with you pressed close, his hands finding their way to your waist, he feels everything else slip away—the church, his vows, the weight of his title. Right now, none of it exists. There is only you.

A part of him waits for guilt to settle in, for the crushing weight of his conscience to pull him back. But it doesn’t come. Instead, all he feels is warmth—the kind he hasn’t allowed himself to feel in so long.

When he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, breaths mingling in the quiet space between you. His hands linger at your sides, hesitant, as if unsure whether to let go or pull you closer.

“This… isn’t right,” he murmurs, but even as he says it, he doesn’t move away.

You don’t answer immediately. Instead, you search his face, as if trying to understand what’s going on inside his head. When you finally speak, your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Then why does it feel like it is?”

Jeongin closes his eyes, exhaling shakily. He doesn’t have an answer. Maybe because part of him agrees. Maybe because, for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t want to fight it.

But wanting something doesn’t make it right.

And yet, as you stand there in the quiet of his office, as he traces the shape of you with his fingertips, Jeongin wonders if maybe—just maybe—this is the one sin he’s willing to commit.

-

Jeongin moves before he can think.

One second, he’s battling the storm inside him, and the next, his hands are on you—grasping, pulling, pressing. Your back meets the bookshelves with a soft thud, the scent of aged paper and ink mixing with the warmth of his breath as his lips crash against yours. It’s desperate, consuming, a kiss that speaks of everything he’s tried to bury.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and he groans against your mouth, his grip tightening on your waist as he presses you further against the shelves. Books shift, a few tumbling to the floor, but neither of you notice. The weight of restraint, of months spent apart, shatters between you.

Then, suddenly, he lifts you—strong hands curling under your thighs as he carries you across the room. The edge of his desk meets your stomach as he turns you, his fingers splaying over your spine, guiding you down. Your breath hitches as he leans over you, his lips trailing along the curve of your shoulder, his hands exploring, worshiping.

As for his hands, they're busy pulling, yanking your underwear down and once it's pooling around your ankle, ha palms your sex, feeling your clit pulsating with every gentle rub of his fingers on it.

The room is silent save for the ragged breaths you share, the faint creak of wood beneath you, and the whispered remnants of his resolve unraveling with every movement.

Here, in the dim glow of his office, Jeongin surrenders. Not to temptation, not to sin—but to the undeniable truth that when he’s with you, he feels whole.

The moment he fully sinks into you, he pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. He hears you breathe in and out, and then suck in a sharp, needy inhale as his hand land on your clit again and begin circling on it. He doesn’t move for several long moments, simply letting you feel his whole length inside you.

His hands grip your hips, fingers pressing into your skin as if to remind himself that you're real—that this moment isn't some fleeting dream. He moves with urgency, with hunger, each motion a confession of everything he's tried to suppress. The need, the longing, the ache of your absence—it all unravels in the way he takes you.

Your body molds against him, meeting every touch, every thrust with the same desperate need. A sharp gasp escapes you, followed by another, and another, until your voice grows louder, echoing through the quiet of the office.

Panic flickers in Jeongin’s eyes. The church is vast, but sound carries, and the thought of anyone hearing you—of anyone knowing—sends a jolt through him. Without thinking, he presses a hand over your mouth, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he whispers, “Shh…”

But even as he says it, he knows he's lost. Knows he can't stop, can't pull away, can't pretend he doesn’t want this, doesn’t need this. And the way you tremble beneath him, the way you don’t resist—only sink further into his touch—tells him that you don’t want him to stop either.

The desk creaks beneath you, your bodies moving in sync, tangled between want and something deeper, something unspoken. His hand remains over your mouth, but your muffled moans still break through, each one unraveling him further.

He’s never wanted anything more than this—than you. And right now, nothing else exists.

Jeongin's grip tightens on your waist, his pace unrelenting, his body pressed firmly against yours. His breath is hot against your ear as he leans in, voice low, teasing, sinful.

"Do you want the whole church to hear you?" he murmurs, his tone laced with something dark, something wicked. "Want someone to walk in and see you like this? See you bent over my desk, moaning like a sinner?"

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, a rush of heat pooling in your core. He feels it—the way your body clenches around him, the way you react to his taunts—and it only spurs him on.

"You like that idea, don’t you?" he breathes, his fingers trailing up your back, your skin burning under his touch. "Filthy."

Your muffled whimper against his palm betrays you, and Jeongin chuckles, the sound deep, knowing. His other hand slides down, gripping your hip tighter as he pushes into you with more force, more purpose.

"Maybe I should take my hand away," he muses, teasing. "Let them hear exactly how much you love this."

But he doesn’t. He keeps his hand firmly over your mouth, swallowing every desperate sound you make, as if he knows you’d be too loud—too lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. And that thought alone—knowing how much he affects you—undoes him completely.

"You like this, don’t you?" he murmurs, his voice a deep whisper against your ear. "The thought of someone hearing, of someone knowing what I’m doing to you right now."

Your body tenses at his words, a shudder rolling through you as your fingers curl against the polished wood. You shouldn’t like it—shouldn’t crave it the way you do—but the way his voice drips with something almost sinful makes your breath hitch.

Jeongin chuckles softly, pressing a kiss against the back of your shoulder, his lips warm against your skin. "You're so eager for me," he muses, his grip tightening, his pace unrelenting. "Maybe it’s a good thing I covered your mouth. Otherwise, the whole church would know just how filthy you sound when I touch you like this."

Your muffled whimper is his only answer, and it only fuels him further. His restraint is fraying, unraveling with every desperate sound you make beneath his palm. The weight of his presence, the heat of his body against yours—it’s overwhelming. Consuming.

Jeongin pulls out just to push it back in, hard enough that he launches you forward, he continues thrusting and slides a hand around your hips to play with your clit. Three or four strokes later, and you come around him.

He follows you over the edge, chanting your name like a prayer andAnd in this moment, with nothing but the heavy scent of old books and candle wax in the air, Jeongin lets himself forget. Forget the weight of his collar. Forget the vows he’s breaking. Forget the world beyond these four walls.

Right now, there is only you.

-

The weight of the moment still lingers in the air, thick and heady, as Jeongin slowly exhales. His hands move on their own accord, instinctively smoothing down your dress as he kneels before you. His breath is warm against your skin as he leans in, his lips brushing over the inside of your thigh, a soft kiss before his tongue flicks out to taste the remnants of himself on you.

A quiet gasp leaves your lips as your fingers weave into his hair, but Jeongin doesn’t linger—not this time. He’s gentle, thorough, his hands gripping your legs steady as he cleans up the mess he made with his slick, hot tongue, the intimacy of it making something tighten in his chest.

Once he’s finished, he reaches for your discarded underwear, sliding it back up your legs with careful hands. His fingers graze your skin as he adjusts the hem of your dress, his touch lingering a second too long before he finally stands.

Neither of you speak as he helps you straighten your clothes, his hands smoothing out the wrinkles on your sleeves, then reaching down to pick up your purse from where it had fallen. When he hands it to you, your fingers brush, and you look up at him, searching his face.

“Can I see you again?” you ask softly.

Jeongin hesitates for only a second, but he already knows the answer. He’s too far gone to turn back now. His fingers find their way to your hair, gently tucking a stray strand behind your ear as he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Tomorrow," he murmurs, his voice low, steady. "I'll see you again tomorrow."

A small smile plays at your lips, and something inside Jeongin eases at the sight. But the moment is fleeting, the reality of where you are settling back in as he glances toward the door. Without another word, he kisses you again, quick and rushed, as if afraid someone might walk in and shatter this fragile moment.

Then, with one last glance, you turn toward the door. As you step out of his office, you flash him a smile—soft, knowing—and then you’re gone.

Jeongin stands there for a moment, staring at the closed door, his heart pounding against his ribs.

Tomorrow.

It should scare him. It should make him second-guess everything. But instead, all he can think about is how he already can’t wait to see you again.

-

The café is tucked away on a quiet street, far enough from Jeongin’s neighborhood that he doesn’t have to worry about running into anyone familiar. Still, as he steps inside, a flicker of unease settles in his chest. His eyes scan the room, searching—until they land on you.

You're sitting by the window, fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee, absentmindedly stirring the liquid with your spoon. Sunlight filters through the glass, casting a soft glow on your skin, and when you finally notice him standing by the entrance, your face lights up.

Jeongin’s breath catches.

It’s ridiculous, really. He’s been with you before—held you, kissed you, memorized the way your body fits against his. And yet, standing here now, watching the way your lips curve into a smile just for him, he feels his heart stutter like a nervous teenager on his first date.

His first date.

A strange thought, but an accurate one. He hasn’t done this—met someone in a café, taken the time to sit across from them and just exist together—for over three years. The realization unsettles him, but before he can dwell on it, you wave him over.

“Hey,” you greet, your voice warm, inviting. “You made it.”

He exhales, pushing away his hesitation, and moves toward you. “Of course,” he says, pulling out the chair across from you. “Sorry, I—” He clears his throat. “Didn’t keep you waiting long, did I?”

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

For a moment, there’s a beat of quiet between you, but it’s not awkward. It’s comfortable. Jeongin watches as you take a sip of your drink, your eyes flickering toward him with something unreadable in them—something soft, something patient. It grounds him.

The conversation starts naturally, flowing like it always does between you two. You talk about little things—the café, the pastries, the books stacked neatly on a nearby shelf. At one point, Jeongin admits he hasn’t been to a place like this in years, and you smile at him knowingly.

“I guess it does feel a little… date-like,” you tease, your eyes glinting with amusement.

Jeongin scoffs lightly, though his ears burn at the comment. “It’s just coffee.”

“Mm.” You hum, stirring your drink again. “And what if I told you I liked the idea of it being a date?”

He swallows hard, fingers tightening around his cup. “Then…” He exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Then I’d be in trouble, wouldn’t I?”

You grin at that, tilting your head slightly as if studying him. Before he can overthink whatever it is you’re searching for in his face, you reach into your bag and pull something out, sliding it across the table toward him.

Jeongin blinks.

It’s his book—his latest one, the one he spent months agonizing over, the one he thought you’d never read.

“I was going to ask you last time,” you say, tapping the cover. “But… we were kind of preoccupied.”

Heat rises to his face as flashes of last night fill his mind. He coughs, shifting in his seat. “Yeah. Preoccupied.”

You laugh softly before sliding a pen toward him. “Would you please sign it for me?”

Jeongin hesitates, his fingers brushing against the book’s worn edges. He should’ve expected this—he’s signed copies for other readers before. But something about this feels different. More intimate.

Carefully, he flips open the cover, pen poised above the blank page. “What do you want me to write?”

You shrug. “Whatever you want.”

That’s almost worse.

Jeongin takes a moment, staring at the empty space in front of him. He could just sign his name and be done with it. But instead, his hand moves on its own, words flowing before he can second-guess them.

To the one who sees me, in ways no one else ever has.

He pauses, pressing his lips together before adding his signature beneath it.

When he finally pushes the book back to you, you glance down at the page, eyes skimming over his handwriting. Jeongin watches closely, nervous for some reason, but when you look up at him again, there’s something softer in your expression. Something that tugs at the deepest part of him.

“Thank you,” you murmur, tracing the edge of the book.

He nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah.”

And just like that, the café, the people, the outside world—it all fades into the background. For this moment, it’s just the two of you. Just coffee, a book, and something unspoken lingering between you.

-

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting streaks of gold and orange across the horizon as Jeongin walks beside you. The air is crisp, filled with the quiet hum of the city winding down, the occasional laughter of children playing in the distance, the rustle of leaves beneath your feet.

For a while, neither of you say anything. It’s a comfortable silence, one that Jeongin has grown to cherish. But then, you sigh, gaze flickering toward the sky as if searching for something.

“A lot happened in the last four months,” you murmur.

Jeongin turns his head slightly, giving you his full attention. “Yeah?”

You nod. “I graduated.”

His lips curl into a smile. “I knew you would. Congratulations on that!”

You let out a quiet laugh, but there’s something tired in the way you do it. “Thank you. I also got an internship at a magazine.”

“That’s great,” Jeongin says, genuine. “You always wanted that, right?”

“I did,” you admit. “It’s been… busy, but I’m learning a lot.”

There’s something unspoken in the way you say it, and Jeongin waits, knowing there’s more.

You take a deep breath before continuing, “I moved out of my parents’ house.”

That catches him off guard. He blinks, processing your words. “You did?”

You nod again, but this time, your expression shifts—like you’re remembering something heavy, something that weighs on you. “My mother refused the idea. We fought about it. She said I was being selfish, that I didn’t think about the family.” You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “It got bad. And now… we’re not really on good terms.”

Jeongin listens intently as you speak, taking in every word, every hesitation, every flicker of emotion that crosses your face. But what truly catches his attention is your hand—the way it drifts to your thigh, fingers curling into the fabric of your skirt, pressing down, gripping tighter with every mention of your mother. He knows that kind of pain, the kind that doesn’t just exist in your heart but demands to be felt in your body, as if hurting yourself physically could somehow lessen the ache inside.

“I don’t really have anyone now,” you say softly.

And maybe you don’t even realize you’re doing it, but he sees the way your nails press into your skin, the way you try to keep your voice even when it trembles at the edges.

Before he can think twice, he reaches out, gently prying your fingers away and taking your hand in his. His grip is firm but warm, grounding. Your breath hitches slightly, eyes darting to where his fingers intertwine with yours.

"You’re not alone," Jeongin says softly, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.

You look up at him, startled, as if hearing those words out loud shakes something loose inside you.

"Sometimes we have to leave things behind, even people we love, to become who we’re meant to be," he continues. "And it hurts. But that doesn’t mean you have to carry it all by yourself."

Your fingers twitch in his grasp, but you don’t pull away. Instead, after a moment, you squeeze his hand back, just barely—but enough for Jeongin to feel it.

He exhales, a quiet relief settling over him.

It’s such a simple thing. Just holding hands. And yet, standing here, feeling your warmth, feeling the way your fingers fit so perfectly between his—he knows this isn’t simple at all.

Holding your hand isn’t just about stopping you from hurting yourself. It’s a silent promise, a reassurance that even in the spaces where the past still lingers, where the pain still throbs—you’re not alone.

And he likes it. He likes the way it feels, how easy it is, how right it seems. He likes that everyone around can see that you’re with him and he’s with you, like any other couple walking through the park. Just two people enjoying the sunset together.

Forgetting, just for a moment, that there’s anything complicated about this at all.

-

As Jeongin walks you home, the city hums around you—the occasional car passing by, the distant chatter of pedestrians, the soft glow of streetlights casting elongated shadows against the pavement. But none of it registers, not really. Not when you're right beside him, your fingers occasionally brushing against his as you walk.

When you finally reach your apartment building, you stop at the entrance and turn to face him. The warm glow of the lights above the door softens your features, making you look even more beautiful, and Jeongin grips the edge of his sleeve to stop himself from reaching for you outright.

"Thank you for today," you say softly, your voice carrying a sincerity that makes something in his chest tighten. "I had a nice time."

He holds your gaze, his fingers twitching at his sides. His first instinct is to say something, anything, but the words don't come. Instead, his hand finds yours again, holding it between both of his, as if reluctant to let go.

A moment passes in silence.

Then, you ask, "Do you… want to come upstairs?"

Jeongin knows what will happen if he says yes. If he follows you up, if he steps into your apartment, if you’re alone together behind a locked door. His body wants to say yes. His heart wants to say yes. But his mind tells him to stop.

Not yet.

He swallows the urge and offers you a small, apologetic smile. "Maybe some other time."

You nod in understanding, though there's the smallest flicker of disappointment in your eyes. But it disappears as quickly as it came when you gather the courage to ask, "Is it too soon to ask when I can see you again?"

Jeongin exhales a soft laugh, warmth blooming in his chest at your shyness. "The church is giving out free ice cream this Sunday," he tells you. "You should come."

You smile. "I will."

He wants to hold you, to pull you against his chest and feel your warmth, not even in a way that would lead to something more—just to embrace you, to exist in this moment together. But it's too public, too risky.

So instead, he swallows the urge and nods toward the entrance. "You should head in."

You hesitate, as if reluctant to leave him. But then you nod, whisper a soft, "Goodnight," and turn toward the door.

He watches you take a few steps away, pausing at the entrance, glancing over your shoulder at him one last time before finally stepping inside.

As the door closes behind you, Jeongin lets out a deep breath, a realization settling heavily in his chest.

He just let you go. And he doesn’t want to.

Before he can stop himself, he moves. His feet carry him forward, past the entrance and up the stairs, two at a time.

When you hear his hurried footsteps, you stop on the landing and turn around, eyes widening slightly when you see him coming up to meet you. He slows as he reaches you, stopping one step lower so that, for once, you're at the same height.

For a second, neither of you speaks.

Then, Jeongin reaches out, his hand cradling your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek. He kisses you. Softly, gently—so different from the way he kissed you last night. There’s no urgency, no desperation, just a quiet reverence, a tenderness that makes your breath hitch. He kisses you like he’s memorizing the feel of you, like he’s terrified he’ll never get to do this again.

And then he pulls away, though not entirely. His lips linger close, his breath still warm against yours, as if he isn’t quite ready to break the moment.

Finally, he steps back, his lips curving into a small smile. "Goodnight," he whispers.

And then, before he can change his mind, he turns and makes his way back down the stairs.

As he steps onto the street, he exhales slowly, his fingers brushing over his lips, still tingling from your kiss.

-

The church is filled with soft murmurs, the rustle of pages turning in hymnbooks, the occasional cough echoing against the high ceilings. Stained glass windows filter the morning light into fractured colors, casting hues of red, blue, and gold onto the congregation. It should feel like any other Sunday, another routine sermon, another familiar rhythm of prayers and scripture.

But Jeongin knows this Sunday is different.

Because you’re here.

He suppresses the smile threatening to curl at his lips, instead lowering his gaze to the pages of his Bible, feigning concentration. But no matter how hard he tries to focus, his mind keeps drifting—to the soft lilt of your voice, the way you looked at him two nights ago on the stairs, the feeling of your lips against his.

The knowledge that you’re sitting among the parishioners, listening to his sermon, sends a strange warmth coursing through his veins. It’s an awareness that settles deep within him, a silent anticipation that he tries desperately to suppress. He shouldn’t be this excited to see you.

And yet, as he stands at the pulpit, addressing the congregation, his eyes instinctively scan the pews until they land on you.

You’re near the middle, sitting quietly among the others, your hands folded neatly in your lap. Your head is bowed slightly, your eyes fixed on him with an attentiveness that makes his pulse stutter.

For a fleeting moment, the rest of the church fades away.

It’s just you. Just him.

Then, realizing he’s lingering too long, Jeongin quickly looks away, clearing his throat before continuing his sermon.

He reminds himself to keep his voice steady, to not let the words tremble with the weight of knowing you’re watching him. But even as he speaks about faith and devotion, about God’s plan and the strength to follow it, he wonders—if he were to step down from the pulpit, if he were to walk through the pews and take your hand in his… would that be straying from God’s path?

Or was it possible… that you were part of it?

The thought lingers, even as he bows his head in prayer, even as the choir sings its final hymn.

And when the mass ends and people begin to file out, Jeongin finds himself searching for you again, anticipation thrumming beneath his skin.

Because this Sunday, for the first time in a long time, he’s not just waiting for the service to be over.

He’s waiting for you.

-

The late morning sun casts a warm glow over the churchyard, the air filled with the laughter of children as they eagerly crowd around the ice cream booth. Their voices blend together, bright and full of excitement, their small hands reaching out for the free treats.

Jeongin spots you standing a few feet away from the scene, watching with a faint smile, your hands tucked into the sleeves of your cardigan. He approaches, keeping a safe distance between you, aware of the parishioners mingling nearby.

“You’re not joining them?” he asks, tilting his head toward the booth.

You shake your head, amusement flickering in your eyes. “I don’t want to get hurt.”

He laughs at that, the sound coming naturally, effortlessly. “You’re lucky you’re with me, then. I can get you one without queuing.”

Before you can protest, he turns on his heel and heads toward the booth. The kids part easily for him, greeting him with bright smiles and playful chatter, and within moments, he returns with a small cup of ice cream in hand.

“Here.” He hands it to you, and for the briefest moment, your fingers brush against his as you take it from him.

It’s nothing—just a fleeting touch, a second of contact. And yet, the sensation lingers, a jolt of electricity shooting through him. He quickly looks away, willing himself to act normal, but it’s difficult when you look so beautiful today. When all he wants to do is hold you, pull you closer, press a kiss to the corner of your mouth just to see you smile like that again.

Instead, the two of you stand there in silence, side by side, neither of you quite knowing how to act.

Then, you clear your throat, breaking the quiet. “I, um… I won’t be able to see you for a couple of days.”

Jeongin blinks, glancing at you. “Oh?”

You nod, stirring your ice cream with the small plastic spoon. “I have a work trip—just two days. I’ll be back soon.”

A teasing smirk tugs at his lips. “I thought you were going to ask when you can see me again.”

You laugh softly, a little shy, a little flustered. “Well… maybe I was.”

He’s about to respond, to say something he shouldn’t, when a voice calls his name.

“Father Yang!”

He turns to see a parishioner approaching, one that he recognizes has been a generous donor to the church, smiling warmly as he makes his way over.

And just like that, the moment is gone.

You step back almost instantly, gripping your cup of ice cream a little tighter. “I should go,” you say quickly, nodding toward Jeongin before offering the other man a polite smile. “Thank you for the ice cream.”

Before he can say anything, before he can even think, you turn and walk away, disappearing into the crowd.

Jeongin exhales slowly, watching you go, his fingers curling into his palm as he swallows the urge to follow.

-

Jeongin tries to focus. He really does.

The late afternoon sun filters through the church windows, casting golden light across the wooden pews, the air thick with the lingering scent of incense. The afternoon mass had gone smoothly, the hymns sung beautifully, the prayers spoken with quiet devotion. But even as he stood at the altar, delivering his sermon, his mind wandered elsewhere—to you.

You, with your soft voice and bright eyes.

You, with your laughter that still echoed in his ears.

You, walking away from him after mass, leaving him with nothing but the ghost of your touch and the lingering scent of your perfume.

He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face as he steps outside, hoping that the cool air will clear his mind. He has some free time before the Bible studies, and a part of him hopes that the distraction will be enough to keep his thoughts at bay.

As if you sense that he's drifting away from you, his phone buzzes inside hus pocket. He pulls it out and sure enough, your name lights up his screen, a simple message waiting for him:

Can I call you?

Jeongin's breath catches, his thumb hovering over the screen. He looks around the church, empty except for a few parishioners coming into the church to pray in the peaceful silence.

With that, he turns on his heel, making his way toward his office. His pace quickens with every step, anticipation buzzing beneath his skin.

Jeongin shuts the door behind him, leaning against the solid wood as he exhales. His phone is still buzzing in his palm, your name glowing on the screen. He hesitates only for a second before accepting the call, bringing it to his ear.

“Hello?”

There’s silence for a brief moment, just the soft sound of your breath filtering through the line. Then—

“I’m so wet.”

Jeongin stiffens. His grip on the phone tightens. “What?”

A quiet laugh escapes you, breathy and teasing, but there’s a slight tremble beneath it. “I started thinking about you… and I just—” You sigh, the sound dragging against his nerves like a slow burn. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Jeongin swallows, his throat suddenly dry. His free hand flexes at his side before gripping the edge of his desk. “Where are you?” His voice is lower than he expected.

“My hotel room,” you murmur. “Lying on my bed… naked, touching myself.”

A sharp breath leaves him, and he clenches his jaw. His mind floods with images he shouldn’t entertain, things he shouldn’t want, yet his body betrays him, heat pooling low in his stomach. He exhales through his nose, tilting his head back slightly.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice comes out rough, unsteady.

“You,” you admit without hesitation. “Your hands, your lips… how you feel against me. I want you, Jeongin.”

His breath shudders as his restraint frays. His fingers move almost unconsciously, yanking open the front of his dark slacks. The pressure has been building since the moment you spoke, his body responding before he could stop it.

He shifts against the desk, eyes fluttering shut. “Tell me more.”

You do.

“My legs are spreading open and it makes me think of you kneeling between them.”

Jeongin exhales sharply, his fingers tightening around the phone as your voice filters through the speaker. The sound of your breath, the quiet rustle of fabric—he can picture it too vividly.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough around the edges. His free hand moves to palm over himself, feeling the ache growing unbearable. “What are you doing now?”

A shaky sigh comes from your end. “I’m spreading my legs wider,” you confess, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m running my fingers down—” You cut off with a soft, unsteady breath. “It’s so wet, Jeongin. I need you inside me.”

His name leaving your lips like that sends a sharp pulse of heat through him. He groans under his breath, finally giving in as he wraps a hand around himself, stroking slowly.

“Keep going,” he tells you, his voice strained.

“I’m making a mess on my bed and I wish... wish it was your cock instead of my fingers.”

You describe everything in vivid detail, every touch, every movement, every filthy thought that runs through your mind. And Jeongin—he can’t help it. His fingers tighten, his strokes becoming more deliberate, matching the rhythm of your breathless moans.

“I want you in my hand, in my mouth, inside me... I want you all over me.”

He knows he shouldn’t. He knows this is wrong. But right now, with the way you sound, the way you’re whispering his name like a prayer—he’s too far gone to care.

Jeongin’s grip on the phone tightens when his screen lights up with a notification—your name, followed by a video attachment. His breath catches in his throat.

He knows he shouldn’t open it. He knows this is crossing another line. But with your breathless voice still in his ear, whispering filthy things, he doesn’t even hesitate.

The video loads, and then he sees you—naked, spread out on the bed, fingers disappearing between your legs, your lips parted in a soft moan as you arch slightly against the mattress.

Jeongin exhales sharply, his jaw clenching.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his hand tightening around himself.

On the other end of the line, you let out a breathy giggle. “Do you like it?”

His eyes stay glued to the screen, his chest rising and falling heavily. “You’re a dirty girl,” he rasps. “Filthy.”

You hum at that, clearly pleased by his reaction. “Only for you.”

His fingers flex against the phone. “If you were here right now,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, “I’d have you bent over this desk.”

You let out a soft, needy whimper.

“I’d have spanked you,” he continues, his tone dark with promise. “For being so shameless. For teasing me like this.”

Your breath stutters, and Jeongin feels a twisted sense of satisfaction knowing how much his words affect you.

“Would you like that?” he taunts. “Would you take it, like a good girl?”

“Yes,” you breathe, and that’s all it takes to push him over the edge.

His movements grow erratic, his head tilting back as pleasure crashes through him. He groans lowly, your name slipping past his lips as he comes undone.

Silence stretches between you after, filled only by the sound of your quiet breaths.

Jeongin swallows hard, still gripping his phone like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the moment. He shouldn’t have done that. He knows it. But right now, he can’t bring himself to regret it.

Finally, he exhales a small chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re dangerous.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “And yet, you can’t resist me.”

He rubs a hand over his face, a helpless smile tugging at his lips. “No,” he admits. “I can’t.”

The tension coils tighter inside him, his breathing uneven as he leans heavily against the desk. His grip on the phone trembles slightly, his fingers flexing against the smooth surface.

“Jeongin,” you whimper, and he swears he can feel it—feel you—even though you’re miles away.

His jaw clenches, his movements turning almost desperate. “I wish I was there,” he admits, his voice thick with need. “I wish I could touch you myself.”

“Me too,” you whisper. “I need you.”

That’s all it takes.

His restraint snaps like a thread pulled too tight, and with a low, guttural sound, he comes undone—his mind drowning in thoughts of you, his body giving in to the pleasure you so easily draw from him.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of your unsteady breaths and his own. Then, silence.

Jeongin swallows, forcing his breathing to steady. He runs a hand through his hair, his heart still hammering against his ribs. He shouldn’t have done that. He knows it. But he doesn’t regret a single second of it.

Finally, he clears his throat, bringing the phone back to his ear. “Are you okay?”

You let out a quiet, breathy laugh. “Yeah. Are you?”

He exhales a small chuckle, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know.”

You hum, a warm, content sound. “I miss you.”

Jeongin closes his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips despite everything.

“I miss you too.”

The moment the high fades, reality crashes back in like a tidal wave.

Jeongin blinks, chest still rising and falling, as his eyes dart to his desk—where he’s just made an absolute mess. His stomach twists in a mix of guilt and disbelief.

Here. In his office.

His hands move on instinct, grabbing tissues from the drawer, hurriedly wiping away any evidence of what just happened. His mind races as he works, as if cleaning the desk can somehow cleanse him of the sin lingering in his veins.

But it’s not just about the act itself—it’s the way he felt during it. The way he surrendered so easily, the way he let your voice, your breathy moans, your whispered confessions unravel him entirely.

And worst of all? The way he still wants more.

His phone buzzes again.

Did you make a mess?

Jeongin swallows, discarding the last of the tissues before picking up his phone again. His fingers hover over the screen for a moment before he types back:

Yes and you're in big trouble.

Your reply comes almost instantly.

If I were there, I'd lick every drop off you.

A breath of laughter escapes him—soft, barely there. He leans back against the desk, running a hand through his hair, and sighs.

If you were here, it all would have gone into your tight little cunt.

A second later, his phone buzzes with your response.

Yes, please.

-

Jeongin tells himself it’s just a matter of hours now. Less than a day until he sees you again. He only has to wait.

And yet, someone interrupting his focus as he helps set up the hall for tonight’s lecture, one hand carrying a stack of hymn books he’s arranging.

"Jeongin!"

He looks up and immediately recognizes the familiar figure approaching him—Father Hwang. A smile tugs at his lips as he steps forward. "Sam," he greets, using the name he's always called him by. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm the guest lecturer for tonight," Sam says with a grin, adjusting the strap of his satchel over his shoulder. "Figured I’d get here early and catch up with you."

Jeongin nods, welcoming the distraction as they fall into step together.

“How have you been?” Sam asks, glancing at him curiously. “Still writing?”

Jeongin lets out a small chuckle. “Yeah. My latest book came out a few months ago.”

“I heard.” Sam smirks. “A detective novel, right?”

Jeongin nods. “It’s doing well, I think. I haven’t really been keeping track.”

“Well, my sister’s a fan. She told me I should ask you for an autograph while I’m here.”

Jeongin laughs at that. “I didn’t know she read my books.”

“Oh, she does. She even said she has a theory about your next one,” Sam says, nudging him playfully. “She thinks the main detective and the love interest are finally going to get together.”

Jeongin swallows, his smile faltering for a split second. Love interest. The word alone makes something in his chest tighten.

Sam notices the change in his expression. “You okay?”

Jeongin forces a small smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Sam hums, clearly unconvinced but doesn’t push further. Instead, he changes the subject. “How’s life here? The church? Everything going well?”

Jeongin nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. Everything’s… normal.”

Sam raises an eyebrow at his choice of words. “Normal?”

Jeongin hesitates. “I guess.”

Sam studies him for a moment before shaking his head with a knowing smile. “You know, I always admired how devoted you are to this life. Even when we were in seminary, you were so sure about your path. It was never a question for you.”

Jeongin opens his mouth to respond, but the words catch in his throat. Because for the first time in years, he isn’t sure if that’s still true.

Before he can dwell on the thought, his phone buzzes in his pocket. At first, he ignores it, keeping his attention on Sam. But then it vibrates again.

He hesitates, already knowing who it is before he even pulls out his phone.

A part of him feels guilty—he hasn’t seen Sam in months, and cutting their conversation short would be rude. But at the same time… he wants to hear your voice. To talk to you, even if just for a few minutes.

Sam, perceptive as ever, glances at Jeongin’s phone and chuckles. “You should get that.”

Jeongin looks up, startled. “I—”

Sam waves him off with an easy smile. “Go on. I need go get ready anyway.”

Jeongin hesitates for only a moment before nodding. “Thanks, Sam. I’ll catch up with you later.”

He pulls out his phone, unlocking the screen with an ease that speaks to how often he checks his messages these days.

I'm here.

Two words. That’s all it takes to send his pulse into a frenzy.

Here?

Panic grips him before he can stop it. The church is busy tonight—people are arriving early, chatting, gathering in the halls. What if someone sees you? What if someone knows?

He presses the call button before his thoughts can spiral further. The moment you pick up, he’s already walking, leaving behind his task without a second thought.

“Where are you?” His voice is hushed, urgent.

“In the hallway,” you answer.

Jeongin doesn’t hesitate. His feet move faster, shifting from a brisk walk to an outright run as he pushes past the heavy wooden doors and into the dimly lit hall. His breath catches the second he sees you.

Standing beneath the glow of flickering candles, you look almost unreal—soft, waiting, your expression easing into a smile the moment your eyes meet his. Relief crosses your face, as if you had been holding your breath this whole time.

He doesn’t stop to think. He reaches for you, his hands finding yours, gripping them tightly. “Why are you here?” His voice is barely above a whisper, but the question carries weight.

You squeeze his hands, your fingers curling around his and a grin painted your face. “I just couldn’t wait to see you again.”

His heart stumbles in his chest. He shouldn’t feel this way—shouldn’t feel this kind of elation just from your words, just from the way you look at him like he’s someone you’ve longed for.

But he does.

He shifts closer, his gaze dropping to your lips, ready—so ready—to taste you again. But just as he tilts his head, footsteps echo down the hall, followed by murmured voices.

His stomach lurches.

Without thinking, he grabs your wrist and pulls you toward the church doors. You don’t resist, letting him lead you past the altar and toward the confessionals at the back. He tugs open the wooden door of one of the booths, glancing around quickly before whispering, “Get inside.”

You don’t ask why. You just obey, slipping into the tight space, the scent of aged wood and candle wax surrounding you.

Jeongin follows a second later, shutting the door behind him. The moment the latch clicks into place, his restraint crumbles. His hands cup your face. His lips find yours.

The kiss is urgent, reckless—nothing like the gentle press he gave you last night on the stairs. This is raw, a collision of breath and need, the kind of kiss that speaks of stolen moments and unspoken desires.

You sigh against him, melting into his touch, and Jeongin thinks—God forgive me, I don’t want to stop.

-

The confessional is small, barely enough space for two people, but in this moment, Jeongin uses that to his advantage. Your back is pressed against the wooden wall, breath uneven, lips swollen from his kiss. His hands tremble where they rest on your waist, the weight of what he’s about to do pressing down on him, but it’s nothing compared to the fire burning in his veins.

"You really couldn’t wait, could you?" His voice is low, just above a whisper, yet it carries the sharp edge of control. "Had to come find me here, of all places?"

You shake your head, but your body betrays you, pressing closer as if drawn by something stronger than logic.

Jeongin exhales, his hand trailing lower, fingertips teasing the hem of your skirt. He knows he shouldn’t. He knows where you are, knows the kind of sin he’s inviting.

And yet—

His fingers slip beneath the fabric, his hand easily finds the heat pooling between your legs and the sharp breath you take in nearly makes him curse. You’re warm, soft, and so wet, so... ready for him. The realization sends a shudder through him.

"Bad girl," he breathes against your ear. "So desperate you made me do this here."

You whimper, a sound too loud for a place like this. He doesn’t even think—his free hand is on you instantly, fingers slipping between your lips, pressing down against your tongue to stifle your noises.

"Shh," he warns, dark amusement lacing his voice. "Or do you want someone to hear how filthy you are right now?"

Your breath hitches. He smirks.

His fingers move deeper, slow and deliberate, feeling the way your body reacts to him, the way you tense and then soften, surrendering to his touch. He leans in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?" His voice is barely audible, a ghost of a sound against your skin. "Want someone to walk in and see what I’m doing to you? See how you let me ruin you in the house of God?"

Jeongin works on your clit in earnest now, circling it hard and fast, loving the way you’re thrusting against his hand.

You whimper around his fingers, your body trembling as you struggle to keep quiet. The thought alone makes heat coil low in his stomach, his own restraint hanging by a thread.

"I could do this all day."

But Jeongin isn't ready to let go just yet.

Not when you’re this vulnerable beneath him. Not when you’re this beautiful in your surrender.

The tension inside you snaps, waves of pleasure rolling through you under his relentless touch. He feels it—the way you shudder, the way your fingers clutch desperately at his wrist as if to anchor yourself. He doesn’t stop, not yet, not until he’s sure he’s wrung every last bit of pleasure from you.

When you finally go limp against him, he exhales a shaky breath, wrapping an arm around you to hold you up. His lips find your temple, then your cheek, soft kisses pressing into your skin as you come down from your high.

“You did so well,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something unspoken. His fingers—now wet with your release—trail up to your hip, lingering there before he finally pulls away.

You sigh, eyes fluttering open to meet his. There’s warmth there, something tender despite everything that just transpired between these walls.

Jeongin swallows, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he tells you, voice softer now. “Until then…” He smirks faintly, tilting your chin up. “Be a good girl and go home.”

You nod, though your fingers curl slightly in the fabric of his sleeve, reluctant to step away. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before he’s kissing you again—slow, deep, as if he’s memorizing the shape of your lips against his. He lingers, drinking you in, letting himself have this moment before he has to let you go.

Eventually, he does.

With one last look, you slip out of the confessional, smoothing down your skirt, composing yourself. Jeongin stays behind, leaning against the wooden wall as he listens to the soft echo of your footsteps fading into the church hall.

As Jeongin takes his seat at the front of the lecture hall, he clasps his hands together, willing himself to focus. But then—he smells it. The faint, intoxicating scent of you lingers on his fingers, a ghost of what just happened in the confessional booth. He flexes his hand, bringing it closer to his lap, but it’s no use. The memory of you is branded onto his skin.

And then, there’s the smudge of color on his other fingers—a trace of your lipstick. It’s subtle, just a faint stain, but it’s enough to make his stomach tighten.

He should feel guilty. He should be ashamed. Instead, all he can think about is tomorrow.

-

Jeongin shifts the plastic bag in his grip, glancing at the number on your apartment door. His heart pounds in his chest, a steady, nervous rhythm that refuses to slow down. This shouldn’t be a big deal. He’s just bringing dinner. Just spending time with you. But something about standing here, outside of a place that is yours, away from the church, away from everything that defines him as Father Yang, unsettles him.

He raises a hand and knocks. The sound is firm but betrays the slight tremble in his fingers.

It only takes a moment before the door swings open, and then—there you are.

You’re smiling, bright and warm, like you’ve been waiting for him all day. And before he can say anything, you slip into him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a hug so natural, so easy, that his entire body relaxes before his mind can catch up. Your lips brush against his cheek, soft and fleeting, but it leaves warmth spreading across his skin.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you say softly, looking up at him.

And just like that, the tension in his chest vanishes. He forgets about the nerves, forgets about the careful restraint he had tried to build on his way here. It's just you. Just him. Just this moment.

His hand comes up to your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he tilts his head down. He doesn’t think—he just moves, closing the space between you and pressing his lips against yours in a soft, unhurried kiss.

And somehow, this feels right. Natural. Like he’s done this before—coming home to you, being welcomed into your warmth.

You stay like that for a moment, lips barely apart, breathing in each other’s air, until you pull away with a gentle tug on his wrist.

“Come in,” you say, still smiling.

The food is simple but warm, filling the space between you with something comforting. Jeongin hadn’t realized how much he needed this—an ordinary meal, shared with someone who looks at him like he’s more than just Father Yang, more than just a priest trying to keep himself together.

After dinner, you stand and pick up the wine bottle, pouring him a glass with a teasing smile. “It’s not communion wine, but I hope you like it.”

Jeongin huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he takes the glass. He follows you to the sofa, sitting beside you, still holding the wine as if unsure what to do with it.

“You look like you need it,” you add, tilting your head. “You’re so tense.”

Jeongin exhales through his nose, amused. He lifts the glass and takes a small sip, the rich taste spreading over his tongue. When he lowers the glass, he catches you watching him, your gaze steady and warm.

You reach out, your fingers brushing against his arm as you speak softly, “We don’t have to do anything. I just want to be with you. Get to know you better.”

Something in Jeongin eases at that. The tight coil of uncertainty unwinds, and he nods, taking another sip of his wine before glancing at you. “What do you want to know?”

At that, your eyes light up, and you shift closer, resting your elbow on the back of the sofa as you begin.

“What’s your coffee order?”

He blinks at the unexpected question, then chuckles. “Ice Americano. Extra shot.”

You hum thoughtfully, nodding. “What’s your favorite movie?”

“Uh…” Jeongin tilts his head, pretending to think. “Do I lose points if I say I don’t watch many movies?”

You gasp dramatically. “Unbelievable. We have to fix that.”

Jeongin laughs, fully relaxing into the cushions. The questions continue—his favorite color, his favorite season, if he has any siblings. With each answer, he feels more like himself—Jeongin, not just Father Yang. The more you learn about him, the more real he becomes, and for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t feel trapped in his own skin.

And then, he notices the way your eyelids grow heavy, the way your fingers curl loosely around the fabric of his sleeve as you fight off sleep. He watches you for a moment, the way your breathing slows, and then he brushes the hair away from your face as he murmurs, “It’s time for you to go to bed.”

You blink up at him sleepily, then reach for his hand, holding it gently between your fingers. “Will you stay?” Your voice is soft, hesitant. “Just until I fall asleep?”

Jeongin swallows, his heart skipping. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But the way you look at him, the quiet plea in your voice—it weakens him.

He nods. “Okay.”

You smile at that, tugging him toward the bed. Soon, he’s lying beside you, the two of you facing each other in the dim glow of your bedside lamp. The warmth of your body seeps into his, and he’s surrounded by the scent of you—clinging to the sheets, to the pillow, to the very air he breathes. It’s intoxicating, and yet, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

His arm is wrapped around you, holding you close as your head rests against his chest. He feels the steady rise and fall of your breaths. So quiet, peaceful, serene.

Then, in the quiet, you speak.

"You might think I don’t have to worry about anything because I have money," you whisper, voice barely above a breath. "But that’s not true. I’m scared. I feel so alone."

Jeongin’s heart clenches at your words. He tightens his hold on you, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles against your back. He understands. God, does he understand.

"I know what that’s like," he murmurs, his voice raw with something he rarely speaks of. "When I was struggling with my drinking… people turned their backs on me too. I had to deal with it alone, with no one to help me climb out of it."

You shift slightly, looking up at him with soft, searching eyes. "How did you do it?"

Jeongin exhales, his grip on you tightening like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. "I just kept going. I clung to the belief that I could be better. That I could be more than my mistakes." He pauses. "But it was lonely. So lonely."

You reach up, your fingers grazing his cheek, grounding him in the present. "You’re not alone anymore."

His chest aches at your words, at the quiet sincerity in your voice.

"And neither are you," he whispers.

He tilts your chin up gently and presses a soft kiss to your lips—not out of desire, but out of understanding, of shared pain and quiet comfort. Then, he pulls you even closer, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

And in the dark, as he whispers quiet prayers against your skin, Jeongin feels it—this thing between you, slowly consuming him, pulling him under. Love.

And for once, he isn’t afraid of it.

-

The church is silent except for the flickering of candles and the distant creak of old wooden pews. Jeongin kneels before the altar, hands clasped together, eyes closed. The scent of burning wax fills his lungs as he exhales a breath that feels heavier than usual.

"Is this what You want from me?"

His whispered prayer disappears into the vast, hollow space of the church. He has never questioned his path before—not once since he took his vows. But now, every moment with you tugs at the very fabric of his being, unraveling convictions he once thought were unshakable.

You are not a temptation; you are warmth. Peace. Love. And yet, desire coils inside him like something he’s afraid to name.

"If I love her, does that mean I am failing You?"

Silence answers him, as it always does. He wishes for clarity, a sign, something to confirm whether this love is a blessing or a mistake. But all he has is the weight of it, pressing against his ribs like a second heartbeat.

The vibration of his phone in his pocket jolts him out of his thoughts. He blinks, the golden glow of the altar candles sharpening into focus as he pulls out his phone.

It’s a text from you.

What should I do? My mother wants to meet me tomorrow.

He can feel the nerves in that short message, the anxiety woven between each letter. He knows how much this weighs on you, how every interaction with your parents leaves unseen bruises on your heart.

His fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment before he types out his response.

Come to the church tonight.

He presses send. He will see you soon. And maybe, just maybe, being with you will quiet the storm inside him—if only for a little while.

The church is empty when Jeongin steps inside, the quiet humming around him like a sacred lullaby. But before he gets to you, he stops by his office, reaching into his desk drawer to retrieve something—his fingers brushing over cool beads before he carefully slips them into his pocket.

When he pushes through the wooden doors, his breath catches at the sight before him.

You’re not sitting in the pews, nor waiting by the entrance. You’re standing in front of the altar, bathed in the soft glow of flickering candlelight. Your head is tilted upward, eyes fixed on the crucifix, and in this moment, Jeongin swears you are in a state of divinity—here, now, standing in the presence of God.

He doesn’t feel like an intruder as he steps closer. If anything, it feels like he belongs in this moment too.

Slowly, he walks up behind you, his movements careful, reverent. And when he reaches you, he doesn’t stop. He lets his chest meet your back, his arms slip around your waist, his head rest beside yours.

You don’t flinch, don’t pull away. Instead, you lean into him. And then, in a hushed voice, you ask, “Do you feel it?”

Jeongin’s eyes flick to the crucifix before closing for a brief second. “Yes.”

Your voice is a whisper now. “Is this how you always feel when you pray?”

His lips curve into a small smile. “Not always but sometimes.”

And then, silence. Not the kind that feels empty, but the kind that feels full—of something holy, something sacred. The two of you just stay like that, breathing in the stillness, existing in the same presence. As if God Himself is here, witnessing this moment, embracing both of you as His children.

After a while, Jeongin turns his head slightly, and you do the same. Your gazes lock, an unspoken understanding passing between you. And then, as if guided by something beyond himself, Jeongin leans in.

The kiss is soft, slow—gentle in a way that doesn’t feel like it violates the sanctity of this place, but instead, becomes a part of it. Like this, too, is a prayer.

When he pulls away, he lingers, his forehead nearly touching yours. A breath, a heartbeat. Then, he slowly steps back, standing in front of you.

“I have something for you,” he says.

Curiosity sparks in your eyes. You watch as he reaches into his pocket, fingers closing around something before he carefully pulls it out. A rosary.

Taking your hand, he wraps the beads around your fingers, binding them there before enclosing your hand in both of his.

You stare at it, wonder and awe flickering in your expression. “It’s beautiful.”

Jeongin smiles softly. “This was the first rosary I received when I decided to become a priest.” His voice lowers, turning earnest. “And I want you to have it.”

Your smile falters slightly, hesitation flickering in your eyes. “Are you sure? Is it really okay for me to take it?”

Jeongin doesn’t waver. He nods, his grip on your hand firm, warm. “I want you to have it.” A pause. “Whenever you get the urge to hurt yourself, I hope you’ll hold this rosary instead.”

Your breath hitches. And then, something shifts in your expression—a different kind of smile forming on your lips. Sad, yet thankful. A quiet acceptance.

Jeongin gently squeezes your hand. “Promise me you’ll always keep it with you.”

You nod, voice barely above a whisper. “I will. I’ll keep it close at all times.”

Relief washes over him. A sense of peace settles in his chest. With his hand still wrapped around yours, the rosary binding you together, he leans in once more—this time, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips.

A kiss that seals this sacred moment.

-

The next night, Jeongin finds himself standing in front of your door once again.

Unlike the previous night, there's no hesitation when he lifts his hand to knock. Maybe it's because he spent the entire day thinking about you, picturing the way you smiled when he gave you the rosary, the way your fingers curled around it like something precious. Maybe it's because the moment he finished evening mass, he felt a pull—one that led him straight to you.

The door opens, and there you are, standing before him.

Your eyes light up the second you see him, and without hesitation, you step forward, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing yourself against him in a hug that feels warm, familiar.

"You came," you murmur against his shoulder.

Jeongin exhales, his arms coming up to hold you just as tightly. "Of course."

For a while, neither of you moves. You stay there, wrapped up in each other, as if this is the only place either of you is supposed to be. And maybe, in some way, it is.

Eventually, you pull back just enough to look at him. Your smile is soft, full of something unspoken. "Come in."

Jeongin follows you inside, shutting the door behind him. The air in your apartment is warm, scented faintly with something floral—something distinctly you. He catches sight of the rosary on your coffee table, neatly placed as if it’s waiting for you to pick it up at any moment.

Something settles in him at the sight.

You glance over your shoulder. "I made tea," you say, leading him toward the living room. "I wasn’t sure if you’d be hungry, but I have some food too."

Jeongin shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Tea sounds perfect."

You pour him a cup before settling onto the couch beside him, close enough that your knee brushes against his. For a while, you both sit in comfortable silence, sipping tea, letting the presence of each other be enough.

Then, quietly, you say, "Thank you for last night."

Jeongin looks at you. "You don’t have to thank me."

You smile, but there’s something deeper in your expression—something vulnerable. You lift your wrist, letting the rosary dangle between your fingers. "I’ve been holding it. Just like you told me to."

Warmth spreads through Jeongin’s chest.

He reaches over, gently brushing his fingers against yours, against the beads. "I’m glad," he murmurs.

Not that he doesn’t trust you but Jeongin feels the need to check on it himself. He leans back against the couch, his gaze steady as he studies you. Then, softly, he says, "Come here."

You blink at him, uncertain. "Here?"

He nods, patting his lap. "I want to make sure you held in like you said."

A flicker of hesitation crosses your face, but eventually, you move, shifting carefully until you're perched sideways on his lap. His arm wraps around your waist, keeping you steady, his other hand resting gently on your thigh.

He looks at you for a long moment before his fingers move, reaching for the hem of your dress. Slowly, deliberately, he lifts it just enough to reveal your thigh, his eyes scanning for any fresh marks. When he finds none, he exhales, something softening in his expression.

"You really didn't," he murmurs, as if he can't quite believe it.

You meet his gaze, nodding. "I promised, didn't I?"

A slow smile spreads across his lips—pride, warmth, something deeper flickering in his eyes. His hand moves up, brushing your hair back, his touch lingering at the nape of your neck. "You did so well," he says, his voice low, affectionate. "I'm proud of you."

Before you can respond, he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. His mouth is warm, gentle but firm, like he's savoring the taste of you. When he pulls away, his lips graze your cheek, his breath fanning against your skin.

"Good girl," he whispers.

Heat pools in your stomach at the way he says it, his voice filled with quiet reverence, with something possessive and sweet all at once.

Then he dips his head, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His voice is barely more than a murmur, but it sends a shiver down your spine.

His fingers trace slow, idle circles on your thigh, featherlight and teasing, his touch both soothing and electrifying. Then, he asks, "And do you know what happens to good girls?"

A bashful smile tugs at your lips as you glance at him. "What?"

Jeongin smirks, his fingers tracing slow, teasing circles against your thigh. "Good girls get rewarded."

His eyes glint with something mischievous as he watches your reaction, and you feel your breath hitch, anticipation curling in your stomach.

“You did so well,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your temple. “Keeping your promise… being such a good girl for me.”

His praise makes you melt, makes you pliant in his arms, and he feels it—the way your body leans into him, the way your breathing hitches ever so slightly.

His hand drifts higher, slipping beneath the hem of your dress, fingertips skimming over your skin, testing. He hums when he feels the heat of you, the way your thighs press together instinctively.

“You don’t even realize, do you?” he muses, his voice like velvet against your ear. “How easy it is for me to tell when you need me.”

His fingers tease at the edge of your underwear, a featherlight touch that makes you shiver. Your breath stutters, and he smiles against your skin.

“Say it,” he coaxes, his voice both gentle and commanding. “Tell me what you need.”

Your answer comes out in a whisper, barely there, but it’s enough. “Please. I want to come,”

It’s all he needs before his fingers push aside the last barrier, dipping into warmth, finding you already soft and wet, ready for him.

A pleased hum rumbles in his chest. “Of course,” he murmurs. “Always so good for me.”

He doesn't need to look to know how to please you. His fingers part your folds, allowing him to touch your bundle of nerves, applying gentle pressures on it as he rubs on it.

His touch is slow, deliberate, savoring the way you react—how your fingers clutch at his shirt, how your body trembles in his hold. He keeps you close, his other hand firm on your waist, steadying you as he works you open, coaxing pleasure from you with careful precision.

His mouth on your neck, placing hot, wet kisses on the sensitive spot on your neck, teeth faintly scraping the skin just to edge you. He watches you, drinking in every little sound, every flutter of your lashes, every way you shift against him. His lips graze your ear again, his voice thick with something indulgent, something dangerous.

“Just like that,” he praises. “Let me take care of you. Let me make you feel good.”

And he does. With how drenched you are, he can easily slips his two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out of you. He moves with patience, with reverence, as if he’s unraveling something sacred, something only meant for him. As if this moment—just the two of you tangled together, bodies pressed close, his name slipping past your lips in a breathless whisper—is all that has ever mattered.

You make a tiny cry that is muffled by his kiss, squirming under his touch for a long minute before finally come down, sagging against him. He keeps his hand there, tenderly palming you for a minute or two longer, loving the way it

look drenched in your essence, loving the way it feels, and then reluctantly withdraw.

Jeongin watches you, eyes dark with something unreadable yet intoxicating. His fingers, still coated in the evidence of your pleasure, hover just before your lips. He doesn’t have to say a word—your lips part instinctively, your tongue flicking out, tasting yourself as you take him in.

His breath catches. His free hand tightens on your waist.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, his voice rich with satisfaction. “Always so eager for me.”

You swirl your tongue around his fingers, sucking lightly, and Jeongin groans low in his throat. His thumb brushes over your cheek, a tender contrast to the heat pooling between the two of you. When he finally pulls his fingers away, he presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your forehead, grounding you, letting you settle in the aftermath.

But then, softly, he asks, “What else do you want, mmh?”

You don’t answer right away, just blink up at him, lips still slightly parted, your breath uneven. “More.”

There’s a pause—a moment suspended in the space between you. Then, without a word, your hand drifts downward, slow and deliberate, until your fingers press against the growing strain in his jeans.

Jeongin’s breath stutters. His grip on your waist tightens.

“More what?” he asks, teasing, his voice huskier now, laced with something heady.

You still don’t answer, just press your palm a little firmer, feeling him twitch beneath the fabric.

Jeongin exhales sharply through his nose, tilting his head slightly, watching you with something dangerously close to reverence. He hums, almost amused, almost resigned.

“Greedy,” he murmurs, the word dripping with fondness. Then, his lips ghost over your jaw, just barely touching. “But I suppose my good girl deserves it, doesn’t she?”

Jeongin shifts beneath you, his strong arms guiding you gently as he lays you down against the cushions. The leather is cool against your heated skin, but all you can focus on is him—the weight of his body as he hovers over you, the warmth of his breath fanning across your lips before he captures you in another slow, intoxicating kiss.

His hands roam your sides, mapping every curve, every dip, before he pulls away just enough to tug his sweater over his head. The dim lighting casts shadows over his toned torso, the sharp ridges of his muscles shifting as he moves. Instead of pulling you back into a kiss, he takes your hands in his and presses them against his bare skin.

“Go on,” he murmurs, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “Touch me.”

You do—fingertips tracing the firm lines of his abdomen, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. Your breath catches, and when you meet his gaze, he smirks, clearly pleased by your reaction.

“Do you like that?” he asks, his voice dipping lower.

You nod, swallowing hard.

He rewards you with another kiss, deeper this time, before he begins a slow descent down your body. His lips brush over your collarbone, then lower, each kiss leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. His hands slip beneath your dress, pushing the fabric up inch by inch, exposing more of your skin to him. The anticipation coils in your stomach as he moves lower, closer. He gently bites your inner thigh and earned him a sharp gasp from you, then he stops.

You whimper in protest, earning a quiet chuckle from him. He tilts his head, teasing. “Wouldn’t this feel better in bed?”

Before you can argue, he presses a firm hand to your waist, keeping you in place as he effortlessly scoops you up in his arms. Your legs instinctively wrap around him as he carries you, the strength in his hold undeniable. He walks with purpose, each step deliberate, and when he reaches your bedroom, he gently sets you down on the mattress, hovering over you once again.

He smirks, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips. “Now,” he murmurs, eyes dark with intent. “Where were we?”

-

The air between you crackles with tension, thick and charged, as Jeongin hovers behind you. Both of you are naked, he's standing at the end of the bed while you're on the bed, on all fours.

His big hand glides over the curve of your ass before squeezes on the flesh, his thumb hovers over your entrance, slippery wet, ready to take him.

“Be a good girl and hold still,” he instructs, his voice is heavy with want.

His hands ghost over your hips, firm yet patient, waiting for you to obey him. But you don’t. Instead, you push back just slightly, teasing, challenging—just enough to test his patience.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he murmurs, voice dark with amusement.

You hum in response, feigning innocence, but he sees right through it. A slow smirk tugs at his lips as his fingers tighten on your hips, holding you still as he aims his cock toward your entrance. Then, without warning, he drags you back toward him, your breath catching as his warmth presses flush against you.

“You really want to be difficult tonight?” he muses, leaning in until his lips are right by your ear. “Fine. Let’s see how long you can last.”

The next moment, he begins thrusting, slow and deliberate, driving you to the edge with every controlled motion. You bite your lip, refusing to give in so easily, but he notices—of course he does. He always does.

“You’re holding back,” he taunts, his hand sliding up your spine, pressing between your shoulder blades until your chest meets the mattress. “That’s cute.”

Then he pulls away and you mewl at the suddenloss of contact. Then he slips it into you again, all at once and proceeds to thrust into you, hard. A choked sound escapes you before you can stop it, and he chuckles, low and pleased.

“There it is,” he murmurs.

You try to push up again, just to regain some control, but his hand presses firmly against your lower back, keeping you in place.

“Not so fast,” he says. “You wanted to be a brat, didn’t you?” His fingers trail down, teasing, punishing in the slowest way possible. “Now take it like one.”

The fight within you starts to crumble, your body betraying you, giving in to him. He feels it—the way you’re starting to submit, your stubborn defiance slipping away with every passing second.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Now, let’s see if you can behave.”

And with that, he makes sure you do.

Jeongin doesn't ease up—not yet. He keeps you exactly where he wants you, every slow, controlled movement drawing out the pleasure until you’re trembling beneath him. His hand slides up your arm, over your shoulder, then tangles into your hair, giving a gentle but firm tug that sends a shiver down your spine.

“You still with me?” he asks, his voice teasing, laced with dominance.

You nod breathlessly, but that’s not enough for him. His fingers tighten just slightly in your hair, tilting your head back so your cheek is almost against his lips.

“Use your words,” he commands softly.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice shaky but obedient.

A pleased hum rumbles in his chest as he presses an open-mouthed kiss against the side of your neck. “That’s my girl.”

Your hands grip the sheets beneath you, knuckles going pale as he keeps pushing you further, his pace calculated, his touch relentless. Every time you try to regain control, he meets your rebellion with something stronger—something that pulls you right back under him.

“You thought you could win, huh?” His voice is a slow drag, intoxicating. “But look at you now…” His hand slides over your hip, his fingers curling, gripping—owning. “Completely at my mercy.”

You let out a broken sound, and Jeongin chuckles, low and satisfied.

“Are you done fighting me now?” he asks.

You hesitate for half a second, the last trace of defiance flickering in your eyes as you look over your shoulder at him. And then he moves just right, tipping you over that fine line between resistance and surrender, and the fight in you shatters.

Your answer comes in the form of a whimper, your body melting under his touch. That’s all he needs. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Good girl.”

And this time, you don’t push back. You let him have you, completely.

Three more of his hard, deep thrusts into you and you come undone before him, your body collapsing onto the bed. He can feel his release is close as well, he leans down, his mouth hovering close to your ear as he asks, “Where do you want it, mmh?”

You're clearly too disoriented to respond so he buries his head in your neck and places a slobbering kisses there. “Should I come all over your back and claiming you as mine, mmh?”

You turn your head slightly to the side and nod. He smirks at that, his hips keeping the pace going as he grips yours, taking himself to his high almost immediately.

Jeongin pulls out just in time, his seed spurting out and painting pearly white streaks on your back. He slips it back in, wanting to feel you pulsating, quivering around him as you both come down from your highs.

He looks down at his claim on you and smiles in pride. “You're all mine now,” he sighs, before lowering himself on you and roughly kisses your open mouth, “All mine.”

-

Jeongin hums as he wipes a warm cloth across your back, his touch now gentle, a stark contrast to the way he’d handled you earlier. His other hand strokes soothing circles on your arm as he takes care of the mess he left on your skin. Once satisfied, he sets the cloth aside and climbs back into bed beside you, immediately wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

His lips find your forehead first, then your temple, then your cheek—sweet, lingering kisses that make your heart swell. His fingers brush your hair away from your face, tucking the strands behind your ear before his lips meet yours in a slow, affectionate kiss.

You sigh into him, utterly content, and then, out of nowhere, you ask, “What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

Jeongin pulls back slightly, blinking in amusement. A small chuckle escapes him. “That’s the first thing you want to ask me right now?”

You nod, watching him expectantly.

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head before answering. “Vanilla.”

“Vanilla?” You raise an eyebrow, as if unimpressed.

He grins. “It’s a classic. You can never go wrong with it.”

You hum in thought before moving on to your next question. “Okay, favorite book?”

“That’s tough,” Jeongin admits, running his fingers absentmindedly over the curve of your shoulder. “But I think it would have to be The Little Prince.”

Your expression softens. “That’s a good one.”

He nods, smiling. “It is.”

Your next question makes him pause. “How many languages can you speak?”

Jeongin tilts his head, thinking for a moment. “Korean, English, a little bit of French... and Latin.”

That catches your interest. “Latin?”

He smirks at your intrigue. “Yeah.”

“Say something in Latin,” you request, eyes glimmering with curiosity.

He chuckles and takes a second to think. Instead of a single word, he decides to share one of his favorite proverbs. “Ubi amor, ibi fides.”

You blink, waiting for him to translate. “And that means…?”

“Where there’s love, there’s faith,” he explains softly.

You let the words settle between you, their weight sinking in.

Jeongin continues, his voice calm, thoughtful. “Love originates from God, which means when we love, we reflect God himself. Love and faith go hand in hand.”

You watch him, admiration clear in your eyes, and Jeongin can’t help but smile. He brushes his lips against your forehead, murmuring, “You’re proof of that for me.”

A warm silence fills the room, and Jeongin just holds you, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Jeongin keeps his gaze on you, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns along your arm as he lets the weight of his own words settle between you.

"Ubi amor, ibi fides," he repeats, this time softer, like he's tasting the meaning all over again. “Faith isn’t just about believing in something unseen—it’s about trust. About surrendering to something bigger than yourself. And love… love is the same.”

You stay quiet, listening, the warmth in your eyes urging him to continue.

“When you love someone, you place your trust in them. You put faith in them—faith that they won’t hurt you, that they’ll cherish you, that they’ll choose you just as you choose them. Love and faith, they aren’t separate. They exist together.”

A beat of silence passes, and then, you smile. It’s small, gentle, but it holds so much—understanding, appreciation, something deeper that makes Jeongin’s chest ache in the best way.

“That’s beautiful,” you whisper, voice barely above a breath.

Jeongin’s lips quirk up, his heart warming at the way you look at him. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then to the tip of your nose, and finally, to your lips—slow and tender, like a silent prayer.

Ubi amor, ibi fides. That’s why, to him, loving you doesn’t feel like he's turning away from God. It feels like he's turning toward Him.

-

Jeongin hadn’t expected to see Sam so early in the morning, much less kneeling at the altar, his hands clasped together in deep prayer. The solemnity of the scene makes Jeongin hesitate for a moment before he quietly takes a seat in the pew behind him, deciding to wait. The church is silent aside from the occasional flicker of candlelight and the distant creak of wood as the old building settles.

When Sam finally finishes, he makes the sign of the cross and pushes himself up, turning toward Jeongin with a calm but knowing expression. He slides into the pew beside him, settling in with a sigh before speaking.

"Do you have something to confess to me, Jeongin?"

Jeongin blinks, caught off guard. "Confess?"

Sam tilts his head slightly, studying him. "I saw you."

Jeongin’s breath catches. His heartbeat stumbles before picking up pace, his mind racing to decipher Sam’s meaning.

"Saw me…?" he echoes, feigning ignorance.

But Sam only offers him a small, almost amused smile. "That night. Inside the church." He turns his head slightly, watching Jeongin's reaction. "I saw you kissing her."

Jeongin’s stomach drops. The memory of that night floods back—the hush of the church, the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way your lips felt against his in the dim candlelight. He had been careful, or so he thought. But Sam had seen.

Jeongin swallows, his fingers curling slightly against his knees. "...How much did you see?"

"Enough." Sam exhales, leaning back against the pew. "Enough to know that it wasn’t just some passing moment of weakness." He turns his gaze forward, eyes fixed on the altar as if waiting for some divine intervention. "It’s more than that, isn’t it?"

Jeongin doesn’t answer immediately. He looks down, staring at his hands as if the answer could be found in the lines of his palms. He could deny it. He could try to brush it off as a mistake, a lapse in judgment.

But he knows that would be a lie.

So instead, he closes his eyes briefly, exhales, and admits the truth. “Yes.”

Jeongin keeps his gaze lowered as he exhales slowly. "Yes," he repeats, quieter this time. "It’s more than that."

Sam doesn’t react immediately. He simply hums, nodding slightly as if he already knew the answer. Then, after a pause, he says, "Are you here to confess, then?"

Jeongin finally looks up at him, his brow furrowed. "Would it matter?"

Sam tilts his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Not really."

That catches Jeongin off guard. "What do you mean?"

Sam leans forward, resting his arms on the back of the pew in front of them. "I mean, there’s no use in confessing if you don’t intend to stop."

Jeongin’s mouth parts slightly, but no words come out. He suddenly feels exposed, as if Sam has reached straight into his soul and pulled out the conflict that he’s been trying so hard to ignore.

"Are you going to stop seeing her?" Sam asks, voice even.

Jeongin opens his mouth, but hesitation clings to his tongue. He should say yes. That would be the right thing to do. The expected thing. But the words won’t come.

Sam watches him carefully, his silence speaking louder than any confession. With a small sigh, he shakes his head. "Then there’s no use in absolving you."

Jeongin tenses. "Sam—"

"You’re not sorry, Jeongin. At least, not in the way confession requires you to be." Sam turns to look at him directly. "You’re not asking for forgiveness. You’re asking for permission."

Jeongin’s throat tightens. He wants to deny it. He wants to argue. But deep down, he knows Sam is right. He’s not looking to be absolved. He’s looking for reassurance. Validation. Someone to tell him that this—you—isn’t a mistake.

Sam lets out a sigh, leaning back against the pew. “Jeongin, I’ve known you for years. You’re not the type to act on impulse. So tell me, is it something more?”

Jeongin lowers his gaze, his fingers curling together. “It’s more,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I tried to fight it, but I can’t. Being with her… it doesn’t feel like a sin. It feels right.”

Sam hums in thought before turning to look at Jeongin fully. “Then you have to ask yourself, what do you want?”

Jeongin remains silent, his mind tangled in conflicting emotions.

Sam sighs again but offers a reassuring smile. “I won’t tell anyone. Not yet. You need to figure this out on your own, without the weight of judgment hanging over you.”

Jeongin lifts his eyes, gratitude flickering in them. “Thank you, Sam.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Sam replies. “But know this—there’s no shame in choosing love. The only shame is in living a life of regret.”

Jeongin feels the weight of those words settle deep in his chest. He nods, even though his decision isn’t fully made yet. But one thing is certain—he doesn’t think any amount of penance could make him stop wanting you.

-

The church is quiet, save for the faint crackling of candles and Jeongin’s own restless breathing. He sits in the pew, his hands clasped together, fingers digging into each other as if grounding himself. Sam’s words replay in his mind—The only shame is in living a life of regret.

But what if choosing you meant turning his back on everything he had built? What if staying meant turning his back on you?

His chest tightens.

Jeongin exhales shakily and reaches for his phone. His fingers hover over your name before he finally presses the call button.

It barely rings twice before you pick up. “Jeongin?” Your voice is soft, warm, familiar.

He shuts his eyes for a moment, hating what he’s about to say. “I… I can’t see you for a while.”

There’s silence on your end. Then, “Why?”

Jeongin clenches his jaw, his grip on the phone tightening. “I just—” His voice falters. He takes a breath, steadies himself. “I need time to think.”

Another pause. Then you ask, quieter this time, “Think about what?”

His heart aches at the way your voice trembles, but he forces himself to stay firm. “About us.”

The word hangs in the air, suffocating.

When you finally speak, there’s hurt in your voice, but no anger. Just quiet understanding. “Okay.”

It makes his chest ache even more. He almost wishes you would be upset, would demand answers—but instead, you accept it. Just like that.

“I’ll wait,” you add after a moment.

Jeongin swallows the lump in his throat. He nods, even though you can’t see him. “Thank you.”

Then he hangs up, staring at the screen as if it holds the answers he’s looking for.

But it doesn’t.

And for the first time in a long time, Jeongin feels completely lost.

He has always believed in God's plan. In His guidance, His timing. But for the first time, Jeongin feels completely lost.

His heart aches with the weight of his own decision—to put space between you and him. To think. To figure out if he's making the right choice or if he's simply running away from the inevitable. The words he said to you over the phone—"I can't see you for a while."—echo in his head, and he wonders if they hurt you as much as they hurt him to say.

Jeongin exhales sharply, his fingers pressing into his forehead.

He misses you already.

Misses the way you look at him, the way your touch grounds him, the way you make him feel like more than just Father Yang. Like he’s Jeongin, a man with desires, fears, and a heart that longs for something more than a life bound by vows he’s no longer sure he can keep.

But what does that say about him?

What does that say about his faith?

His grip tightens. He feels selfish. Faith is supposed to be about surrender, about putting God above all else. But if love, true love, comes from God—then why does it feel like he’s betraying both?

A sharp breath leaves him as he forces himself to sit back against the pew.

Maybe space will give him clarity. Maybe distance will tell him if what he feels for you is temptation or something deeper, something worth changing his entire life for.

Or maybe...

Maybe he’s already made his choice, and he’s just too afraid to admit it.

-

The scent of burning wax and aged wood lingers in the air as Jeongin listens to the soft-spoken confessions of the parishioners before him. One by one, they enter the booth, voices hushed, burdened with sins that they seek to be absolved from.

A woman confesses to speaking harshly to her husband. A man admits to faltering in his faith. Another prays for forgiveness for the resentment he holds in his heart. Jeongin listens, guiding them with gentle words, offering penance and solace in the name of God.

Then silence.

He waits for the next person, expecting another familiar voice, another routine confession. But when the door creaks open and the last parishioner steps inside, his breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t need to see your face to know it’s you.

The moment you settle in, the moment your quiet, trembling breath slips through the lattice screen, he feels it. A shift in the air, a tightening in his chest—something unspoken, yet undeniably there.

And then your voice comes, barely above a whisper.

The wooden divider separates you from him, but the air between you is thick—heavy with unspoken words, raw emotions, and the weight of everything left unresolved.

Jeongin sits on the other side, his fingers curled tightly around his rosary, knuckles white. He hadn’t expected to hear your voice through the lattice screen tonight.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” Your voice is quiet, trembling, but laced with something deeper—pain, desperation. “It’s been… some time since my last confession.”

Jeongin swallows, his heart hammering in his chest. “What is it that burdens your heart?” His voice is steady, but his hands shake.

You exhale shakily. “I don’t know if this is a sin, Father, but… I love someone.”

His breath catches.

“And I miss him,” you continue, your voice cracking slightly. “I’ve been praying every night, asking God to bring him back to me. I kneel beside my bed, clasp my hands, and beg Him to let me have him again.” A bitter laugh escapes you. “But nothing changes. He’s still gone. And I don’t know if that means God is telling me to move on… or if that means he never wanted to come back.”

Jeongin shuts his eyes, his grip on the rosary tightening as a deep ache spreads through his chest.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whisper. “How long am I supposed to wait? How long until the emptiness goes away?” You inhale shakily. “Because the truth is… I feel more alone than before.”

Silence stretches between you.

Jeongin’s throat tightens, words clawing at him, begging to be spoken—but he can’t. He can only press his fingers to his lips, as if to hold back the confession that wants to spill out of him.

That he misses you too. That every night, he fights the urge to pick up his phone, to hear your voice, to run to you and never look back. That he doesn’t know how to be whole without you anymore.

But he stays silent. Because if he speaks, if he admits what his heart already knows… he’s afraid he’ll never be able to let you go.

You wait, but no answer comes.

And that’s your answer.

You let out a small, broken sigh before whispering, “Thank you for listening, Father.”

Then you rise, footsteps retreating, the door creaking as you step out of the booth.

Jeongin doesn’t move. He just sits there, staring blankly at the wooden divider, feeling more lost than ever.

-

The next day, Jeongin commute for almost an hour to get to St. Augustine church, where Sam is assigned in. The church is quieter than he expected. Even as he steps inside, the echo of his own footsteps feels almost intrusive.

He makes his way toward the pews, taking a seat in the dim light of the sanctuary. The flickering candles cast long shadows, their glow barely reaching the vaulted ceilings. Jeongin folds his hands in his lap, staring ahead at the crucifix mounted above the altar.

He waits.

Through the silence, he hears faint murmurs from the other end of the church. Sam must still be finishing his Bible study. Jeongin doesn't mind. If anything, the stillness gives him a moment to steady himself—to gather what little resolve he has left.

It isn’t long before he hears footsteps approaching.

Sam doesn’t say anything at first, only making his way to the pew beside Jeongin and settling in next to him. They sit there in silence, the weight of unspoken words thick in the air.

Then, finally, Sam exhales.

“You didn’t come here for confession,” he says, his voice calm yet knowing. “That must mean you’ve already made up your mind.”

Jeongin keeps his eyes ahead, staring at the altar, his fingers loosely intertwined in his lap. He hears the certainty in Sam’s voice, the quiet understanding behind his words.

For a moment, he doesn’t respond. Because Sam is right. He didn’t come here to confess. He came because he already knows what he wants—what he has to do.

Jeongin inhales slowly. “I thought it would be harder,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “Making the choice.”

Sam hums, tilting his head slightly as he studies him. “And yet, you look like it’s tearing you apart.”

Jeongin’s lips press together. Sam has always been able to see through him.

He exhales, his hands tightening slightly. “I love her,” he says at last, the words raw, unfiltered. The moment they leave his lips, a wave of something crashes over him. Relief, maybe. Or certainty. “And if love is supposed to reflect God, then why does it feel like I’m betraying Him?”

Sam is quiet for a moment before he speaks again. “Because you were taught to believe that loving someone this way is a betrayal.”

Jeongin swallows.

“Did you ever want to be a priest?” Sam asks, not unkindly. “Or did you just think you had to be one?”

Jeongin turns his head, meeting Sam’s gaze for the first time. The older man’s expression is unreadable, but his eyes are steady, patient, waiting.

Jeongin wets his lips. “I wanted to serve God,” he says, and it’s the truth. “I still do.”

Sam nods. “Then serve Him.”

Jeongin blinks. “What?”

“You said it yourself,” Sam says. “Love originates from God. Serving Him doesn’t have to mean shutting yourself away from the world.” He pauses. “And it certainly doesn’t mean shutting your heart away from someone He led you to.”

Jeongin breathes in sharply. His mind reels, but somewhere deep in his chest, something settles.

Sam clasps his hands together, leaning back slightly. “You’ve made your decision, Jeongin. You came here to say it out loud.” He tilts his head. “So say it.”

Jeongin looks at him, then exhales.

“I’m leaving the priesthood.”

The words linger in the quiet air of the church, heavier than anything Jeongin has ever spoken before. But this time, for the first time, they don’t feel like a loss. They feel like freedom.

-

Jeongin stands outside your apartment door, his heart pounding, his hands trembling slightly at his sides. This is it. The moment he’s been working toward, the choice he’s finally made. There’s no turning back now—not that he would ever want to. He raises his hand and knocks.

It’s barely a few seconds before the door swings open, as if you had been waiting for him all along.

And then he sees it. The rosary. Wrapped tightly around your fingers, clutched to your chest like a lifeline.

His breath catches.

Your eyes meet his, wide and shimmering, disbelief and relief crashing together in one overwhelming wave of emotion. Your lips part, but no words come out. Instead, tears spill over your cheeks, and before Jeongin can even think, you launch yourself forward, arms wrapping around him in a desperate, shaking embrace.

A choked sound leaves you, something between a sob and a breath of his name, muffled against his shoulder.

Jeongin closes his eyes and holds you tighter. “I’m here,” he murmurs, his voice steady, unwavering. “I’m here now.”

Your fingers dig into the fabric of his coat, like you’re afraid he’ll slip away, like you need proof that he’s real.

He presses his lips to your hair, his grip firm, grounding. “You’re not alone anymore,” he whispers. “You have me.” He swallows, voice thick with emotion. “Always.”

You sob again, but this time, it’s lighter, almost a breath of relief. You nod against his chest, your whole body trembling in his arms.

As Jeongin stands there, holding you in his arms, he realizes that this moment—this fragile, breathtaking moment—is the answer he’s been searching for all along. The weight of uncertainty, of fear and hesitation, slowly unravels, replaced by something steadier, something undeniable.

Love.

Not just the kind he’s always known, the kind that’s bound by duty and sacrifice, but the kind that feels like warmth after the cold, like light breaking through stained glass. The kind that isn’t separate from faith but a part of it, interwoven in every whispered prayer, every unspoken longing.

He cups your jaws with both hands and tilts your head toward him, as he looks into your eyes, he knows—this is where he’s meant to be. Right here. Holding you. Loving you.

Then he kisses you, with every fiber of his being, committing himself into this love but at the same time, breaking away from the doubts and fears that shackles him.

You pull back just enough to look at him, your face streaked with tears, but your lips curve into a small, wobbly smile. He lifts a hand, gently brushing away the dampness on your cheeks with his thumb, his touch lingering, reverent.

“Come inside,” you whisper.

And Jeongin follows, stepping over the threshold not just into your home, but into a future he’s finally ready to embrace.

-

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[seungminstaehyun]

CROWDED.

Lee Know x reader. (s,f)

Chapters: Wrong Crowd / In The Crowd.

Synopsis: Minho’s family grows bigger after you gave birth to his daughter, Byeol. It’s not easy to raise a child in his working environment as a tattoo artist but his parenting skill is put to test as Byeol enters school. (22k words)

Author’s note: Sorry for the late delivery. it’s longer than I expected hehe enjoy it nonetheless!

Keep reading

[seungminstaehyun]

the boy is bad news | h.hj smau

ch 32 - something’s changed

genre: angst, smut, social media au (with written parts), college au, enemies to lovers

summary: An aspiring journalist, you are the news editor for The Uni Chronicles; the campus newspaper, popular for delivering breaking news at the drop of a hat and providing detailed articles about the various happenings around your university. You think you’ve covered every story there was to cover before you’re tasked with producing an in-depth editorial on a student whose name is on everyone’s lips—Hwang Hyunjin.

wc: 2.9k

masterlist

He didn’t think much before grabbing his keys to leave after he read the messages from Chan. Seungmin, the man you’ve been madly in love with for over a year, is in a relationship with someone else. Hyunjin should be happy about this—he can finally make his move now that his competition is out of the picture. He can finally go all in and prove to you that he’s the one you should be with instead. He should be ecstatic at this chance to win your affections—but he isn’t.

His stomach is in knots as he approaches your door. From the moment he heard the news, Hyunjin’s mind went into a frenzy worrying about you. How will you take this? Will you be sad? Angry? He’s scared about you getting hurt, fearing the look you’ll give him when he tells you the news, the tears that may come, and most of all, how much it’ll crush him to watch your heart break.

The mere thought of your pained expression sends a pang to his chest. How should he comfort you? What could he do to alleviate the wound? Hyunjin jumps ahead of himself, contemplating how to handle the aftermath before he’s even sorted out a plan to reveal the news to you. His mind is racing almost as fast as his heart. He paces back and forth on the sidewalk in front of your apartment, hands making a mess of his hair as he struggles to formulate the right words to tell you.

What am I even doing here? Hyunjin thinks, hesitating to knock on the door. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with cold air to cool his nerves. Slowly, he opens them again, nearly leaping in shock when he sees you appear before him, your head poking out from the side of the door.

“I saw you from the window, do you want to come in?” You ask, brows furrowed in curiosity.

Hyunjin’s mind blanks for a moment as he processes your words and waits for the surprise from your sudden presence to wear off.

“Y-yeah. Thanks.” He mumbles. The uneasiness he feels from what he’s about to say, the flutter that thrills his heart upon seeing you in your adorably oversized pajama shirt, it all leaves him in a daze.

You lead Hyunjin to your living room, expecting him to take a seat on the couch, but he remains standing, so you stay standing as well.

“So, what did you need to tell me?” Your voice quivers as you speak.

Hyunjin looks anxious, fidgeting with his rings and combing his fingers through his hair repeatedly. You also start to feel jittery as you try to predict what it was that brought him to your doorstep tonight. Could it possibly be a confession, or was that just wishful thinking? The anticipation was killing you, and his nervous demeanor wasn’t doing anything to help you calm down.

“So…” Hyunjin clears his throat. “I just found something out that I think you’d be interested in knowing.” He slaps a hand to his head. “Ugh, interested is the wrong word, I don’t know how to explain this—“

He sighs and tries to start again. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m telling you this because I think you deserve to know sooner than later.”

“Damn it Hyunjin, can you just spit it out already? I have no idea what you’re talking about but you’re making me nervous.” You groan.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m bad at explaining.” He pauses to look at you, his anxiety shooting through the roof.

“Seungmin is dating someone.”

Silence fills the room as you digest his words. Seungmin is dating someone. Your unrequited love story has finally come to an end. Deep down, you knew this day would come eventually. All the years you spent silently crushing on him, admiring him from afar and never daring to express your feelings—you knew it was a hopeless infatuation, a one-sided love affair. Is that why, in this moment of clarity, you don’t feel sad? You had prepared yourself for this outcome, and never really considered the possibility of your feelings ever being returned. Maybe that’s what made the blow less painful, easier to accept.

“Who is he dating?” You finally break the silence.

Hyunjin meets your gaze with apprehension, before hesitantly answering. “Yoona.”

Damn. You had a feeling there was something going on between them and your suspicions were right. It all made a lot of sense. They were two people on the same level—intelligent, ambitious, successful. Of course they make a perfect match, it would be naive to think that either of them would settle for anything less. But this realization couldn’t stop you from feeling a bit foolish. How humiliating is it to have ever believed you stood a chance against her? It’s obvious that she surpasses you in every imaginable category. You lost a battle you clearly weren’t qualified for, and to be told all of this by Hyunjin, who knows how much you’ve struggled to prove yourself to Seungmin and Yoona, was an even bigger embarrassment.

You’re frustrated with yourself for once again letting your ignorant fantasies get the best of you. You feel stupid. Realizing how pitiful you must look in front of Hyunjin, your eyes begin to sting with tears. He probably thinks you’re such a fool. He always teased you about your crush on Seungmin, and he must feel smug seeing how it played out in the end. Hyunjin sees the tears about to fall from your eyes and reaches a hand towards you, but you back away.

“Did you tell me this to rub it in my face?” You mutter, wiping your eyes with your T-shirt sleeve.

“What? No! Why would I do that?” Hyunjin retorts.

“I don’t know. You must think I look pathetic right now.” You sniffle.

“God, you’re so frustrating sometimes.” Hyunjin sighs. “I was worried about you this whole time…but now you’re somehow more upset at me than you are about the news.”

He plops down with a huff and leans his head back on the couch.

“I’m not upset at you…” You cautiously take a seat beside him. “I just feel a little embarrassed about the whole thing.”

“Embarrassed? What do you have to be embarrassed about?” Hyunjin questions. “Seungmin is the one who made a mistake, shouldn’t you be disappointed?”

“I don’t know, not really.”

Hyunjin looks at you with wide eyes. “So you’re okay with this?”

“I think so. I kind of expected this to happen for a while now, so I’m not as hurt by it.” You lean back on the couch next to him. “In a way, it’s a bit of a relief to finally let go of that part of my life. But I just feel stupid for holding on to that hopeless crush for so long.”

“I don’t think it was stupid.”

“I do.” You chuckle. “But I guess everyone’s a little stupid when they’ve caught feelings for someone else.”

“You can say that again.” He mutters. “But you can’t help who you fall for, so you shouldn’t feel embarrassed about what happened. Just because Seungmin didn’t feel the same doesn’t mean someone else won’t.”

You softly smile at his words. “I know, you’re right. I have a bad habit of looking down on myself. It just kind of sucks when the girl he ended up with is better than me on so many levels.”

“Y/N, stop comparing yourself to other people.” Hyunjin huffs. “Because there’s no one in the world who’s like you.”

Hearing him say that makes your heart jump and effectively shuts you up. “I’m sorry, I’m doing it again.” You mumble. “I’ll try to stop thinking like that.”

“Good, because I don’t like when you belittle yourself.” He frowns. “It makes me mad.”

You and Hyunjin sit side by side, gazing up at the ceiling. Your hands are tucked in your lap but your shoulders are touching. This simple physical contact somehow calms you down and you turn your head to look up at him. “Were you really worried about me?”

Still looking up at the ceiling, he answers. “I was.”

You lean your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. “Thank you, Hyunjin.”

“For telling you? Chan warned me against it, but I figured you’d want to know as soon as possible.”

“No, for worrying about me.”

Chuckling, he rests his head on yours. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

“Did you think I was going to take it badly?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think much to be honest. I just felt like I needed to tell you right away, and I was scared it would hurt you.”

You shift your head to sneak a glance at him and notice a light blush across his cheeks which brings a fuzzy feeling to your stomach.

“You’re sweet, Jinnie. I’m glad you came tonight.” You smile and snuggle into his side.

Hyunjin’s stomach erupts with butterflies. He stiffens momentarily at your touch before relinquishing his guard and melting into your embrace. Never did he think he’d find himself rushing to comfort a girl while she’s heartbroken over another guy, yet here he was, racing to be by your side. Everyone’s a little stupid when they’ve caught feelings, huh? Hyunjin knows he has affection for you, but he hadn’t realized how bad it really was until it was too late.

This is much worse than he ever imagined. Because presently, all he can think about is the touch of your head resting on his shoulder, the dizzying smell of your shampoo, the sound of your breathy laugh, and how desperate he is to hear it again. Hyunjin has already surrendered all of his pride, the ego he’s built for years now, never before losing to another man—to be beside the one girl who chose somebody else over him. But no matter how much it’s a jab to his pride, it hurts him more to see you sad. That’s why he’s here, and that’s why he’ll never leave, not until you ask him to.

Tonight, your smile was enough. Hyunjin is content knowing that you’ve taken the news well and that you’re okay. But he’d be lying if he said his impulsive decision to come over wasn’t slightly self-indulgent. After all, he wants you to be his, and hearing that you’re able to move on from your old crush is making him dangerously excited.

But his excitement will have to wait. Now is not the time to make any reckless moves. Hyunjin reminds himself to be patient, just like Chan told him. He already made a rash decision to come here and shouldn’t test his luck any further.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Hyunjin caresses your cheek before sitting up straight, causing you to shift your weight off his shoulder. “I’m sorry for barging in so suddenly tonight, I should probably leave.”

“But I don’t want you to go.” You speak without thinking. “I mean, I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Hyunjin swallows his saliva, nervously avoiding your gaze. Yet, against his better judgement, he concedes. “Okay, I’ll stay with you.”

You immediately grin at his words, then blush in embarrassment at your giddy reaction.

“I’ll um, sleep on the couch then.”

“Are you sure? My bed is more comfortable though.” Hearing yourself turns you even redder. You can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth right now, yet you don’t take them back.

Hyunjin’s eyes widen at your suggestion. “I, uh, I don’t think I should.” He clears his throat. “I don’t want to intrude on your private space.”

Truthfully, Hyunjin would love nothing more than to spend the night in your bed—every night, for that matter. But he knows he’d be setting himself up for failure if he agrees to sleep beside you. There’s no chance in the world that he’d be able to hold back, no amount of self-control that could keep him from giving in to his true desires. You are much too tempting, even without trying, and Hyunjin fears he might end up doing something he’ll regret.

“I’ll sleep on the couch with you then.”

The words fall from your mouth before you could stop them. You’re as equally shocked as Hyunjin to hear yourself. You don’t know what’s come over you, but you just want to be close to him, as close as possible. Being around Hyunjin makes you feel safe. His presence brings you a special comfort that only he is capable of giving, and maybe you’re seeking solace from the hurt you’re feeling tonight. Or maybe you simply want to be close to him.

Regardless of the reason behind your insistence on spending the night together, your heart is dead-set on it. And after trying his best to maneuver out of this situation, Hyunjin’s defenses are down. He doesn’t have the will to say no to you, not when you’re looking at him with those irresistible pleading eyes, and especially not when his heart is screaming that he wants it too.

So you find yourselves laying together on the sofa. It’s silly really, choosing to sleep on this cramped piece of furniture over your much more spacious bed somehow makes you feel less uncomfortable, less…questionable.

Because beds are the place for intimate moments and sinful acts. Couches are more neutral, not as suggestive, friendly even. Nothing provocative could take place on a dingy couch. Then why is it so difficult for you to fall asleep? Why does it feel like your heart is beating out of your chest?

“You can lay on me if you want.” Hyunjin mentally curses at himself because he knows this is going to make things even more challenging for him, but you look so miserable trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, he couldn’t stay silent.

Flustered realizing that Hyunjin noticed your restlessness, you silently take him up on his offer. When your head meets his chest, his arm swings around your shoulder and you both release a relieved sigh. You’re instantly relaxed, as if his arms were made to lull you to sleep. The touch of his silken skin against yours, the rhythmic raising and dropping his chest, his warm breath brushing past your cheek, it all felt too perfect.

You lift you head, greedy to catch a glimpse of him while he’s asleep. His eyelashes flutter with dreams and his lips were parted, releasing shallow pants. He’s too perfect. You think to yourself as you study his features. His plush lips always mesmerized you with how lush and rosy they always appear, not to mention how lavish they feel.

You’re entranced by him, his presence pulling you closer. Before you know it, you’re mere inches from his face, you can feel his breath on your lips, drawing you in.

As if he felt your gaze, Hyunjin slowly opens his eyes. You’re startled to be caught staring at him, your faces almost touching, his eyes fixed on yours. But he doesn’t question it, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he closes the distance, grazing his lips against yours before locking them in a kiss.

You’re both frozen, unmoving for a moment when your lips connect, as if teetering on the edge of a cliff, unsure if you’ll stay grounded or fall. The warmth from his lips sends a jolt of electricity through you, throwing you completely off-balance, and you take the plunge.

Hyunjin kisses you with restraint. His soft pecks lingering a bit too long, but never daring to cross the border of lust and sexual desire. He stays within the realm of unadulterated intimacy, though he struggles to withhold his passion. He doesn’t know how else to tell you—he was never any good with words—so instead he shows you, hoping you will understand by the way his lips move against yours, leisurely, savoring every moment, yet unsatisfied and longing for more.

He’s never kissed you like this. Or maybe, you’ve never kissed him like this. Hyunjin’s lips are firm in their movement, yet graze yours ever so delicately. You hope this is a lucid dream that you could take control of. You’d stop time and kiss him forever.

The illusion is broken when your humanity takes over, the need to fill your lungs causing you to release and gasp for air. Was it the lack of oxygen or the kiss itself that was making you lightheaded?

Hyunjin strokes your hair, lightly patting your head back down to his chest. You lay down, the sound of your racing pulse blasting in your ears.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispers, choosing not to acknowledge what just happened.

“Good night, Hyunjin.” You reply, following along in his feigned ignorance.

You close your eyes and try to numb the adrenaline in your system. Resuming your position beside him, you can’t help but feel like something’s changed. The comfort that Hyunjin’s presence normally brings you is now replaced with intoxicating tension that you can’t ignore. You try your best to calm your heart, but to no avail—it was going to be a restless night.

a/n: some rare fluff for y’all~ you’re welcome 😇 I hope you guys enjoy this one! their dynamics are changing~~~ alas, we’re approaching the last arch of this series 😪 but i still have plenty in store for you guys! lemme know whatcha think, thanks for all the feedback 🫶

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[seungminstaehyun]

Dressing Down | hhj

❝𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬?❞

↳ A shopping trip with the gloriously attractive, delightfully oblivious man you've lusted after since time began? During a particularly lengthy dry spell? Definitely not a recipe for disaster.

↳ Hyunjin x female reader

↳ 5.8k

↳ Best friends to lovers, romance, mutual pining, angst and sexual tension with a happy ending, eventual smut

! Explicit content, adult themes throughout, suitable for 18+ readers only !

「© July 2020, rewritten July 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

Twelve sharp, he’d said.

Be on time, he’d said.

Do not miss your alarm, he’d said.

And so it is that Hwang Hyunjin, ever a paragon of hypocrisy, is running late. You’d be surprised if it wasn’t so utterly on brand.

The last message you sent him says something towards your growing impatience:

<< where the fuck are you hwang

Feeling (and looking) not unlike a spare dick at a wedding, you loiter outside the mall entrance, glancing up and down the busy street for any sign of the honey-blonde head you fully intend to forcefully remove from the shoulders. It’s warm today—nicely sunny, the sky is a pleasant powdery blue—which posed good enough reason to dig out the summer wear from the deepest recesses of your wardrobe set for autumn. Days like this, you rather enjoy; waking up to unexpected warmth, the universal lifting of moods that, in your case, at least lasted until your best friend soured it with his tardiness.

Perhaps it wouldn’t irritate so much if he hadn’t pressed so hard against your insistence on picking him up in favour of driving himself, yet the reasons for that were plain enough: he’s just purchased a brand-new BMW convertible, billiard red and as garish as garish comes. Quite how a second-year college students affords such an expense continues to elude you, but where Hyunjin is concerned, flamboyance is par for the course.

Just as you’re about to send a second (far more graphic) threatening text, the distant growling of the engine you’ve been conditioned to loathe carries from down the street. The glaring red chassis approaches, catching sharp angles of sunlight. You shrink into yourself, more so embarrassed by the thump of the obnoxious EDM track that blares from the thing unfiltered. When he pulls up curb side, all Ray-Bans, white grin and windswept blonde tresses, you hurry over, leaning through the drawn down window.

“Do you have any idea how much of a wanker you look right now?”

He kills the ignition, the gratuitous music dying out. Passers-by double take, their faces awed. You wonder which is doing it; the car or the man. Hyunjin pouts, Ray-Bans sliding down his nose.

“Also, you are so fucking late,” you hiss. “I can’t believe you.”

Unable to bear being the centre of attention any longer, you about-face and march towards the mall, through throngs of people. You hear the abrupt slamming of a car door, the electronic beep of its locks, rushed footsteps that catch up just as you make it to the revolving entrance.

“Are you, like, seriously mad?” He grabs your shoulder.

“Yes! You were the one that went on so hard about being on time, blah, blah fucking blah, yet I was the one left waiting like a tool. Then you have the nerve to make an entrance like that?” you gesture vaguely towards the BMW. “It’s so—”

“Man, I’m sorry,” he pouts again, now holding both your shoulders. “I didn’t think I was that late.”

You roll your eyes, shrugging out of his grip, stepping into the revolving glass segment that he quickly hops in with you. He guides your paced steps by hands on your shoulders—again—and once out of the spinning death-trap, slips his arms down and around your waist from behind, pulling you against him.

“Don’t be mad,” he coos, “I’m super sorry. I’m the sorriest I’ve ever been—”

You struggle half-heartedly. “Release me, demon.”

“I’ll make it up to you?” he speaks into your neck, squeezes you tightly, and despite yourself, you laugh (squeal)? Staying angry with Hyunjin is about as feasible as ice cream withstanding the sun.

“Please, kitten?”

And your struggle ceases momentarily; in all the years you’ve known him, he’s never addressed you like that. Something base and wanting throbs in your chest, and while it’s far from the first time you’ve experienced such a sensation in his company, it is the first time it’s caught you off guard. He unwinds himself from around you; you step away quickly, glad of the space.

“Fine,” you clear your throat. “You’re forgiven.”

Hyunjin grins, smug with his victory. “Knew you couldn’t stay mad.”

“Shut up.”

You start walking; he falls into pace with you. The mall is as busy as one expects it should be, and while you definitely have an objective for today, you’re not averse to looking around. Anonymous jazz plays quietly over the mall speakers, shoppers go about their business in groups or alone, the bravest of them with kids in pushchairs or toddlers on leads. Teens outmanoeuvre the elderly when there’s a crowd jam—usually nearest the shop fronts—and the scent of commercialism hits in targeted waves: perfume at the beauty outlet, fresh cookies at the bakery, soap at the hipster store.

Your name is called as Hyunjin nudges you. “I, uh... didn’t actually look like a wanker back there, did I?”

“Kind of.”

He grimaces. “Wasn’t what I was going for.”

You scoff into your palm. “Should put that on a bumper sticker: ‘this car makes me look like a wanker, sorry.’”

“Oh yeah, you’d love that, huh?” he laughs.

“It’d be a marked improvement.”

He glares at you, the glint of mischief in his dark eyes. The nature of your relationship never up for debate when you’re with him like this; easily, comfortably. Whatever struggles come from taking in the angular planes of his stunning face are yours alone.

“Jerk,” he deadpans.

You poke your tongue out at him. “Bitch.”

***

“Hyunjin!”

You can only reason that clothing shops make their chairs so goddamn uncomfortable by deliberate design: buy something and get the fuck out, is the key takeaway. Sat on the horrid plastic thing and calling Hyunjin’s name into the men’s dressing room, you wonder if he’s ignoring you on purpose.

Taking mercy on your posture and rising, you call to him again. “Are you done or did you find Narnia?”

Inside the dressing room is a long row of cubicles draped by dark velvet privacy curtains. Chic spotlights beam down from the ceiling, leaving white spots in your eyes when you leave them focused for too long. You rub them when just that happens, resigned to action. That shirt should not have taken this long to try on.

The end most cubicle is the only one drawn over; you head to it, detecting the grumbling grunts of a struggle the closer you get.

“Everything alright in there?” you ask dubiously.

“Wh— Why are you in here?” Hyunjin complains from inside. “I’m fine!”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

More struggling resounds from beyond; there’s a thump against the wall. You bite back a laugh.

“Do you need help?”

“Why do people just fucking lie about sizes?” he whines, and after a moment, the chaos stops.

“Okay. I’m coming in.”

“Don't you dare—”

And in pulling back the curtain to slip inside, what awaits you is not quite what you expected. Having tangled himself in something of a makeshift strait jacket, the man’s right arm is elevated uncomfortably, the shirt constricting him by bicep and shoulder. His left hand holds the hem that’s ridden up his torso, too small to apparently drag over his chest. Quite how he managed it, you can’t begin to imagine, but regardless, he’s thoroughly stuck.

“Well...”

“Don’t,” he sighs. “Just help me.”

His complexion tinctured a rose shade of mortification, he begrudgingly allows you to assess the state of things. Force seems like the most obvious solution, and so you instruct him to turn around. Now facing the floor-length mirror, he grimaces when you tug the back of the shirt, the material pinching his skin when you drag it up.

“Ouch, damn it, be careful!”

“How the hell did you even get this on?” you huff, his temporary discomfort an afterthought at best.

“It has a zipper, but it got stuck. Fuck, watch it!”

“Oh, you better stop complaining, Hwang Hyunjin. I’ll leave your ass here to rot.”

He whines exaggeratedly. “I don’t want to die like that. I’m too young and pretty.”

Which he is, but validating that would be a fatal mistake. It’s not like you’re ignorant to the toned planes of his muscled back.

“Where’s the zipper?” you ask, giving up on force.

He turns awkwardly, the dressing room hardly allowing for such manoeuvring.

“At the front. Here—” with his free hand he tugs down the collar, exposing the locking mechanism.

“Need a gentle touch with these things,” you mutter, stretching out the fabric to allow for a straight pull. A little easing and working of the zipper, and it budges slightly.

“It’s coming. Just a little more—”

“God, please,” Hyunjin wails.

Thoughtless is the way you brace your other hand against his abdomen, firm and warm under your palm, more so than is probably usual in light of his self-inflicted stress and tension. Your eyes meet for a brief second—a fleeting recognition of the touch, of the sensation—and you bring focus back to freeing him. A final guided pull of the zipper brings it sliding from chest to hem, the relief immediate as the shirt falls open on him. His arm comes down and he sags against the mirror, and in his blissful reprieve he must not notice the way you unashamedly take in the way he looks half-dressed: the sheen of exertion on his tan skin, the ridges of his abdomen relaxing and contracting with his heaving breaths, the glow the spotlights cast on him. For the simple fact is that Hyunjin is a model of a man, his beauty enough to render the busiest of minds an empty void. And in that void, when robbed of sense or shame, you’ll admit to seeing to the matter of your own relief, the last such occurrence being when, shower fresh, he opted to walk around your flat bearing nothing but a damp towel slung low around his svelte hips. You were fully (and unwittingly, on his part) apprised as to the impressive endowment of your best friend, and with the emergence of such information, a date with your toys was a given.

“Thank fuck for that,” Hyunjin groans, rubbing his sore shoulder.

You pull yourself together. “You’re welcome.”

“What would I do without my little kitten to save me, huh?”

Your swift escape from the dressing room is somewhat cowardly, but with your composure already in so fragile a state, stopping to address the sudden use of this infernal pet name doesn’t strike you as the wisest of choices.

“Meet you outside,” you call over your shoulder, your rushed pace through the clothing shop matching that of the pounding in your chest.

Back in the mall proper, the arousal lingers, setting you on cool edge. Sure enough in yourself to know that nothing outside true relief will ever alleviate it, and you’re not likely to get that until you’re home alone, you settle on pacing. It helps somewhat; staying in motion, not stewing.

When Hyunjin emerges from the shop empty handed some moments later, he’s all smiles once more.

“Where next?” he asks brightly.

Focus is good, you suppose.

“Need new shampoo,” you sigh.

Falling into stride, you walk the upper floor of the bustling mall, knowing vaguely the route to the nearest beauty outlet. It’s warmer up here, you think. Hard to tell what’s responsible for your sudden flustering.

Hyunjin frowns at you pointedly.

“What?” you ask.

“Why new shampoo?” he pouts. “I like the stuff you use now.”

Not particularly taken with the idea of explaining that your current drugstore brand appears to have an unholy drying effect on your ends, you simply shrug.

“Just feel like a change. Do I need your permission?”

And in the moment that follows, you’re drawn close into a sudden embrace secured by his hand around your nape. Standing a head taller than you, it’s no task for him to take a deep inhalation from your crown, the sensation a bolt of hot lightning down your spine. When he breaks away, you shove him by the chest, albeit weakly.

“What the hell was that?” you gripe, heat in your cheeks.

“You smell good.”

“What?”

“Your shampoo,” he presses, “makes me feel some kind of way, I swear. Don’t change it.”

You wonder how much of what he’s saying is true, how much is purely for the gag. He finds no small amount of pleasure in teasing you, such has always been the case, but when his ribbing crosses the boundaries of physical space, things get murky. You ache for validation from him on a level too intimate to entertain, and when he so recklessly manhandles and compliments and asks things of you...

“Don’t sniff me,” you deadpan, turning from him and pacing ahead, unable to summon the cool collectiveness of character that nonchalance requires.

He catches up quickly. “So you’ll keep it?”

Your silence attests to your surrender. He hums in knowing victory, a gentle elbow nudging you. Would he find such delight in it all if he knew how sorely you pined?

Several minutes of walking—you stroll straight past the beauty outlet—and a particularly intriguing shop front comes into view.

“Hold up,” you poke his arm, then point. “Want to go in there.”

He follows your direction, his face drawing notably vacant. Valid, you suppose. It’s not every day one visits an ‘adult store’, and when one does, they’re probably not with their bestie.

“You, uh, don’t have to come with if you don’t want.”

His brows pull together under blonde locks, hands shove into his pockets. “What do you need in there?”

“I just want to see,” you reply honestly, having had it in mind to forgo the sex toy section in favour of perusing the lingerie; a few nice bras never go amiss, and on the vibrator front, you’re as stocked as is needed. Yet in light of Hyunjin’s apparent trepidation, an idea altogether mischievous dawns on you.

“Wait out here, man,” you laugh, pat his shoulder. “I appreciate it’ll be a little much for you.”

Hyunjin sneers, “Fuck off. I’m coming in,” and with that, strides into the adult store without so much as a falter. Not even remotely surprised by his rising to the presented challenge, you follow him inside.

A little revenge for the suffering he’s inflicted, perhaps?

***

Never one to unnecessarily primp and preen, the sensation you find yourself amidst is decidedly foreign. It feels like confidence—tall and strong, it has your back unwaveringly—but is tinctured with a giddy anticipation that has you reaching for your phone to take a picture.

You look indescribably good. The thin black straps of the lace bralette criss-cross neatly over your chest, the deep plunge accentuates your cleavage. Dainty frills run the hem of the item to decorate your upper ribs, as they do the matching silken thong it comes with. The band pinches your hips in just the right, appealing way, offering a satisfying snap against your flesh when you pick at it, intrigued. Such extravagance isn’t in your nature, but even you possess a level of self-awareness when it comes to knowing one’s strengths; lingerie might just have to join them.

A steeling breath in, and you peek beyond the dressing room curtain, glancing up and down the empty room.

“Hyunjin?”

His name carries through the space, but no response comes. You shift nervously.

“Hyunjin!”

“What!?” he hisses.

“Could you come here?”

A second of silence, then he whisper-shouts, “You lose the last of your marbles? That’s the women’s dressing room!”

“There’s nobody else here, just come through! I need your eyes.”

“No way.”

Irritated, you resort to dirty tactics.

“Fine. Forget it. Guess I don’t really need a second opinion on this lingerie.”

Something of a gamble to hinge his compliance on a promise of seeing your semi-naked form; there’s nothing to say he’s even remotely interested enough to be enticed. And if he is, what questions does that raise? Amid this minor—terribly belated—crisis, Hyunjin appears from around the corner.

Oh, God.

Too late to tell him to turn back, he hurriedly crosses the room, darting into the cubicle and drawing the curtain back with a sharp drag. Pressed to the wall to make room for his entrance—this one is even smaller than the last—it’s only when the rush of stealth passes to leave the muted sound of your combined breaths that you realise the proximity; the gravity.

Hyunjin visibly swallows. Close enough that you see the way his pupils dilate when the moment stills and he rakes a gaze from your toe to top, lingering where the lingerie clings snuggest. His jaw locks firm.

“What do you think?” you whisper, unsure if his looming is intentional or not.

He wets his bottom lip by brief dart of tongue and shakes his head. “You really want my opinion?” he asks, his voice a tone of gravel hitherto unheard.

He steps forward inasmuch as the space will allow; more of a shuffle, a readjustment of stance. Your body throbs when his arm props beside your head; caged in and feeling every inch the prey to his predatory nature, your knees all but threaten to give out.

“I think you know exactly how fucking hot you look.”

And his other hand steadily drops to the curve of your waist, a touch so featherlight it may well pass for hovering. Desire curls around you, and in its wake you arch from the wall, seeking closeness to him. The corner of his mouth is pulled up in a grin, your breath catches tight in your throat. It’s equal parts mercy and wickedness when he touches you with intent, a glide from waist to hip that settles at the band of your thong. An inaudible sigh when he picks carefully at the thin strap, your lips parted in such voracious wanting of the man, yet he gives nothing so obvious away. In snapping the material against your flesh, you all but whimper, for as slow and controlled as this is—as he is—it still feels to be happening too fast.

He drags in a heavy, shuddering breath; arm removed from the wall, both hands travel up your sides, across your prickling navel, to your chest where he traces the lace of the bralette with fingertips.

“Hyunjin...”

Your whisper falls to another whine when he cups your breasts gently, the swell of your cleavage so appealing to him. In pushing them up and together, the bralette tightens, and he watches with so intense a darkness you can hardly stand to keep from throwing yourself at him. The ache between your thighs is now so unbearable you wonder how you’ll even make it home at all; he leans to your ear, soft blonde tickling your feverish skin. Lips against your lobe, he speaks softly:

“Did you think you could get one over on me, kitten?”

And he drops back, all contact lost. The sting of neglect is so brutally sharp, you’re too stunned to consider what his knowledge of your trivial gulling even means. In the light of day, it might suggest that he’s well aware of the effect he has on your libido and state of mind, that he acknowledges what sexual tension lives between you; what just transpired certainly attests to that.

“Meet you outside,” he states coolly, surreptitiously readjusting his groin before he throws back the curtain and steps out.

It takes a moment for the bleak reality of it to settle: your best friend has just left you so high and dry, you’ve never nursed such concentrated arousal, such thick and heavy wanting. If he had asked, you’d have given yourself to him. You’d have let him have his way in any and all manners.

Was the point of that exercise not to regain a sliver of power? How had it backfired so badly? How had he so easily turned it on its head? How much longer will you dance around admitting that you crave him?

Dressing yourself in a daze, you suppose falling back on old faithful is about all that’s left to do.

You’ll never let you down, after all.

***

Saying a frosty goodbye to Hyunjin was far from pleasant, yet utterly necessary.

You hadn’t even required excuses by which to take your leave of him; he didn’t question it. It had crossed your mind that he might be aware of how severely he’d overstepped this time, and his reluctance to press you on the matter of your departure was a direct result of that. At some point then, could you expect an apology? Would you even want it, considering the precedent you set for the tense back and forth?

Too highly strung to give reasonable thought to any of that in this moment, once back in your apartment, the plan extends to nothing much more complicated than aided masturbation; you’re going to fuck yourself until you can no longer feel your legs, and that should bring you back to a semblance of coherent self.

Spread legged on your bed, you’re almost halfway there. The silicone of the vibrator is inexplicably smooth inside you, the drag so delicious (even if it is lacking in ways only the real thing can manage). A self-taught expert in edging to the closest degree of release, the steady hum of the toy takes you to the precipice: you drag yourself back from it by total removal, accustomed to traversing the peaks and valleys of your pleasure threshold. Some might say it’s a lonely affair, and in the most obvious ways, it is, but when needs come knocking and all one has is their own enthusiasm, what else can one do but fantasise about their best friend and play back how it felt to be touched by him?

Fully absorbed in your own tryst, you don’t hear the gentle knock on the door. Neither do you hear its creak when it opens, nor the steps that you would otherwise recognise well.

Your name is called softly; opening your eyes to the visage of your best friend in your room, the response is one of panic. Senses returned, you startle to a shriek that sees you scooting up the bed.

“What the fuck!?”

He lifts his hand, a set of keys dangling from them. Right; you did give him those.

“What are you doing here?” you breathe, registering beyond the shock that he’s wearing the same jeans and shirt you saw him in earlier. Did he even go home?

“Thought I’d check in on you,” he says, that same tone of gravel laced deeply. “Seemed a little off today.”

“Get out.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t do that.”

“Seriously, you need to leave, I’m—”

“What?” he cocks his head. “Fucking yourself?”

As if requiring the blunt observation to even remember you’re holding your vibrator, it falls limply from your hand amidst the choke of mortification. Hyunjin perches on the end of the bed, thoroughly unfazed by your semi-nakedness.

“This is why you ditched me?” he asks coolly.

You swallow, unsure how to answer. Telling the truth of it would give so much more away than he knows.

“Because of what happened in the dressing room?” he presses. “The little game you tried to play with me?”

“It wasn’t a game.”

“What was it, then?”

“I... I don’t know.”

He skims a hand through his loose blonde locks, a huff of breath through his nose. If nothing else, he seems at least to be amused as he sighs, “Do you think you’ll ever be honest with me?”

Your heart pounds unforgivingly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he stares you down, “the way you try to hide everything. Do you really think I can’t tell when you’re keening for a fuck?”

You can only watch in disbelief when he repositions on his knees, a few crawled paces bringing him to your feet where he stops, hand poised expectantly over your ankle. He searches your face for the nod; when you give it by the subtlest of motions, he wraps a grip around it, stretching your leg out to drag you to the mattress proper. He crawls over you, his frame so deliciously all encompassing.

“Always wondered what you’d look like underneath me,” he muses, knuckles skimming your cheek. “Fantasies didn’t come close.”

“Hyunjin...”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he breathes. “Why did it have to come to this?”

You puff a resigned laugh, thoroughly humourless. “How was I supposed to do that? You’re my best friend, Hyunjin. Best friends aren’t supposed to want to fuck each other.”

He lowers himself, the space between your mouths so infinitesimal you feel the way his lips shape the words when he whispers, “Says who?”

And when he kisses you, it’s a spiral of immediate wanting. The brushing of lips melts to tongues slick and hot, such pent-up yearning as you’ve nursed for so long manifesting in the way you open yourself to him so readily. Futile to attempt concealing the scalding degree of your desire, your thighs open and legs hooking around him draw him close. He holds his weight on his hands, pushing back and away with tender pillowy lips that curve into a smile of wicked intent. He disappears down your body, repositioning between your legs still opened for him; one hand pressing your navel, the other guiding left thigh up and apart. On eye level with that which he craves most, his curse is one of unadulterated appreciation:

“Fuck, kitten. So pretty.”

The climb to orgasm already underway and with Hyunjin’s knowledge of such intimacy, he’s slow to get you there. Gentle fingertips part you and explore, the soft flick of his tongue an unhurried glide that edges you carefully. The relief comes in tangible waves that, though so desperately wanted, threaten to crush you: so it is that the cap of a shaken soda bottle will explode so violently.

“God... taste so good.”

“Hyunjin—”

He hushes you softly. “I know.”

And the coil of pleasure tightens to straining as he suckles with lips formed snug around your throbbing clit, as he eases middle finger inside you to stimulate the wet tenderness therein. Your reaching for the pillow to clutch at and whine into is intended to spare you from further mortification; your best friend is moments away from making you come brutally, and he knows it.

“Oh my god— ngh—” your muffled cry is encouraged to fill the room when Hyunjin reaches up, snatches the pillow to toss it aside.

“You’ve made me wait this long and you’re going to try and hide from me?” he scoffs, a particularly deep plunge of his slim digit drawing a heavy moan from you. “That’s better. Just like that.”

His mouth returns to where you need it most, and just as your body is wracked with the first tell of orgasm: everything stops.

Confused, defeated as the promise of release tragically diminishes, you look down at the man still poised between your thighs.

“What are you—”

He kisses your inner thigh, eyes hooded. “Didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?”

And perhaps you should have foreseen this; his nature has always been to tease, to lead, to draw out. Why should he be any different where matters of sex are concerned? Even more so when the events leading to this very moment were themselves steeped in such illicit chasing?

While you consider yourself a self-taught expert in the craft of delayed gratification, Hyunjin appears to have been taught by certified masters. Some period of time later and the man has thrashed all sense of coherence from you with the repetition of bringing you to near-orgasm, only to pull it out from under you with a promise of more. With this one, you don’t mind admitting to balancing on the verge of tears. Your body aches, your muscles a mess of involuntary trembling that Hyunjin soothes by reassuring touch.

“Hyunjin, please—”

He quirks a brow at you, detaching mouth from your centre. “But you’re doing so well, kitten.”

“I— I can’t... can’t take anymore—”

A lazy finger stretches you and roams your sensitivity, the glide comically easy with your sopping arousal.

“You should give yourself more credit,” he rasps, “four ruined orgasms and you’re still keeping it together.”

“I’m not,” you plead, “I’m really not. Just let me come, please.”

“Love the way you sound when you’re this desperate, kitten.”

“I need it so badly, fuck—”

 Instinct brings your hand down to offer yourself some relief; it’s promptly swatted away, Hyunjin’s disapproving tut follows.

“You want to come?” he taunts. “Fine.”

And the assault on your aching core comes with such swiftness you can hardly withstand it. Caressed by tongue and smothered by puffy lips, the euphoria that starts as the slow unravelling of your very fibre is no longer denied; it gains momentum and drops you from a breathless height, vision starring as you liquefy amongst the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had.

Quivering form held in place by hand still over your navel, Hyunjin drives you through it, the slow, steady pump of his fingers indicative of his unwavering attention. Even as the comedown calls to you, he perseveres.

“Hyunjin—”

What should be post-coital content is instead steamrolled; Hyunjin is relentless, his ministrations unforgiving. Unable to gulp down a breath or keep your limbs from trembling, you clutch the sheets beneath you.

“It’s too much, it’s too— ngh, fuck—”

A searing second orgasm plucks your soul from body; Hyunjin grins against you, even the hot of his breath proving to be too much in all your overstimulated state. Thrown from pillar to post, the void you’ve so often visited alone in your stupors of lust settles over you like a heavy blanket; you’re present, but unthinking beyond the man that, in this moment, owns you.

“Good fucking girl,” he praises, mercy given when he rises from between your legs to kneel over you. Unsure when he even removed his own clothes, you’re thoroughly taken with the sight of him naked; his cock hangs thick and heavy, and it seems to you an unreal prospect that you should be expected to take it.

Not that you won’t give it your utmost, soldier that you are.

“Turn over for me,” he instructs.

Breathless, boneless, you make some form of attempt to do. On your weakness, Hyunjin guides you to your front, a whispered reassurance offered, “You’re doing so well, kitten.” Hands and knees imprinting the mattress, a drag of large palm down your spine arches you just so. Presented to him, for him, the initial breach is grounding in ways you hadn’t anticipated: Hyunjin is ludicrously well endowed, and every inch he sinks, even despite your blatant arousal, is met with bated breath. He draws tight when he bottoms out; your knees buckle, he keeps you suspended by curve of hips.

“So soft,” he groans, “fuck, you fit right around me—”

And the pace he sets is one of acclimatisation, steady and firm as he finds familiarity in the way you take him, as you melt into the way he drags in and out. Mattress creaks accompany the soft smacks of skin, your broken sighs an encouragement.

“Harder—”

Hyunjin hisses, your presented cheeks are squeezes appreciatively amidst a snap of hips.

“Don’t stop,” you press, “you feel so good—”

He groans low. “Fuck, yeah. Keep talking.”

“You’re so hard, so fucking big—”

He preens, reaching over you to slide a gentle grip around your throat. He pulls you up and back against him, his snapping forcing each staggered breath from your lungs.

“Do you like getting split open, kitten?” he pants in your ear. “Like it when I fuck you raw?”

“Mhm, feels so nice, please—”

He releases you for you to fall to the mattress, and where your knees buckle again, this time there is no assistance. He follows atop you, the pressure of his palm over your shoulder blade keeping you pinned. Fucked into the bed with such fluid strength you’re rendered unable to speak—much less think—the new angle allows for a deeper penetration, a third strong orgasm when the drag of his length gets you there. Somewhat mercifully, yours brings his, the tremble to his form and blush of his complexion indicative of his surrender.

“Oh fuck, fuck— I’m going to come so hard—”

“Inside me,” you plead as his strength fails and he covers you with his body, his chest to your back and your shoulder subjected to open-mouthed attention. Buried into your skin, he fists the sheets beside your head, throaty groans of his unfiltered desire accompanying his sharp, shallow thrusts that fill you up.

The moment of stillness is occupied by your laboured breathing, the respective pounding of your hearts. Silence holds as he rolls from you, and while you would normally seek to engage in much-needed clean-up, you can’t even stand to move. It’s a surprise, then, when Hyunjin rises and disappears to your en-suite, returning with a towel. Too exhausted to entertain embarrassment when he firstly dries the sweat from your skin, then parts your thighs to dab up the worst of what leaks from you. He does it wordlessly and with a tenderness you thought him incapable of; when he’s done, he returns to your side.

Unsure what to say now that the urgency of lust has passed, you’re glad when Hyunjin speaks first.

“That was pretty unreal.”

You gently laugh your agreement. “Yeah.”

He turns to you, seeking your gaze. When you give it, the sincerity there is yet another unexpected turn of his character.

“I’m glad,” he says softly.

“You are?”

He nods. “At the risk of sounding like an arrogant prick, I always kind of thought this would happen. You could cut the tension between us with a blunt spoon.”

“You say that, but I thought it was just me that felt it.”

He quirks a brow, amused.

“You give absolutely nothing away,” you explain. “Until today, I was resigned to forever pining after my best friend.”

“Well,” he sighs, pulling you into his chest, “now you can forever pine after your boyfriend.”

Warm in his embrace, against his skin, there’s something almost elegant in the way he so nonchalantly presents and decides on the status now shared between you. From bestie to boyfriend, in so simple a sentence as that. And why dispute it, when the idea brings you to such delight? To be able to call him more than just a friend is a fantasy hitherto ignored. Now it’s your reality.

“Need to go back to the mall tomorrow,” he mumbles among the calling of sleep. You look up at him, confused.

He grins lazily, the very picture of mischief. A soft kiss pressed to your forehead, his nose brushing down your temple when he whispers in your ear:

“You and I have unfinished business with that lingerie, kitten.”

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙨𝙠 ♡

[seungminstaehyun]

HANDS ON YOU — lee heeseung

IN WHICH; ILAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIÉRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!

PAIRING: idol!heeseung x idol!fembodied!reader

GENRE: smau, strangers to lovers, celebrity x celebrity, forbidden love, fluff, don’t let the first part of the smau fool you i swear it’s full on angst towards the end, slowest of the slow burns…

WARNINGS: contains profanities, horrible humour, kys/kms jokes, sexual innuendos, spelling errors, incorrect timestamps, probably some cringe-worthy moments, cyberbullying, death threats, mentions of overworking, insomnia, eating disorders, not proofread etc.

STATUS: ongoing! (04/06 - ??)

POSTING SCHEDULE: whenever i can 🤡

TAGLIST: open! comment or send ask to be added!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: please read! literally my first attempt at a smau so please don't flame me 💀 i must warn y’all that the timestamps are really all over the place, so DO NOT pay attention to them until stated. chapters with ‘(hw)’ next to them indicates that they are half-written, in case y’all accidentally skip over it! last but not least, if you do end up enjoying it please like, comment (absolutely love reading comments!), and reblog! without further ado, enjoy!!

prologue - introducing LUMIÈRE part 1 | part 2

profile. lumiére girlies❤️✨ | enhighondeeznuts | kpoppies 🇨🇳line

chapter 1 - number 1 hater

chapter 2 - infant

chapter 3 - #prayersformarklee ✊🤞

chapter 4 - dog-eater…? (hw)

chapter 5 - records

chapter 6 - still employed!

chapter 7 - bad publicity is still publicity

chapter 8 - to hee or not to hee

chapter 9 - the heist

chapter 10 - trigger warning

chapter 11 - soompitydimpity

chapter 12 - chronic insomnia

chapter 13 - to hee after all

chapter 14 - wild pokémon heeseungie

chapter 15 - artists

chapter 16 - that should be me

chapter 17 - bills

chapter 18 - the elephant in the room (hw)

chapter 19 - if you let me

chapter 20 - trouble? travel! (hw)

chapter 21 - caught in a lie

chapter 22 - always on your side

chapter 23 - princess syndrome

chapter 24 - you (hw)

chapter 25 - golden thread

chapter 26 - way back home (hw)

chapter 27 - uh oh…

chapter 28 - fight or flight

chapter 29 - close friends

chapter 30 - paradoxx invasion

chapter 31 - ramen

chapter 32 - 080923 (hw)

chapter 33 - driver

chapter 34 - demure and honest

chapter 35 - p-platonic?!?

chapter 36 - friends don’t look at friends that way

chapter 37 - bungeoppang

chapter 38 - back to the way things were..?

chapter 39 - wheel of fortune

chapter 40 - i miss holding your hand (hw)

chapter 41 - sooha (real)

chapter 42 - rizzseung

chapter 43 - project luminescence

chapter 44 - i will go to you like the first snow (hw)

chapter 45 - she said rawr

chapter 46 - it’s you and me in this world

chapter 47 - yes, it’s true

chapter 48 - my life without you is a misery

chapter 49 (finale) - number 1 fan

epilogue

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

[seungminstaehyun]

excited for this one! can i be added to the taglist? thank you! 🫶🏻

XOXO – L.HS [이희승]

☆Synopsis☆: Y/N's interest in making overly-specific playlists and sharing them online is the only thing that Lee Heeseung, her ex-boyfriend and now labelmate, can hold onto after their relationship dispersed. "XOXO, Y/N" always appeared at the end of each playlist's description, and Heeseung longed for one more of those XOXOs to be dedicated to him. Instead of a playlist, Heeseung receives the news that he'd be appearing in a short web series with his ex-girlfriend to promote both group's upcoming comebacks.

☆Genres☆: slice of life, angst, comedy, idol romance, smau

☆Warnings☆: cursing, kms/kys, unresolved relationship issues

☆Pairings☆: idol!Heeseung x idol!fem!reader

☆Cast☆: Enhypen, NCT Dream, TXT, and you! (will be using (g)-idle to portray oc gg)

Taglist is open! Send an ask or reply to be added 🩵

🩵📼🩵

☆Profiles☆: Enhypen / NCT Dream / TXT / Reverie

Playlist 1: it's 3:53 a.m. and ur hungry so u make ramen

Playlist 2: u see sum1 u know but don't wanna say hi

More playlists in the making...

[seungminstaehyun]

MAKE IT UP TO YOU

Pairing: Afab! Reader x Seungmin

Theme: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Ageless Blogs & Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: Please do not repost or translate my work! Let me know if you wish to be on the tagged list.

You were in a bad headspace, you insecurity and depression hit you hard today after finding a bunch of hate accounts dedicated to you. Why? Because of who your boyfriend was. It wasn't easy, dating an idol. But you loved him more than anything in the world. He brought so much joy into your life an you wouldn't trade it for anything. So when he came home you rushed to him and hugged him tight, But he immediately pushed you away, making your heart sink.

"Not right now Y/n. I'm not in the mood." He muttered as he walked passed you and went into the bedroom. You followed him and looked up at him and nervously.

"Baby a-are you okay?" You asked quietly. He ignored you as he laid down on the bed. You sat down on beside him and took his hand gently. "Baby." You breathed out. He yanked his hand away from you and glared at you.

"What point of I'm not in the mood do you not understand Y/n." He spat. "I had a really shitty day and I cannot handle you being annoying and clingy right now!" You flinched at his raised voice and looked at him with wide eyes.

Your heart shattered at his words and all the tweets and videos you had seen today, talking about how stupid and pathetic and unworthy you were flooded your brain. Your lip trembled and you got up from the bed. You didn't look at him, you didn't see the immediate regret on his face after saying those words.

"S-Sorry." You choked out as you rushed out of the room. You rushed out of the room and ignored his calls for you. You went into the guest room as you choked on a sob and slammed the door closed and locked it.

"Y/n baby please open up!" He called as he tried to open to door. "Baby please I am so sorry, I didn't mean it!" You didn't respond, you just curled up on the bed as the tears poured down your cheeks. He continued knocking and shaking the handle for a while before punching the door. "Dammit!" He cried out. He slid down the door and buried his face in his hands. "Baby please." He choked out. "Let me in, I love you. I love you so much. I d-didn't mean any of it."

"Then why would you say something like that to me?" You choked out. "You already know how sensitive I am when I comes to you and after everything I saw today.. the things people were saying about me. You just confirmed that maybe they're right."

"I was stressed and tired. This comeback has a lot of pressure on all of us and I took it out on you. I'm so sorry baby." He leaned his head against the door. "What do you mean? What who is saying?"

"The fans." You choked out. "They constantly talk about how I'm not good enough for you. How I'm not pretty enough, that I'm always clinging to you and desperate for attention. That you're tired of me." You said quietly.

"Baby." He breathed out. "Open the door, please." You could hear the nervousness in his voice. You slowly got out of the bed and walked over to the door. You let out a shaky breath and unlocked it. Within seconds the door flew open and you were encased in Seungmin's arms. You immediately melted into him and cried into his shirt. "If anyone isn't good enough it's me." He whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"After reading all of that all I wanted was to be in your arms and you just pushed me away." You choked out as you moved away from him. "Maybe it's best we just end this. I clearly don't make you happy." You said quietly. You didn't dare look him in the eyes as you walked passed him. You walked into the bedroom and got out a duffle bag. You reached to start putting your clothes in the back but he grabbed your wrist to stop you. You looked over to see him looking at you with wide panicked eyes.

"Baby... d-don't. Don't do this. Don't leave me." He choked out as tears flew down his cheeks he pulled you close and pressed his lips to yours in a desperate kiss. "I love you, I love you more than anything." He whispered into your lips. "Please don't you dare leave me." He held you tight and continued to kiss you, pouring everything he had into the kiss. It made you dizzy and your knees week. He picked you up and carried you to the bed before laying you down on it. He pulled away and looked into your eyes. "Say you'll stay." He whispered. "Please." You looked up into his eyes and nodded. He ran his hands up your thighs and looked into your eyes softly.

"Let me make it up to you." He whispered. "Let me show you how much I love you." He pushed up his shirt that you were wearing, knowing full well you weren't wearing anything underneath and leaned down he kissed all over your chest before taking your nipple into his mouth. You whimpered loudly and tangled your fingers in his hair. His hand slipped between your legs and began to rub your clit slowly. You whimpered and moaned loudly as you rocked into his hand. He kissed up your neck and nipped at it. He sucked at your skin and licked at the mark he left.

"I love you so much." He whispered as he slipped his finger into you. You whined loudly and pulled him closer.

"I-I love you." You whimpered loudly. "Please don't stop." He smirked at you before kissing down your chest. You gasped as you felt his mouth pressing kisses against your clit. He began sucking at your sensitive nub as he added a second finger into you. He thrusts his fingers into you wildly as he watches you scream out and squirm beneath him. He was determined to make you cum hard. He held you down to keep you still as you shook violently as he continued to assault your pussy with his fingers. Your eyes rolled back as you screamed out and arched off the bed as you felt yourself come undone.

"That's it my love." He cooed you came hard around his fingers. He pulled them out gently and licked his fingers clean. The sight only made you more aroused. He stripped himself of his clothes and laid flush against you as he kissed you slowly and passionately. He lined up his cock at your entrance and slowly slid into you, you both moaned at the feeling as he filled you completely. He nuzzled his face in your neck and pinned your hands above your head, his fingers linking with yours. "You feel so perfect love, you were made for me. Only me." He whimpered softly.

"Yours." You mewled softly. He rocked his hips slowly and gently into you, wanting to take his time and love you. But even so, every movement made your legs shake. He knew all the right spots to hit every time he rocked into you making you pant and whine loudly for him. He let go of one of your hands to grip your hip gently as he thrust into you, he was still going slow but the thrusts were rough. Your eyes rolled back and you clung to him tightly as you writhed in ecstasy.

He pressed his lips to yours in a deep passionate kiss as he held you close to him, your body's completely tangled in each other as he rocked roughly into you. The sounds of your heavy breaths and moans as you made love filled the room. His moans always made you shake. It was absolute heaven to your ears. You nipped at his lips and whined loudly as you felt yourself getting close to your peak.

"Yes, baby please cum around my cock." He whimpered as he started to become rough and thrust wildly into you. You cried loudly as you arched into him and he groaned loudly. You clenched around him as his cock throbbed and soon you both hit your high. You cried out his name and went limp beneath him as you felt him fill you with his hot seed. He laid on top of you, both of your bodies trembled as he pressed kisses all of your face. He wasn't pulling out of you, no, he wanted to make sure you kept all his cum inside of you.

He ran his fingers through your hair and looked at you gently. "You are my everything." He whispered softly. "I'll never want any one but you. So please, stay with me. Stay forever with me." He begged softly. You caressed his cheek and kissed him softly.

"I will." You breathed out.

[seungminstaehyun]

pairing: han jisung x reader

genre: fluff, not really angst but yeah, jealous hanji, also it's implicit that y/n's an idol lol

request: "omggg requests are open you said? ok can i request ❝  i promise there’s no one else.  you have my heart completely.  ❞ and ❝  tell me you’re mine.  ❞ with jisung if is it possible please? thank u 😙❣"

a/n: i had some free time in my hands and felt like writing something but didn't know what. so i went through my ask box and had a few requests from last year (my apologies omg) and this one struck my inspiration. i hope you guys enjoy!! i would love to read your thoughts on this<3

[seungminstaehyun]

MARRIAGE MATERIAL, kim seungmin

⎯⎯ pairs ‣‣‣ kim seungmin x fem!reader ⎯⎯ rating ‣‣‣ 18+ ⎯⎯ genre ‣‣‣ smut ‣ husband!seungmin ‣ fluff ‣ dom!seungmin ‣ slight brat!reader ⎯⎯ warnings ‣‣‣ inappropriate language ‣ vaginal sex ‣ slightly rough sex ‣ spanking ‣ slight degrading ‣ a very cute dynamic of bickering imo ‣ teasing ‣ jealousy ‣ possessiveness ‣ overall wedding day shenanigans ‣ creampie ⎯⎯ word count ‣‣‣ 1.8k words ⎯⎯ notes ‣‣‣ @starlostseungmin and i were talking about the severe lack of husband!seungmin on this site, and somehow this got discussed haha so everyone blame thank her for this,,, this was originally going to be a drabble so i didn't do proper capitals so please ignore that uwu <3

seungmin getting jealous was not a common occurrence, but fuck you loved each time it happened. how his jaw would clench, how his eyes would never leave you - all of it. this time was different, however, because this time you were dancing with hyunjin while you waited for your husband of two hours to come back to you.

he had walked over to you with that tense jaw, his suit jacket abandoned and the sleeves of his top pulled up to the elbow. he was forcing a smile, tense and somewhat terrifying, as he walked to you both, his hands going to your waist and pulled you to him.

“my beautiful wife,” he harshly whispered in your ear, moving you both to the bathroom and locking the door behind him. “so perfect, always wanting to help people. finally mine,” seungmin dipped his face to your neck, biting the skin and kissing it, his fingers tightening on your waist. “seeing you walk down that aisle… fuck, i lost my mind. han, the bastard, been teasing me about it all day.”

you moaned, head falling back and your arms going around his neck. you pulled his face closer to your skin, biting on your bottom lip to try and stop the whimpers that wanted to escape you. his right hand wandered your body, pulling up the princess skirt of your dress and settling on the skin of your ass, thumb playing with the waistband of your lace underwear.

“and then i just go for a second, and you’re out dancing with someone else.” he groped your ass, kneading the fat in his hand while pushing you against the sink of the bathroom. you arched your back to accommodate it, as well as further press your breasts into seungmin, but you weren’t completely shameless enough to admit that. “made me so upset to see my lovely wife already forgetting me so fast.”

“could never forget you, minnie,” you groaned as his face kissed from your neck to your chest, smartly not leaving any hickeys though you both loved seeing them. “never want to and never will.”

his hand left your ass for a split second, before whacking back down in a pleasurable spank. your head fell back and you moaned at the action, your arms falling to your sides as seungmin lifted his face from your body. your clenched your hands on the edges of the sink counter, bottom lip trembling as you watched him with big puppy eyes.

“and yet you did.” you both knew that you didn’t forget him, how could you really, but that was what jealousy did to seungmin. it put some blinders on him and he just wanted to make you yours, you basked in it. in his attention. in him.

plus, seungmin did know how much you loved when he got possessive of you. he often teased you about it, playing up on your love of it when you’d go out together. you were sure that even now he was playing up the jealousy he felt.

loveable asshole. he was just so perfect.

seungmin tutted his tongue, pushing his crotch against yours and lifting you to the counter. your ass rested on the sink counter, his hand squeezing it once more before sliding back to your lace panties. he tugged them, pulling them off your cunt and down your legs, kneeling as he did so.

you whimpered as you looked down at him, helping pull the excessively puffy dress up so he could look at you. he loved looking at your cunt and you were happy to oblige, it always fuelled your ego.

he slid the panties off you entirely, putting them away in one of his pants pockets with an evil smirk on his gorgeous face. “fucking desperate aren’t you?”

“desperate?” you scoffed, defiance flowing through your mind and your own evil smirk growing. it matched his - your husband, the thought made you giggle inwardly in happiness. you may be a defiant person when it came to sex, but you would never not die of happiness when it came to remembering you were married to kim seungmin! “you’re the one who got jealous over me dancing with someone.”

his nostrils flared and his smirk dropped, making yours grow bigger. “his hands were on your hips,” seungmin stood up and placed his hands onto your hips, you were sure they were exactly where hyunjin’s had been - not that you had noticed, being far too busy gushing over how happy you were. “hips only i get to touch now. only i get to love, bite, kiss…”

“so possessive of me,” you teased him, legs automatically going to wrap around his hips and bring him closer. his clothed erection hit your bare cunt and your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. “do i get to be possessive of you in return?”

he chuckled and unzipped his pants, erection landing against your cunt and leaking precum. “you don’t need to be. all of me has been yours since the moment we met.” seungmin aligned his cock on your pussy, sliding himself against you instead of inside you like you needed. “but, other people don’t know that you’re mine. even with a ring on your finger, they still fucking try.”

you moaned, hips bucking in need for him. “you must see the hypocrisy here, minnie.” not that you have a shit about it, you just wanted to tease him. but, fuck, he was already making you needy just because he hadn’t started to fuck you yet. “i’m sure you’d still be possessive of me if no one tried anything.”

he hummed, slowly sliding his cock up and down against the slit of your cunt. one hand went to your waist and the other your thigh, moving your body in time with his. “i would.” you whined as his pace went even slower, and you were sure he had a bastard smirk on his face at your neediness.

finally, he stopped the evilly slow pace and aligned his cock with your entrance, pushing in deep. you moaned loudly, one of the hands holding the counter going to seungmin’s shoulder. you clawed at him, jaw slack with a broken whine, as his claw went deeper in you. and deeper. and deeper.

until he was bottomed out inside you.

your head fell back, hitting the mirror softly, while you rolled your hips. seungmin wasn’t in a much better position, you could feel his fingers digging into your skin, desperately clawing on for the control he loved having. “minnie, please!” your voice was high-pitched and whiny, something you knew he loved to hear. your husband loved knowing how affected you got by him. “need you to move!”

he slowly pulled out, seungmin always took such good care of you - he hated accidentally hurting you - and left only the tip of his cock inside you. you bit down on your bottom lip, trembling in waiting for him to push back in. for him to squeeze your hips in need. for him to move your body as he wished. for him to fuck you like you both loved.

you dug your nails into his shoulder, the hand on the counter doing the same for stability. “fuck, please!” he pulled you by your waist (and thigh, which he was still groping) against him, while thrusting his hips toward you. the action filled you, his cock sliding into you once more, and you let out a broken moan.

your fingers tightened on the counter as seungmin moved your body to his liking, his hips finding a rough pace that made your body tremble in delight. he felt so good, addictive as always, and somehow even better now that he was finally your husband.

you rested your head against the mirror, jaw slack from the constant stream of moans and whines, and admired him as best you could. his face was blissful, though focused on watching how your cunt took him. a bead of sweat slid down his cheek, a much more attractive sight then it should be. you lean forward and kissed it away, whimpering in his ear while he held the fast pace in his thrusts.

“so fucking perfect,” he grunted in your ear, your forehead resting on his shoulder while he moved your body and fucked you full. “all mine. those idiots don’t get to see you like this, my eyes only.”

you kissed his neck, right below his ear, and you agreed with a moan. “yours.”

you were unsure if it was the admittance from you yourself, or if seungmin was just growing needy, but his pace doubled in speed. your breasts bounced in the corset top of your dress, fuck you wanted to pull it off so seungmin could kiss and bite them. but not yet, you still had to return to your guests.

curses slipped from your mouth in blissful pleasure, body bouncing from the speed he set. “such a dirty mouth,” he muttered aloud, hips thrusting harshly into yours. you tightened your legs around him, gasping in delight when the hand once occupying your thigh moved to your ass, squeezing. “and all mine.”

“all yours!” seungmin’s face, once again, found your cleavage - his beautiful lips kissing and licking the exposed skin. a choir of curses and moans fell from you, cunt clenching around him in want. “oh fuck, i need to -”

he squeezed your ass again before moving you so that half of your ass was off the counter, your body making an odd angle. seungmin pushed you down against hand, hand going to your thigh the help keep your body tight against his.

you clenched again with a whine, the new angle making him feel even deeper inside you. you clawed at his shoulder again, head falling back as your high came closer and closer to a reality.

then, your body stilled and the knot released. you came on his cock, moaning uncontrollably as you did so. seungmin continued to fuck you as you came, his hips slowing only slightly as his own high approached.

you whimpered in post-orgasmic bliss, pulling him closer by your legs. his finger were tight on you, a sign of him trying his absolute best to not let go. but, you didn’t want that. you clenched around him again, rolling your hips for him and making him moan and his eyes roll back.

and then, he came. his hot cum spurting inside you and making you moan loudly. your nails clawed at his shoulder while your back arched, legs keeping him right against you. seungmin panted softly, pressing his forehead against your own and cupping your cheek in his hand.

“i fucking love you,” he whispered, cock still snug inside you despite his orgasm finishing. “my beautiful wife.”

you smiled, moving your hands so they linked around his neck. “my addictive husband.”

if you're able to support me and my writing, you can buy me a coffee here ♡

© COMET-FALLS 2022

[seungminstaehyun]

—daisies.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, college au, dance major hyunjin, art major reader

word count: 7.8k

summary: sometimes things do not go to plan, hyunjin realised. not even when he had so carefully prepared a date to ask you to be his girlfriend for once and for all.

warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of condoms lol, MINORS DNI!!!!

a/n: you know what, i've decided to embrace the word count and i'm not even apologising this time bc we all saw it coming :') also!! i couldn't come up with any proper title for this so i just went with this basic one (if you get it, you get it). i hope you guys enjoyyy, please let me know your thoughts on this, your comments and reblogs make me the happiest<3

You enjoyed your 10 A.M. class on Fridays, you really did.

You enjoyed listening to your professor and taking notes of everything he explained. You enjoyed learning a little bit more about art with each class, and you certainly enjoyed getting to put it all to practice.

Today, however, you could not seem to be able to pay attention — neither to your professor, nor to the hardly touched canvas in front of you.

And how could you? The man you were in love with had just told you last night to pack an overnight bag and wait for him after class.

Not only that, but the conversation that had preceded his sudden outburst had left you restless, too — in the best of ways, of course. You could only anticipate what was to come during the little date he had planned. An entire day of only you and him, in whatever place it was he was taking you to.

An entire night, too, of only you and him. That you were also looking forward to.

A whole day and a whole night… He was definitely dropping the question at some point, right? He wouldn't be going through all this trouble not to ask you to be his girlfriend by the end of the day, would he?

Almost like he was reading your thoughts, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You didn't need to take it out to know it was Hyunjin letting you know he had arrived at your building and was already waiting for you, but you did anyway — smiling wholeheartedly at his addition of the pet name 'baby' at the end of his text.

The whole ten minutes left of the class were hell after that.

In between small strokes of colour on your canvas and looking at the clock every twenty seconds, you managed to make it through. And as soon as your professor said the class was over, you picked up your bag and flew outside of the studio.

Hyunjin must've noticed the class was done as well, for he was waiting right in front of the door, wearing a smile that only grew wider the moment his eyes met yours.

"Hey, cutie…" he greeted you softly, reaching an arm out for you to hold.

"Hey…" you smiled shyly, letting him pull you to him and press a brief kiss to your lips. "You've been calling me that a lot lately".

"Well, you did say calling you that would take me places" he smirked, getting a roll of eyes from you.

"You don't even know what places I was talking about" you bit back.

He chuckled, leaning in to brush his mouth against yours. "Hm… I think I'll take the risk".

Laughing under your breath as his lips pressed on yours once more, you rested your hands on his chest. "If anything, you're the one who should be taking me places now".

That got a throaty laugh from him. "I am," he confirmed, sliding your bag down your shoulder and hanging it on his instead. "Shall we go?"

Biting your lip to try and conceive the smile that was threatening to show at both the sight of his hand waiting to be held by yours and how cute he looked wearing the pastel pink bag you had brought that day, you nodded, no longer fighting your smile when you held his hand and his smiley lips pressed softly to your cheek.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked as you made your way out of the building.

"First, we're getting lunch".

"You know what I mean," you squinted your eyes. "What are we doing after lunch?"

"You'll see" he smirked.

"Babyyy~" you pouted, earning an amused roll of eyes from him.

"Not gonna work".

"Please?"

"It's a surprise".

"Can we go now then? We can get something to eat later".

"Aish, so impatient" he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closing in feigned annoyance.

"Jinnie…" you pouted once more.

"We can't skip lunch" he denied. "I'm not having you starve during the train ride".

"Train ride?!" your eyes sparkled and a proud smile curved up his lips. "Where are we travelling to?"

Throwing an arm over your shoulders, he pulled you to him and pressed a kiss to your temple — one that any other time would've been sweet, yet this time around seemed more taunting than anything. "That's as much as I'm saying".

-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

You were not even halfway into the day and it already felt like a dream.

Sitting by the window of a train, head resting on Hyunjin's shoulder while you looked at the passing scenery outside and listened to one of his playlists as you shared his earphones… everything about it truly felt like one of the many daydreams you used to have with him back when everything was one-sided.

And it could only feel even more surreal when you recognised the landscape outside; one you had not visited in over a year now — the last time being for the birthday party Innie's parents had prepared for him.

Busan.

For some reason still unknown to you, Hyunjin had taken you to Busan.

You found yourself having to ask him if he was serious when you first heard the destination at the train station, not believing your ears when you heard the name of the city through the speakers. And a part of you did still not believe he was taking you there until you saw it with your own two eyes.

You enjoyed the ride from the station to the place Hyunjin had booked for the two of you to spend the night, which turned out to be a very nice modern building that was a few minutes away from the beach. You took a mental note to visit it later that day or at least before leaving the next one, as going to the beach with him had just become a fundamental point of your couples to-do list with him.

The hotel room was bigger than you expected, yet not enough to take that coziness you craved so much away. The open curtains and beige walls brought just the right amount of brightness into the room, and it went well with the white sheets of the king bed in the middle.

The king bed.

You couldn't help the heat in your cheeks at the sight of it. You had been hoping there would be only one bed; you had actually supposed so at first, for you had slept together a few times by now. But actually being met with one bed only, regardless of it might being obvious, had sent a rush of heat through your body.

Watching as Hyunjin placed your bags on the small couch by the window, you decided to take off your shoes and lie down on the mattress for a bit. For some reason, the train ride had left you exhausted.

Hyunjin's lips curved up into an adoring smile the moment he turned around and saw you laying down on your back — arms stretching out above your head as if you had just woken up from a deep slumber, and managing to drag your black top up enough for half your abdomen to be uncovered.

"Don't tell me you're tired now" he teased, crawling right next to you.

"And what if I am?" you dared.

He smiled, resting his hand on your bare waist and drawing small circles on your skin. Goosebumps were fast to show under his touch. "It's not even dark outside yet".

"So what, I'm tired and this bed's too comfy" you snuggled up closer to him, receiving a tender kiss to your forehead.

"It is very comfy, I'll give you that".

"Can't believe you booked a hotel room for us" you smiled incredulously.

Hyunjin smiled as well, shrugging lightly before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest. "I figured we could stay the night and that way enjoy the city all day today and some more tomorrow".

"I love that…"

"I was hoping you would…" he mumbled, resting his chin on your head. "Besides, getting to sleep with you is a nice plus to it".

Your cheeks heated up. "We've slept together back in Seoul, though".

"Yes, but not like this".

"Like what?"

He didn't need to say anything back. The single look he gave you when your eyes went up to meet his was enough to let you know what was so different this time. And you wanted it to be like that.

You had been taking it slow for a while now, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't miss his naked body against yours and the entire different level of intimacy that came with it.

Hyunjin missed it like crazy, too, and he couldn't help but show you with a kiss. After all, he had only been holding back all this time because you wanted to take things slow and he was willing to do that for you.

If it were up to him, though, you'd have spent endless nights tangled up in bed by now.

Your hands went to his nape in a second, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Your heavy breathing mixed with his hot one, pressing your mouth to his once more and feeling a shiver run down your spine when his hand moved from your waist to your ass.

That's all you needed to push him down on the mattress and crawl on his lap. The low moan that slipped past his lips was music to your ears, and his hands squeezing your ass before he pushed you down on his crotch was enough to get a muffled moan from you in return.

Your hands travelled down from his chest to his waistline, where you reached his pants.

"No, no… wait…" his breathy plea against your mouth stopped you from pulling the zip down, looking at him in confusion instead. "I didn't bring you here to have sex".

The look on your face must've been accusing as hell, for he couldn't hold back a laugh.

"I'm serious!" he said in between a giggle, hands unconsciously digging under your top and resting right above the curve of your waist.

"Your hands tell me otherwise" you teased.

Hyunjin bit his lip, contemplating for a moment before he stole a chaste kiss from your lips and removed his hands from under your top, bringing them up to your shoulders instead.

"I'm supposed to take you somewhere else today," he confessed. "Right now, actually. We're already running a bit late if we wanna see the whole thing".

You cocked an eyebrow, suddenly interested. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise" he smiled, giggling once again when you squinted your eyes daringly. "Last surprise of the day, I promise".

"But I wanna stay here…" you pouted.

Leaning in to press your lips to his in a lingering kiss, you felt him sigh against your mouth — already regretting having to take you somewhere else and considering just staying here in bed with you for the remaining of the trip.

"Don't do this to me…" he whined, hands travelling down again and fingertips pressing hard against the flesh of your hips as he lost the battle against himself and leaned in to steal another kiss from you. "If we're staying in bed all day we could've just stayed in Seoul".

You pouted. "But I want you".

"Couldn't you want me this bad back home?"

"I did want you this bad," you confessed, lips lightly brushing his. "I just have a lot of self-control".

Hyunjin chuckled, nuzzling the crook of your neck before pressing a soft kiss to it. "You're gonna have to keep that self-control up for a little longer then".

"Hyunjin…"

"Ugh, don't say my name like that when you're on top of me" he pleaded.

"That is your name, though" you laughed.

"Mhm… play innocent all you want, baby" his grip on your hips tightened playfully. "You're gonna love the place I'm taking you to much more".

"More than staying in bed with you for what's left of the day?"

A heavy whine escaped his mouth this time, one that was followed by a feigned cry as he threw his head back in exasperation — clearly having failed at trying to convince himself of it.

You laughed loudly at the very troubled sight of him, but it didn't last long, for he was fast to turn you around so now your back was pressed against the mattress and he was on top of you.

"Don't play with me, baby…" he whispered, and this time you couldn't tell whether it was a plea or more of a threat. "I promise you we'll have all night to ourselves".

"All night?" you pushed it.

He smiled, leaning in to kiss you gently. "All night".

"Okay then…" you sighed, gently running your hands down his biceps. "Since you promised".

"Trust me, there's nothing I'd want more than to stay here with you right now" he kissed you again. "But there's a reason I brought you all the way here, so…" he sat up, holding a hand out for you to hold. "Let's go?"

-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

It only hit you how perfectly Hyunjin had planned everything out when you finally arrived at your destination.

The hotel you were staying at was hardly ten minutes away by foot, and you had surely enjoyed the hand-in-hand walk over there. You could honestly enjoy anything as long as you were with him, and you were definitely having the time of your life looking around the city to realise the place Hyunjin had stopped in front of.

Bon Davinci Museum.

More particularly, the Van Gogh Village Exhibition. The same one you had missed last year back in Seoul and had no idea was now back for a while in a different city.

The look you gave Hyunjin at the realisation was one of pure adoration, and you wondered how expressive you actually were, given you could clearly see the effect your eyes had on him — bringing a bright pink to his cheeks and that cute dimple of his was not something you achieved on a daily basis.

He cleared his throat, trying to control his shy smile at that. "Let's go".

Too stunned to speak, you let him guide you to the line of people who already had their tickets. He had truly left no details behind, and your heart could only soar over how much effort he had put into this.

"I can't believe we're here," you squealed, quietly enough not to bring people's attention to you — that didn't stop Hyunjin's attention and heart eyes from focusing on your beaming face. "God, Innie's gonna be so jealous when he finds out".

Hyunjin chuckled. "Now I feel bad because he gave me his ticket for Nam June Paik's expo and I didn't invite him here".

"He couldn't go to his expo, the ticket would've gone to waste anyway" you squeezed his hand, walking forward as the line in front got shorter. "And let's be honest, he would've third wheeled so hard if he came here with us".

"I'm telling him you'd make him third wheel with us" he smirked.

"Do that and I'm making you third wheel when I'm with him".

"I would like to see you try" he gave you a cynical smile.

Mirroring his attitude, you stuck your tongue out to him before he loosely placed his arm around your shoulders. You lightly rested your head on his shoulder.

"I need to record the Almond Blossom room for him, that's what he wanted to see the most" you nodded to yourself, then looking up at Hyunjin with hopeful eyes. "You think they have the Vase with Daisies and Poppies?"

"I knew you would look for it first thing" he shook his head in amusement.

"Do they?" you perked up.

He shrugged, not even trying to hide his will to tease you. "I guess we'll find out".

"You so know the answer and don't wanna tell me".

"Aren't you the one who wanted to visit so badly in Seoul? Shouldn't you know that, baby?"

Your jaw fell in offense, and you wasted no time in pulling away from his hold. "I hate you".

Hyunjin chuckled, pulling you into his embrace once more and then pressing his lips to your temple. "I know you don't".

Rolling your eyes as you silently rejoiced in his touch, you didn't pry away from it — instead, you wrapped your arm around his waist right as you reached the girl who would scan your tickets.

From the moment you step a foot inside, it was everything you had hoped for.

You remembered how bad you and Innie wanted to go last year when it was in Seoul for a couple of weeks, but it just so conveniently happened to be during finals season, and so you both had to give up enjoying this anticipated art exhibition over your art courses, as ironic as it sounded.

Hyunjin had found out about it one evening when he was lying down on your bed while you worked on a paper — Van Gogh being brought up as you mindlessly chatted and then you casually mentioned your and Jeongin's tragic story.

It had been just that. A light conversation while your attention was mostly focused on your research and Hyunjin's eyes remained focused on his phone, as he had only come over to keep you company. You had mentioned it and moved on. Just that.

You didn't expect him to remember, and you most certainly weren't expecting him to go out of his way to take you to a completely different city so you could finally see the exposition you had missed a year ago.

If he only paid attention, he would see in your eyes just how much harder you had fallen for him right then.

He was too excited making sure you'd admire every masterpiece that was portrayed on the multi-screens, however — far from looking into the way you would stare at him and instead getting lost in the way your smile would take over your face and your eyes would sparkle with every piece you reached.

He was personally most excited about the Starry Night, but when you finally reached the room it was in and you were suddenly covered under the blue and yellow lights, he couldn't help but admire you instead.

Funnily enough, you were doing just the same with him. The difference being you couldn't contain yourself and ended up taking your phone out of your pocket and snapping a picture of him. A picture that turned into five more as you asked him to pose for you and he complied, and which then turned into some more when he took out his phone and had you as his personal model for a while — later pulling you to him and snatching a few selfies together that would make it to his favourites folder.

It made him almost wish you could stay in that moment forever, but there was one last piece you were the most excited about and he was taking you there.

Your face the moment you saw the one painting you had asked about earlier was all Hyunjin needed to know bringing you here was worth it.

"Jinnie, oh my God, they do have it!"

You heard his quite loud yet shy giggle as you rushed towards the huge projection of the Vase with Daisies and Poppies.

Being quite lost in the sight of it, you missed his presence coming up closer to you — jolting up for a moment there when his arms sneaked around your waist from behind, before your body relaxed under his familiar touch.

"I knew they had it" he admitted the obvious, just as his chin rested on your shoulder.

"I knew you knew whether they had it" you side eyed him.

He laughed under his breath, pressing his lips briefly to your cheek. "I just wanted to leave the best for the last" his thumb ran up and down your sides. "Although in my opinion the best was the Starry Night".

"That's because you're basic".

He gasped, tightening his hold on your waist as he leaned back and pulled you slightly away. "You did not just call me basic, daisy girl".

"No, don't bring daisies into this" you warned him.

"They're like the most basic flower out there".

Once again, you were the one to act offended. "You know, you just lost all the points you had gained by calling me 'cutie'".

"Come on now, that's not fair".

"It is plenty fair".

"What about all the points I won by taking you here?"

"Oh yeah, those are gone, too".

"All because I called daisies basic?"

"You deliberately attacked my fixation on them, so…"

He pouted once more, and you could not help but smile sweetly and trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

"You do get some points back for being cute, though".

"Oh, that definitely makes me feel better" he snorted.

You laughed under your breath, lightly pecking his mouth before your eyes locked with his. "Thank you…"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What for?"

"For this?" you pointed out the obvious, motioning around the room. "I know I already said that I can't believe you brought me to Busan and all that, but this… I mean, I wanted to see this so badly and I didn't even know it was in Busan right now? How did you…"

Hyunjin shrugged, naturally resting his hands on your waist. "I knew you couldn't go last year when it was in Seoul, and I… to be honest I didn't know it was in Busan either, I just started to look for places to take you out on a date and this popped up and it was just perfect".

"You could've just taken me to any art museum back in Seoul and I would've been just as happy, you know?"

"In between taking you somewhere we can go to any other day and taking you to an exposition that will only be here for a couple of weeks… and which you really wanted to see to begin with… I think I know which one would make you happier".

You laughed lightly, wholeheartedly, cupping his face in your hands and tenderly running your thumbs over the corners of his mouth as your eyes went up to meet his. "I love you".

You felt his breath get caught in his throat, and although he opened his mouth to say something in return —or at least try to, as you could see already his voice would betray him—, you didn't need to hear it nor see him struggle. So, you kissed him.

He kissed you back immediately, tenderly as ever — his warm hand cupping your cheek and deepening the kiss before you could pull away.

"You don't have to say it back" you smiled truthfully. "I've just been really struggling lately not to say it every five minutes and needed to let it out".

"Y/N… I, I'm…"

"It's okay, baby, really" you reassured him, reaching for his hand and eagerly tugging at it. "Now let's go! The beach is close, if we rush we can watch the sunset!"

-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

I love you. I love you. I love you.

That's what you had said, so effortlessly.

I love you. It's what he wanted to say right back the second those three words had abandoned your mouth, but he froze.

He froze.

Love had always come easy to you. You loved selflessly, effortlessly, shamelessly, fully, and expected to be loved the same. He, on the other hand, had always been an outcast to love and romance as a whole.

In his mind, he had told you he loved you plenty of times. When it came to finally, actually saying it outloud, however, his breath had got caught up in his throat and he could physically not let the words out of his mouth.

To say he was upset was an understatement.

You didn't seem to be upset or slightly hurt at his lack of response. Were you that used to his distance from love? Had you really been expecting him not to say he loved you back? Or were you just one hell of an actress?

Whatever the right answer was, it could only upset him more. God, he wanted nothing more than for you to know he loved you.

The sun had still another few minutes to go before settling, and so you had taken a little detour from your walk to the beach to buy the two of you some coffee — on you, as you did not let him pay for it no matter how hard he fought it. Your date, the one he had planned, was not over yet after all.

Hyunjin couldn't help but feel like he had failed at that, too. He had brought you all the way here with the intent of asking you to be his girlfriend, yet the words 'I love you' had been said and suddenly he was out of words and letting you drag him out without even protesting.

If it weren't for how happy you looked back then and how happy he was to see your bright smile adorning your lips as you enjoyed the entirety of the exposition, he would've felt like it all had been pointless.

But there you were, on the other hand, playfully swinging your interlaced hands and sipping on your iced coffee as you walked to the beach. As if nothing had happened ten minutes ago.

A contagious smile took over your face when you finally reached the beach — one that he couldn't help but mirror, feeling at ease over the way your hand had tightened around his as you fastened your pace towards the sand.

You stopped just before the sand turned wet and the waves could reach your feet, yet were still close enough to feel the small drops of salty water that were dragged by the wind to lightly hit your body.

The sun had just started to go down, creating a blue canvas in the sky that turned darker with each passing second, and which was painted by bright strokes of pink and orange that mixed together at certain points.

You couldn't tell whether this was the most beautiful sunset you had ever seen, or whether it was only the fact that you had Hyunjin with you to watch it what made it so special.

Whatever the answer was, you couldn't take your eyes off of it — only doing so to look at Hyunjin when you felt his arms sneak around your waist and his chin rest on your shoulder. You could get used to this new habit of his.

"I always wanted to do this…" you sighed dreamingly, placing your hands over his.

"Do what?" he mumbled, looking up at you.

"You're gonna say it's corny".

"Tell me" he encouraged you.

"Watch the sunset with the person I… you know…" you laughed timidly.

Hyunjin felt a pinch in his chest, and he couldn't tell whether it was out of the insane amount of love he was feeling for you or out of pain.

He knew what you had wanted to say, and he knew you had stopped yourself from saying it not to make him uncomfortable — because, in the end, although his lack of previous response had not hurt you, it did make you fear you'd put him in a tough place if you kept saying it.

Pressing his lips to your shoulder and then clearing his throat, he pulled away from you. "I brought you something, by the way…"

"I thought you said there were no more surprises?" you cocked an eyebrow.

He chuckled, kneeling down on the sand before he took off his backpack and rummaged through it. "It's not really a surprise if we had agreed on making this for each other".

"You brought me your painting?!" you perked up at that, sitting down right next to him with crossed legs.

Hyunjin nodded, silently taking the painting out and handing it to you. "Your painting now, technically".

One look at it, and it had already become your favourite painting in the world.

You had made many portraits in your life, but you had never been on the other end of it. You had never seen yourself through someone else's eyes, and seeing yourself through Hyunjin's right there sent a million butterflies flying around your stomach.

It was funny how both of you had painted each other. However, both works of art were very different.

You had gone with a darker palette — ocean blue being the main star of it. Hyunjin, on the other hand, had gone for lighter colours like white, violet and yellow.

You had used more of a zoomed out picture of him —not like you had used an actual picture, as you had used nothing but your memory to paint that beautiful face of his you had fallen in love with at first sight—, and he had made your face justice by making it the main attraction.

However, although your face was the first thing that caught your eye, your attention and admiration went to the flowers he had painted around. The very same ones he had called you out about earlier that day.

"So… you like it?" Hyunjin asked softly, unable to hide just how nervous he was over your reaction.

"Baby…" your eyes fixed on his expectant one. "It's beautiful, I love it".

"You do?" he giggled.

"Yes, it's—" your eyes went back to the painting, and Hyunjin's smile grew brighter at the way you admired it. "Fuck, it's so beautiful I could cry".

"Now you know how I felt when I saw the one you made for me".

You smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "I really love it, Jinnie. Thank you".

"Don't make me shy now…" he warned you breathily.

"Aw, can't the guy who lives for the spotlight at Mrs. Moon's class take a compliment now?" you taunted.

"It's different…" he rested his head on yours. "I had never painted something for anyone before".

And the fact that the first time he ever did it was for you did not help his case at all.

Your heart soared, and you couldn't help but press another kiss to his cheek — this time closer to the corner of his mouth.

"Well, I love it" you whispered. "Especially the small details of the daisies".

"Yeah… forget about me calling them basic earlier and all that".

You shoved him away with your shoulder as you laughed. "I want to believe this painting as a whole isn't calling me basic".

"I would never" he murmured against your lips, pressing a soft kiss to them.

"That's good," you smirked. "Because you drew a daisy on me once, so that would've been sad".

Hyunjin looked dumbfounded for a second before he got what you meant — a throaty yet somewhat nervous laugh making its way out of his mouth as he was flooded with memories of the night you first kissed.

He didn't think you'd even remember the small blue doodle of a daisy he had taken his time drawing on your neck.

He should've known better, though, for the first thing you did that night after he walked you home and you said your good nights was to go in front of a mirror and check your neck out. You were expecting to see an embarrassing drawing, the kind middle schoolers would draw on their friends' notebooks when they left them unattended, but you were met with a surprisingly neat daisy adorning your skin instead.

You had loved it, and although you were too shy to ever bring it up to him or to anyone else at all, it was a memory you had kept close to your heart. The first ever thing Hyunjin drew for you —or on you— being something you loved so much. And now the first ever proper painting he made for you had, too, made a beautiful inclusion of it.

"You've just made them your whole thing now, ever since we met" he explained. "So I think of you whenever I see them".

"You do?"

"Mhm… you're pretty like them".

"Just pretty?" you batted your eyelashes.

A low chuckle abandoned his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you. "Pretty beautiful, actually".

"Ew, when did you get so corny?" your nose scrunched up in disgust.

"Oh, don't act like you don't love it" his eyes squinted accusingly.

You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief. "God, I love you".

There it was again.

You had breathed those words out like it was so natural for you. Your eyes were no longer on him this time, though, but on the painting he had made for you instead, which could only make him feel like you hadn't even realised you had said it.

It just came that naturally to you.

"You used watercolor in the end" you pointed out, looking up at him with a smile.

"I don't think it was ever up for debate" he chuckled.

"I thought of using it as well…" you admitted, much to his surprise. "But then I thought about the painting I had started that night you came to the studio and thought I could finish it for you… it was all about you after all".

"That's why it looked so familiar" he brought a dramatic hand to his mouth.

"It's not like you got to see much of it back then" you shyly laughed.

"No, because your pretty face was taking up most of it".

You felt your cheeks heat up at his remark — not only because of the use of the word 'pretty', but also because of how your face lying on the fresh paint had been what led up to your first kiss.

"So, you were painting me in blue back then… should I be worried?"

You shrugged, this time a somewhat sad smile reaching your eyes. "You really did put me through a lot, Hwang Hyunjin".

He smiled sadly, too. "I know…"

"Although it was mostly my fault, because I was the one who kept chasing after you even when you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me" you nervously fidgeted with the sand under you. "And! The painting is not all blue as you can see, there are some bright colours, too. I added the yellow moon to the sky after that same night".

"Why the yellow moon, though?" he asked.

"Yellow makes me happy" you shrugged nonchalantly. "And the moon reminds me of you".

A bright smile parted Hyunjin's lips. "So you're saying I make you happy?"

"Shut up" you warned him.

"Do I make you happy, baby?" he cooed tauntingly.

"Of course you do…" you murmured, not meeting his eyes. "Now leave me alone, I'm embarrassed".

A throaty laugh escaped his mouth, not letting you push him away like you had playfully tried to do, and instead tugging at your wrist. "Noo, come here".

Before you could even protest, he was pulling you to his lap. You straddled it like he wanted, arms naturally resting over his shoulders while his hands fell loosely over your lower back.

You couldn't help but look around for a moment, suddenly hitting you that you were in a public place and anyone could see how lovey dovey you were being.

Luckily for you, the sun had just set completely and the beach was pretty much dessert — the only people who were still there were either friends catching up on their lives or couples who were already too into their own worlds to pay attention to anything else.

Two fingers on your chin brought your attention back to Hyunjin. His nose rubbed gently against yours and his lips brushed yours ever so softly.

"Kiss me" he whispered.

You rested your forehead on his and cupped his cheek before you whispered, "In front of all these people? While I'm sitting on your lap?"

"That's what I said".

"You think you'll be able to control yourself?"

He snorted quietly, shaking his head in amusement before he cupped your cheek instead and pressed his mouth to yours.

Guess you would just have to find out.

The hand of yours that was still over his shoulder tightened around his neck, right as his hand on your back pushed your chest closer to his and his tongue traced your bottom lip for you to open up. Once you did and your tongues met one another, he couldn't hold back the small contented sigh that abandoned his mouth.

The kiss was soft, slow, tender — not a single rush in the world as it felt like you were the only two people in it that night.

"I love you…"

It wasn't coming out of your lips this time, but out of his.

It came out as a whisper, barely audible if it weren't for his mouth being attached to yours, but there was not a single hint of hesitation in his voice.

Your eyes opened in a heartbeat, being met with his genuine yet surprised ones, as the words had seemed to have slipped out of his mouth before he could even notice.

Maybe it was that easy to say those three words after all.

"What?" you asked in a whisper, pulling him slightly away by his shoulders. "No, Jinnie, I didn't… I wasn't expecting y—I wasn't trying to pressure you when I said—"

Your trembling rambling was shut down with a soft kiss of his.

"You really think I would say it if I didn't mean it? After how fucking hard I tried to avoid love all these years?"

"Why didn't you say it back at the exhibition then?" you frowned.

"I froze," he shamefully admitted. "I wanted to say it back so bad but I just couldn't get the words out".

"You mean it?" you whispered, still in disbelief.

"Of course I mean it. I've been struggling not to say it for a while now, too, but then you said it first… twice… and I guess I got too stunned to say anything back".

"Seems like I'm always one step ahead of you when it comes to love" you proudly stated.

"That you are" he agreed, smiling sweetly while his thumb drew small circles on your chin. "I really love you, Y/N".

You pouted, feeling like you could cry out of happiness right then and there. "I love you, too".

He pulled you into a kiss, probably the happiest one you had shared, as the curved up corners of your lips and the breathy laughs escaping them made it hard for you to suck on them.

"Is that why you brought me here?" you asked against his pink mouth. "To tell me this?"

He bit his lip, lowering his head and fidgeting with your fingers. "It was actually so I could ask you to be my girlfriend…"

Your heart skipped a beat, having to take a moment not to let out a squeal. "You planned to ask me at the beach all along?"

"No, um… I was supposed to ask you at the exposition, actually" he tilted his head. "But then you told me you loved me and I froze and, well…"

"You really had that much of a hard time trying to ask me?"

"No, I mean, I don't know?" he whined. "You're just, you".

"What is that supposed to mean?" you laughed under your breath.

"It means that I wanted it to be perfect but then again I still get so nervous around you and feelings are still ugh, and I get all—you make me so flustered, woman".

You threw your head back, this time laughing with your whole chest over how cute his troubled expression was.

"Aw, I love that" coming back to look at him, you pulled him in to kiss his nose. "You're adorable".

"That's not really the reaction I was going for…" he joked.

"You know it didn't have to be perfect, right? You could've just asked me while we were hanging out back at yours or mine, or even after class for all I care" you tenderly pushed back a strand of hair that was covering his eye. "I would've said yes regardless".

"I asked you when we were in bed the first time and you said no" he pouted.

"You were drunk," you reminded him, earning an obnoxiously cute shrug from him. "I wanted you to mean it when you said it".

"I did mean it" he fought.

"I wanted you to say it without the influence of alcohol in the middle then".

"Alcohol made it easier, though" Hyunjin pouted.

You cupped his face as a small laugh escaped your mouth. "I bet it did" your thumb traced the corner of his mouth, where you pressed a light kiss to. "And for the record, I never said no".

"You told me to ask you again when I was sober".

"Which made it implicit that I was saying yes".

"Are you saying yes now then?"

"If you ask me properly…" you sighed over-dramatically. "Then possibly".

"You're just playing with me at this point" he recriminated, earning an amused chuckle from you.

"Maybe…" you taunted him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Do you know the implications of me becoming your girlfriend, though, Hwang Hyunjin?"

"Of course I know," he smirked, pulling you in. "It means you'll be all mine".

You bit your bottom lip. "It also means you'll be all mine, though".

He shrugged. "I've already been for a while now".

"I've also been yours for a while now. A pretty good while, actually".

Hyunjin chuckled, his hand running up and down your back. "Maybe, but now I'll be able to go up to any douchebag who tries to hit on you and let them know you're mine".

"Haven't you already done that?" you chuckled, and his smirk only grew. "You even used the word 'girlfriend' if I'm not mistaken, which I was not back then".

His plump lips trapped your bottom one in between, gently sucking on it before he slowly pulled at it with his teeth.

"Be my girlfriend then? For real?" he mumbled against your lips, and you felt like you would die when his hungry eyes stared at your mouth for a couple of seconds before they went up to your eyes.

You nodded, because words were not something you could speak anymore.

"Words, baby" he pushed it. "I need you to say it".

"Of course I'll be your girlfriend, Jinnie".

His eyes turned into two crescent moons, and suddenly you realised why the moon reminded you of him. With a breathy giggle leaving his mouth, he pulled you into another kiss — the first one you would share as an official couple.

Looking back at it, you couldn't believe you were living all this with the guy who used to avoid your attempts —or avoid you as a whole— and who claimed not to want a relationship, ever. You couldn't believe your feelings were returned in the end, and that he actually wanted to be with you in a serious, formal relationship.

But here you were, in a Busan beach after the sun went down, sitting on his lap while one of his hands remained on your lower back and the other one on your nape, sharing a kiss that somehow managed to be more special than all the others you had shared that day.

"What's so funny?" he wondered when a small, breathy laugh ran past your lips.

"I managed to get you in the end, huh?" you giggled, earning an amused roll of eyes from him. "Was I too charming for you not to fall for me, baby?"

"Don't let it get to your head" he warned you.

"Oh, I would never" you smirked.

Hyunjin shook his head in amusement, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your forehead right as you shivered. "It's getting cold..." he pointed out, looking around to realise there was no one else at the beach anymore. "Let's go back to the hotel, yeah?"

You nodded, standing up from his lap and offering him a hand to help him up before you could pick up the half emptied cups of coffee. "Should we get something to eat?"

"You're hungry?" he asked while putting his backpack on.

"Not really," you shrugged, handing him his coffee. "But it's late…"

"We could order some food later" he suggested, pulling you closer and stealing a lingering kiss from your addictive lips. "Just want to head straight to our hotel room now".

"I'm guessing you did bring a condom this time around?" you teased, although you both knew you were half serious.

"Tsk. Of course I did. Learned my lesson the hard way with you" he shook his head. "Besides, I was being quite optimistic about today".

"Oh, were you now?"

"Mhm..." he nodded, interlocking his fingers with yours before you started walking back to the hotel. "I actually brought like fifteen of them".

You laughed. "Don't test your luck, Hwang Hyunjin".

"You did say we had all night to ourselves".

"You said that".

"And you agreed".

Hearing your laugh right then and feeling you lean closer to him in look for warmth, he could only feel the luckiest to have you with him.

Things had not exactly gone according to plan today, and despite it making him upset at first, it was that little detour what allowed him to hear you say you loved him. And although it took him a while, he, too, had told you he loved you.

It was that little detour what allowed him to ask you to be his girlfriend without feeling like his heart would break out of his chest at any given moment — though he did still feel nervous when he asked you anyway. But it was natural, the words had made their way out of his mouth effortlessly, not even giving him time to chicken out like he had done a couple of times by now.

And somehow, that little moment of yours at the beach, ignoring the world around you as nothing and no one else seemed to matter, had been so much more special than anything he could've ever planned.

In the end, he realised he didn't have to try so hard and instead let things take their own course and go on their own pace. When it came to you, no matter what happened, you would be able to find your way back to each other. The two of you could always count on that.

tag list: @blaaiissee @hyuneytoast @staysuki @tardiscompanion @princehyun-jin @hyuka-luvbot @halesandy @nattisbored @berryberrytan @hibuki-chan @purenjuniverse @seungly @suhnnyskiess @midsoulz @kwanisms @esme-ordaz @candyapletree @firnze @soobin-chois @moon-320 @ohmyteez @elviransworld @valewoos @ktttwwn @hazzaloveschopsuey @hannahdinse8 @zoe8stay @leechanniee @phenomenalgirl9 @aeminju @threevracha @laryisthinking @wolfietara @iam2out @peterparkoure @cosmic-railwayxo @straykidsficsrecsbaby @marsophilia @choibeomgogi @ddaengpotate @oceanyocean @rinsdesires @jhslmhbtsskz @lixlovesworld @keenlampponyclam @yerimselgi @mal-lunar-28 @littlestarhyun @mingiholic @euphroseia

[seungminstaehyun]

PLUTO.

PART I

Chapters: Part II / Epilogue

Hyunjin x reader. (s,a)

Synopsis: Knowing that your life will end soon, you choose to have your desired death by making a pact with the devil with a red hair, Hyunjin. (16,7k words)

Author's note: This was supposed to be a Halloween fic but it seems like New Year is the perfect time to release it. It's about renewal and awakening but with a little bit of chaos in it.

Warning: Mentions sulcidal thoughts and may be triggering. Reader discretion is advised!

Which one is worse: Living or dying first?

You asked yourself as you stood there rethinking all of your decisions that led to this.

A gust of wind blowing your white dress, cold and harsh, like a slap in the face.

You let out a heavy sigh, the steam of your breath formed a curl of white smoke against the dark of the night.

You looked down, down below from the top of the building where everything seemed so small and people looked like specks of dust, looked down beyond your quivering feet, so high you couldn't even see the bottom, the concrete that would welcome you when you plunge to your death.

Was it a good decision? You asked yourself.

Death is easy.

A stab to the heart, a drop of poison, a cardiac arrest, a hypoxia.

Life is hard.

You wake up to another day of a mundane, dull life, work, home, sleep, eat, sigh and do it all over again the next day. Life is pain itself and everybody dies at the end.

You either die now or later, what makes the difference?

All you need was one jump then it's all over.

Death is that easy.

You took a shaky breath, whether it was from the cold or the fear creeping from the inside, a survival instinct in you that told you to get off the ledge and into the safe side.

You carefully put your leg up and are ready to leap, your mind went blank.

You screamed at the vast night sky because the silence got too deafening then like your brain betrayed you, shut you down before you make the worst mistake of your life, you got off the ledge.

You almost slipped and fell off the top of the building just like how you planned, but you found a hand that grabbed yours. Slender fingers decorated with metal rings, pale and hot to the touch, wrapped around your waist, holding you from falling, from death.

He helped you get off the ledge by lifting you by the waist then put you down gently, away from the edge of the building.

"You're hot," you said.

"It's not the first time I heard that," he said with a teeth-baring grin.

You shook your head, "I mean, you're literally hot," you corrected yourself, it was like he had spent hours by the fire and absorbed all of the heat.

He didn't reply but shoved his hands into the pocket of his dress pants.

"How ironic!" He suddenly said.

"An angel," he said, pointing to you who was dressed in an angel costume with its halo headband, "and a devil," he said, placing his hand on his chest to present himself, "met on a rooftop of a building,"

Your eyes were blurry with tears that made you realize that you were crying, cheeks wet and flushed from the cold.

"An angel about to fall but the devil helps her get off the ledge," he finished.

Did he see everything?

You roughly wiped your tears to see him better.

He was wearing a three-piece suit as black as the night, long hair, slicked back, red like hellfire. He has a small face, pale white skin, and small but smoldering eyes, then the lips, red and plump, like a cherry.

He looked at you with his head slightly tilted to the side, observing you like you were an object that intrigued his mind.

And if he weren't blinking, you would have mistaken him as a statue, a perfectly carved marble statue more beautiful than David by Michelangelo.

"Why don't I buy you some drinks and you can tell me how you got here?" He offered, one corner of his mouth raised higher than the other, forming a sinister smile.

You hugged yourself, either your body was seeking warmth or trying to comfort yourself, considering his offer like solving a math problem.

And he took a step closer, held out his hand at you.

You were slightly shivering from the cold, you started to get a runny nose and the invitation suddenly got so tempting, knowing that his hand would offer you some warmth.

You nodded and let him lead you back inside.

He didn't take you back to the Halloween party your company was having, he took you somewhere else, an empty lounge bar that you didn't know even existed in the building.

He welcomed you to sit on one of the stools that face the counter then he stood, took his suit jacket off in an elegant manner, folded it then placed it on the next stool next to you.

He smiled when he caught you watching him rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows without blinking, he spared you from being embarrassed by hurriedly going behind the counter.

He put his hands on the counter and leaned forward at you, "what do you want to drink?" He asked you with eyes pierced right into yours.

"Anything," you answered. You couldn't decide when it felt like all the knowledge in your brain suddenly vanished when he looked at you dead in the eyes like that.

He squinted his eyes as he thought of something to make for you.

"I think I know the perfect drink for you," he said then went on to grab everything.

It was so riveting, seeing him gathering all the ingredients and pouring them one by one into a shaker: ice, red liquid, red-colored syrup, and vodka, finished it with a spritz of lemon.

He started shaking all the mixture together, shaking your thoughts away then hurriedly clearing your throat.

"Are you working here?" You asked.

He cracked a mystifying laugh at you but not answering your question.

He placed a glass on top of the counter and then poured the cocktails into it, seamlessly without spilling a drop.

For the garnish, he put raspberries in a stick into the glass then presented it to you, and slid the glass right in front of you.

The red cocktail sparkling in the dim light, you lifted it close enough to take a sniff of the sweet-smelling drink.

You glanced up at him and he bat his eyelash at you, giving you permission to drink.

You took a careful sip, it was a bit sour, a bit bitter but it was sweet in the end.

You have to admit that he has a prowess for bartending.

"This is good!" You praised him as he cleaned up the counter.

"What it's called?"

"A love potion," he playfully answered.

You blinked a few times, thinking you misheard him.

He laughed, "it's just a raspberry martini!"

He picked up a cherry from a bowl, stuck his tongue just enough to put it on it, bite the stem between his teeth then pulled it out.

"Do you like it?" He asked.

Once again, you got caught ogling over him doing such a mundane thing as eating a cherry.

"I like it," you said, whether he asked about the drink or the scene that just happened in front of you.

He poured himself a drink, a whiskey and you could feel the alcohol burnt your tongue as he filled the glass half full, then added an ice cube.

He went to sit next to you, took a sip of his drink once he was seated then placed the glass on the counter, the ice made a clinking sound inside the glass as he moves.

You clank your drinks together then took sips of your drinks at the same time and it was getting sweeter the more you drink your cocktail.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you get there?" He asked, licking his lower lip that made it even more luscious, inviting you to get a taste.

"I don't know. Desperation, I guess," you answered with low giggles. It baffled you that you got to act like that around a stranger you met barely an hour ago.

"Why would a beautiful girl like you be that desperate?" He asked with eyes that secretly assessed you like you were a Rubik's cube that needs to be solved.

"I'm dying," you shortly replied as you stared deep into your drink.

"Figuratively?" He asked.

You laughed but skipped on answering.

"You must think I'm dramatic," you said, you weren't even going to try to shoot your shot. You have no chance with him, there's no use in trying.

"No," he strongly denied yet his voice remained low and calm.

"There's nothing dramatic in letting yourself deep in your feelings," he added.

You looked at him or braved yourself to do so, for a few seconds before looking away.

"I just want it to end," you said.

It surprised you that the words fell out of your mouth like that, you blamed it on the drink but you saw that he only put a shot of vodka in it. There was no way you let loose like this without being drunk first.

"I just want to end my life my way," you said to him, correcting your first statement.

"I'm conflicted because if I do it, my parents will get sad," you explained, "but I don't want to wait for my life to end either. I want to end it my way, at a time that I decided for myself," you said with sadness in your eyes.

"It's my life after all. I get to decide how and when to end my life, right?"

He hummed, trying to catch on to what you were trying to say and gently nodding.

He propped a hand under his chin with his index finger touching his lower lip, looking into your eyes as if he was searching for something in them.

He slightly parted his mouth open and licked his lower lip, making it wetter and redder than before.

"How about you sell your soul to me?"

You burst out laughing, he said it as if he really is a devil with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Yeah, sure!" You played along with him, stirring your cocktail with the stick.

"And in return, you get to have your desired death," he offered a deal.

You ate the raspberries and chewed on them, "that's actually... a nice deal," you said to him.

"I know, right?" He exclaimed, then took a small sip of his drink, "but you have to give me three reasons why I should approve the deal."

"You want me to appeal?"

He nodded.

"Well, first, I don't want to make my parents sad. If I end myself, I can imagine how devastated they would be and I believe they'd blame themselves for it. I don't want that," you explained.

"Second, my life..." you heavily sighed as it summed up how fed up you were with your life, "I feel like there's nothing I can do with my life anymore, it is stagnant like that, it can't go further than this,"

"Or maybe, you haven't looked thoroughly enough," he commented.

"I don't intend to find out anyway," you meekly said, you hurriedly drank your cocktail and let the alcohol burn down the cries trying to escape your throat.

He stayed quiet but intently listened to you, tracing the rim of his glass with his index finger.

"And the third?"

"I told you," you beamed with a foolish smile, this time you were convinced you got a bit drunk.

"You're dying?"

You nodded then finished your drink with one long gulp.

"Figuratively?" He asked for confirmation.

You shook your head, "sadly, no," you said.

You folded your hands on the counter and rested your chin on it, "that's why I don't want to wait for my end to come," you said to him.

He sighed then tilted his head upward, looking up at the ceiling, "And they say life is beautiful?" He sneered at the vast emptiness of the bar.

You let a scornful laugh with eyes drooping lower with each passing second.

"Are those enough to appeal to you?" You asked.

He finished his drink and gasped once he gulped down all of his drink, "I'll think about it," he said.

You snickered, amused that he treated this as if it was real and that he seriously considering it.

"Yeah, take your time," you joked to him with a sleepy smile, and after that nothing.

-

A day in your life always went like this.

You woke up at 5:30 am, did your laundry then cook breakfast, showered then dressed up for work.

You went out and listened to your neighbor arguing about the trash bags again for the umpteenth time as you passed their door. You bought a cup of coffee and got on a bus to work, on a good day, someone would offer you to sit on their seat but that rarely happens.

You worked as a columnist for a newspaper but mostly, to write a review of children's books and or an event of people who paid the newspaper to write about it, who wanted it to be publicly known.

Your boss never took you seriously, that's why he only gave you jobs that other people won't take and also because you would accept everything he gave you.

"Let me guess, a reunion?" Kim asked, a co-worker who sits next to your desk.

"Close. It's an anniversary of a nursing home," you answered, "one of our executives is one of their biggest donators.”

"Well, of course! You'd better make his name big and bold in the article," she sneered.

"Noted!" You beamed in response.

The little delight in an office like this is to talk about lame things that would make you feel better about your life at least for a few seconds before you descend into the pit again.

You swiveled your chair in her direction, "did you perhaps see me leaving the Halloween party?"

She pursed her lips while tugging a pen between her teeth, "I think the last time I saw you was when you said you needed to get some fresh air," she answered.

You recalled everything you did that night, including the part where you went to the rooftop and almost plunge to your death but that didn't happen. You remembered someone stopped you, took you inside to have a drink then from there, it was a big blank.

You didn't know how you get home that night and woke up in a sweat, your Halloween costume stuck to your skin and your shoes neatly placed on the threshold.

"But I can't remember that night either. Someone from the printing got me on a taxi home," she grimaced.

"Oh yeah, I got a little drunk as well," you said despite your memory of last night was still blurry to you.

"I better get started on my article," then swiveled your chair back, pushed to your desk, and started working.

On the afternoon, you went to the pantry to make your fourth cup of coffee of the day. You waited for the machine to finish while looking out the window.

"Can you make me a cup too?" Someone asked from behind you.

You turned around to find Minho. Your friend since the first year of college, the one who asked you to intern at the newspaper together and got the jobs at the same time, the sole reason why you were still here and the one you've been secretly in love with, your first love and the only person you ever fall in love with, staring at you with a smile on his face.

"A black coffee for Minho. On it!" You said to him.

He walked up to you and helped you get a clean mug from the top cabinet.

His hand brushed yours as he handed the mug to you.

You carefully poured the hot coffee into his mug and ripped a pack of brown sugar to add to it.

"Exactly how I like it!" He exclaimed to you with a satisfied smile.

You walked out of the pantry together while carrying your mugs in your hands, catching up with each other since he worked in a different department with you.

"I didn't see you much at the Halloween party," he said.

You swallowed, "I left early," you quickly answered.

"Why? I think I looked for you all night," he said.

He exaggerated it but you took it that he was being nice to you like he always does to you, "I didn't feel well," you lied, but not entirely.

"It's going to get cold, you better start wearing warm clothes," he softly spoke with a hand on your shoulder.

"Sure, I will," you said.

Someone called for him from across the room and he excused himself and squeezed your shoulder before leaving you.

You followed where he was going, knowing well that what was going to happen next would agonize you.

He came to her girlfriend, stood next to her while she talked to him about something, putting all of his attention on her with a smile on his face.

"Is that for me?" She asked him, pointing to the mug of coffee in his hand.

He considered it for a second and handed it to her, "You can have it!"

And there you were, could only look at someone else having what you wanted the most, his love.

It was your fault. You want all that is not yours. You want someone who doesn't want you back. This was all your fault.

You walked back to your desk and plopped down your chair, took a haste sip of your coffee, and let it burn your tongue as a way to avert the stinging pain you felt inside with a physical one.

"I'm going home!" Your co-worker announced once the clock strike 5 o'clock.

"See you tomorrow!" She said to you then gathered all of her things from her desk.

"See you!" You said back before she exited the office.

You dragged yourself to put your things back into your bag and waited for that one saddest part of your day.

You waited and waited, then there he was, Minho glanced at you with a smile on his face, "hey, aren't you going home?"

"In a bit," you answered and forced a smile for him.

His girlfriend came to his side in a matter of seconds and held his hand, it was like she has a radar that would tell her whenever he got too close to you.

"Let's have dinner next time!" He said and he had said it more than dozens of times already but never did.

But still, the intention alone was enough for you, "Bye Minho!" You said to him.

"Bye!" He said to you then left with her girlfriend.

There was nothing that excites you anymore for the rest of the day, but to mourn your life in your tiny apartment.

You saw your mother's shoes on the threshold and knew right away that she came to your apartment unannounced like she always does.

"Mom, you came without telling me again," you told her because just like all mothers do, she likes being nosy and digging through your things.

She was squatting down in front of your fridge, then sighed, "You know what makes me really sad? When I found your fridge empty like this," she said with an edge to her voice.

"What did you expect, mom? I rarely cook," you told her.

"I'd rather have leftovers and expired food in your fridge than just these," she said as she took out all the empty water bottles.

You sighed because talking back to her would only lead to an endless argument so you refrained and tossed your bag on the empty chair.

"Come! Have dinner with me!" She ordered.

You reluctantly sat on the chair and let her serve you food, obeying her like this so she would go on her way faster and leave you alone for the rest of the night.

She asked the same questions, about life, work, friends, and everything that you have no interest in anymore, which is life in general.

"How's dad?" You finally asked, to stop her from asking more about your life.

"Enjoying his retirement like always," she answered.

Your parents were on the verge of giving up the idea of having children when they had you.

Your mom was in her late 30s when she had you, she almost died when she gave birth to you and that made you precious to them. You are their only child, the one that gave them a chance and the joy to be a parent, their only hope to continue their bloodline and carry their genes and soon to be their biggest disappointment.

She left after giving you a series of scolds, ruffling your hair like she always does since you were little and hugging you, then finally leaving you alone in your own private space.

You sat by the small balcony, hugging your knees while looking out the window, wrapping yourself in a blanket because of the cold gust of winter wind even though spring is around the corner.

You fell asleep on your bedroom floor and woke up to the excruciating migraine that always comes so suddenly, without warning.

You crawled to the bedside table and hoisted yourself to get on the bed, pulled open the drawer to take out the medicine.

You rummaged inside the drawer in the dark, shaking up the last of the pills onto your palm and shoved it down your throat, swallowed it down with a few gulps of water.

You sighed into the void of your bedroom and the walls echoed it back to you.

-

"You have to start your treatment immediately!" Your doctor insisted.

"Immediately!" He pressured you, completely annoyed with your nonchalant attitude about your own health.

He was the only one who cared about your well-being, even more than you do to yourself.

"I just need pills for the migraines," you told him in a calm manner.

He hissed and sighed through his gritted teeth.

"Do you have any idea how severe your condition is? You are dying! You'll die soon if you don't receive any treatment," he hopelessly reminded you of your grim future.

"I know that really well," you said to him.

Then again, your attitude only pissed him off more.

"Please, let me assist you. Let me help you, it's a shot in the dark but it's worth a try," he said to you, begging with all of his heart. He must have a lot of pity for you, an old man like him feeling sad for a young girl like you, to suffer such an illness instead of him who already bagged so many life experiences.

Aside from the fact that he's taken the Hippocratic oath, he probably thinks of you like his own daughter.

"Doctor, I don't want to receive any treatment. I just want pills for my migraines," you said again, sternly this time.

He reluctantly took his notepad and scribbled something on it, roughly ripped the paper before handing it to you.

"Please reconsider it before it's too late," he said to you.

"I will," you said despite your decision being final.

"Thank you!" You muttered to him at the end.

It started with the constant migraines and pounding headaches, then when it got too unbearable, you got it checked at the hospital.

When you think life can't be more bountiful, it came with a surprise gift: A tumor on your brain.

To put it simply, you were dying, you lived on numbered days and you have roughly 3 months or less to live according to what the doctor said.

You never had any suicidal thoughts before that, but then again, depression is one of the side effects of dying. Because a surprise gift wrapped in the prettiest bow,

You had informed the office that you'd be coming late and once you arrived, you got called to the editor's office because you didn't highlight the amount of donation the executive made to the nursing home and had to redo the whole article. You took one pill before started working, clenching your fists as you began typing on your keyboard, and just breathe.

As usual, you waited for the saddest part of your day to pass, holding his girlfriend's hand like she would fly away if he didn't, fingers intertwined, so tight.

"Hey, have a good evening!" He said to you.

At least he didn't promise the dinner again which made you quietly wish it came true one day.

"You too!" You said back to him with a thin smile.

You popped another pill even though the migraine had slowly diminished, or maybe you took it because you thought it would also lessen the intangible pain inside you.

You spent the night by the balcony again, sitting down by the sill, wrapped in a blanket looking at the half-moon shining so bright above the city.

It was at a time like this you always thought of death.

The question mainly focused on 'when'? When is the good time to die? Now? Tomorrow? Two days again? By the weekend? At the end of the month?

There was always something stopping you, either your brain offering you logical options, to call the hospital and seek treatment but most of the time, it was just the reminder that you need to take care of a few things before the one final, last breath.

It didn't make you sad at all, the more you thought about it the lighter you got like you were stripping away a layer of fear of yourself.

Accepting reality is easier than keep avoiding it.

You got up in the middle of the night feeling nauseous, immediately ran to the bathroom, then vomited into the toilet bowl. Tears, sweat, and hair stuck to your face, you flushed the toilet, collapsing on the bathroom floor after. Curled up on the tiled floor of the bathroom, suffering from the pain that you have to deal with until you eventually die.

After a moment of trying to gain your consciousness, you heard footsteps approaching your way through the vibration on the floor.

Your vision blurred with tears and you could make out the shape of a dark figure looming in the doorway of your bathroom, tall with a hint of red.

You were in no condition to either fight or fight, you barely had any strength to take a stand.

The figure approached you then you felt the warmth of his hand, cupping your cheek.

"You suffer so much," the figure said.

He ran his fingers down your face and forced you to close both of your eyes, it was a simple touch yet it worked to send you into a painless, dreamless sleep.

-

You made a cup of coffee the second you arrived at the office.

You could feel nauseous from last night lingering inside you and felt another cup of coffee would help. You felt a hand resting on the small of your back and quickly turned on your heel to see who it is, "oh Minho, good morning!" You said, half surprised to see him so early in the office like this.

"You came early!" He said to you.

If he paid attention to you just a little, he would know that you always come early, at the same time every morning.

"Yeah," you half-heartedly answered.

"Which is perfect!" He exclaimed, then leaned against the counter to face you, "I need your help," he said.

"What is it?"

"I have an article and I have to turn it in this afternoon. Can you help me edit it?" He asked as he ripped two packs of creamers with his teeth, then poured it into your coffee.

He stirred it with a spoon while you were holding the mug in your hand, he licked the spoon once he was done then tossed it onto the sink.

"Please?" He asked.

It became a habit of yours, to always submit to his wishes whether you intended to or not.

"Of course!" You said.

You huddled close together in front of his computer, editing the article together and mashing ideas together. He couldn't deny that the two of you made a great team, especially when it comes to writing, it has been like that since college.

"It reminds me of our college years," he said to you.

You turned your head a smiled at him, suddenly aware of the proximity that you hurriedly swiveled your chair to the other way.

"Yes," you sheepishly replied.

"Let me treat you to lunch today!" He said.

"No, it's okay, it's nothing," you kindly refused, holding up your hands at him.

He grabbed your hands and put them down on your lap, "just wait by your desk, I'll pick you up later!" he said with a smile.

Kim invited you for lunch like she always does but you refused since you waited for Minho to pick you up just as he promised.

But he didn't come, even after Kim came back from her lunch and gave you a puzzling look.

"I'm not that hungry," you lied to her and assured her that you felt like skipping lunch.

You got ready for leaving the office, shoving everything into your bag, and didn't even wait for the saddest part of your day to pass like you usually do.

You went home and slept the day away, when you woke up in the dark of your home, you found someone sitting on the balcony that you used to sit on.

You scrambled to turn on the light and found him.

The guy with the hellfire hair and luscious lips, eating an apple.

"I hope you don't mind me taking an apple from your fridge," he said to you.

You roughly pinched the bridge of your nose then rubbed the corner of your eyes, "How do you get in here?" You asked.

"Through the window," he answered.

"But uh... I-" your head was still drowsy.

"I don't think I have apples in the house," you tried again.

He softly sighed, "You should check your fridge because you have a whole box of it," he said.

He got off the balcony and entered your room, standing at the end of your bed looking at you, "I wanted to talk to you yesterday but you didn't look good," he said.

"Talk about what?" You scooted to the edge of the bed, then stopped, your head was spinning and your hands were shaking.

"You shouldn't have skipped lunch and dinner altogether," he said to you.

You limped to exit your bedroom and trudged your way to the kitchen, opened the fridge with all of your strength, finding a whole box of apples inside just like he said.

"Mom..." You sighed with your head still stuck inside the fridge.

He fitted himself in the small space and took two apples, "here, you have one and I have another," he said, handing one to you.

He didn't hesitate to take a bite of the apple and it made a delicious crunching sound that strangely evoke your appetite.

You caved in and took a bite, the sweet juice started to fill your mouth, satisfying your hunger and thirst at once.

He leaned against the kitchen counter, across from you, and looked at you as you stood there chewing on your apple.

"I've been thinking about it," he said.

"What?"

"About the deal."

"What deal?"

"That you want to sell your soul to me and in return I give you your desired death," he replied.

And it all came back rushing through your head like a bursting dam. He was the guy from that night, the one who helped you get off the ledge, who made you that sweet cocktail, and probably the one who took you home, that's why he knew your address.

You gasped and almost threw the apple away, "you're the guy from that night," you exclaimed at him.

"Glad you remember!" He said to you with an unimpressed look.

"The devil," you recalled.

"In the flesh," he finished your sentence.

"Except that you aren't real," you said.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he decided to move on "anyway, I brought the contract," he said, pulling out something from behind him, a piece of paper, worn and torn at the seam.

"I wrote down everything in the contract and you can read all of it," he paused to walk up to you then stopped just a step away from you, handing the paper to you.

"Just take your time, no need to rush to sign it and I'll be back before midnight," he said.

You took the paper from him and it smelled exactly like you imagined, a page of an old book.

"B–but how?" You asked in pure confusion.

You exhaled a long breath to calm your erratic breathing, "how do I know that this is all real?"

He soft chuckled while rubbing his chin with his knuckle, "just learn the contract paper," he said then took another bite of his apple before throwing the core into the trash bin.

He walked back to your bedroom and you were late to follow him, you caught the last of him getting out of your window to the balcony. But once you looked outside, there was no sight of him or the red of his hair anywhere.

It was like he just vanished into the night.

-

What kind of dream did you have last night?

But the details of your dream were too real to be considered just a dream, the apples were indeed there in the fridge, and the contract paper was on the dining table.

You were reading it when Kim all of sudden asked about it.

"Nothing, it's just a flyer," you waved her off and shoved the paper back into your bag.

The dullness of work suffocated you once again and to top that, Minho's girlfriend celebrated her birthday in the office and invited everyone to have something from the table full of a variety of food she ordered.

If Kim wasn't forcing you to have a slice of cake, you wouldn't have been here and eating the cake in silence, forcing it down your throat with your eyes uneasily looking at her, and then at Minho who stood so close like they were joined at the hip.

She sauntered in your direction and you quickly stuffed your mouth with the cake to avoid answering whatever she was going to ask.

"Seems like you really enjoyed the cake," Minho's girlfriend said.

You nodded with a mouth full of food, "yes, it's delicious," you shortly replied.

She smiled then brushed her hair to the back, intentionally showing something flashy on her hand, a diamond ring.

You knew she was baiting you to ask her the question but you didn't want to give her the satisfaction. You and Kim exchanged a glance, you guessed she noticed it too then looked in two different directions, to anywhere but her hand.

"Minho gave me the best birthday present," she blurted out when none of you asked about it.

You nodded but not saying anything.

"I didn't mean for anyone to know but I think good news should be shared, right?"

You stuffed more cake into your mouth and repeatedly noted, you really didn't want to know anything about that ring.

"We got engaged last night!" She announced, pitching her voice a bit louder for everyone around her to hear.

And suddenly, you had a hard time swallowing your food and it just stuck there in your esophagus.

People started making a ruckus then followed by congratulations from here and there.

You weren't sad or mad at all, you were just a little shaken inside. You forced yourself to swallow it all down inside you, whether it was the food or the bitter, harsh truth that you had to stop this masochistic infatuation.

Everyone's first love is meant to fail anyway.

Minho came to her side a moment later, looking unamused that the news was out. It baffled you how his eyes searched for yours first and not his girlfriend. You looked at each other but nothing came out from both of you.

Minho must be terribly stupid if he didn't know that you have feelings for him. It had been years and all these things you did out of devotion for him were too obvious to be missed.

You believed he knew but he decided to stay oblivious about it.

You got a little disappointed, at him and yourself, disappointed at him for leaving you hanging like this, and at yourself, for not having the courage just to say those three words to him.

"Congratulations!" You said to him, smiling even though you were close to tears.

"Thank you!" He meekly said.

You hated your heart so much for wanting what is not yours, for wanting what is not right, for wanting someone who doesn't want you back, for wanting him.

Your nausea returns when you were in the elevator heading down to the lobby. You felt the queasiness bubbling inside, you quickly covered your mouth and breathed through your nose, calming yourself with eyes uneasily looking at the floor number going down with each level.

You broke into a run when the elevator doors slid open, flung to the nearest bathroom, and pushed any door of the stall to find the one that was available.

You vomited everything out into the toilet bowl which got you retching and gasping for air at once.

"Hey, are you okay?" Kim asked.

You didn't know she was following you until she stood by the door clutching your bag in her hands.

"You dropped your bag," she said, one hand keeping the door of your stall open.

You took a tissue and roughly wiped your mouth with it, "Can you please get me my pills from inside my bag?" You begged.

"Sure, sure!" She fumbled to unzip your bag and shoved her hand inside to take out your medicine.

"Give me two," you said to her, holding out your palm at her.

She complied, shook the container until two pills rolled out then handed them to you.

You dry swallowed them and closed your eyes with your back resting against the partition.

"I have water," she offered, pulling out bottled water from her bag.

She uncapped the bottle before giving it to you.

"Thanks!" You muttered.

"Are you sick?" She asked.

You let out a long shaky breath, "I have this..." you paused to take another sip of water, "acute migraine," you lied.

She checked your body temperature but you seemed fine to her except for how you looked, "you look so pale," she sadly said.

"I just took my meds. I'll be okay," you assured her.

She helped you get up from the floor, smoothing down your skirt and fixing your coat, "you should get a taxi home!"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," you told her since there was no use in refusing her kind suggestion.

-

You sat on the couch waiting for the red-haired whatever man to really come just as he promised last night.

You sat cross-legged and read the contract paper over and over again, still wondering why you played along with him.

"I believe you have read the contract one too many times," he said, appearing out of nowhere behind you.

He walked so gracefully like a model down a fashion runway, poised and cool, his all-black attire supported the whole model's off-duty look.

"How do I know that you're the real devil?" You asked him, never the type to dillydally, especially when it comes to making a deal that involves your life.

"Isn't it obvious enough?" He asked with arms outstretched.

"Or are you hoping that I have horns and red-skinned, scary eyes and claws? Like that?"

You shrugged, "sort of."

He laughed, "my job is to tempt you human and you expect me to do that while looking like a scary creature out of a fantasy book?"

You pursed your lips and shrugged again, "well, that makes sense now," you said, settling the issue with an agreement.

You unfolded the contract paper and pointed to one of the points, "it said that you'll be with me every day. What's that mean?"

"What it literally means. I'll be with you every day, not for the whole 24 hours, of course. I have stuff to do," he said.

"What? Bartending?"

He scoffed.

"That's just ridiculous, I'm not going anywhere," you protested.

"I'm protecting my asset here because what if you had a change of heart?" He sat on the single sofa across from you, crossing his legs and propping a hand under his chin.

"I promise you, I will not," you assured him.

He softly rubbed his lips with his index finger, "are you sure it's not because your unrequited love just got engaged?"

That caught you off guard, "how do you know?"

"I told you, I keep an eye on my asset," he said, now spreading his legs open and propping his elbows on his knees.

You got quiet because you didn’t expect him to know this much about your life.

"So, it's not because of him?"

"No," you strongly denied.

"Let's not take a haste decision," he suggested.

You shook your head, "I think we should sign the contract!” You persisted, took a pen and placed your sign on the bottom corner of the paper.

He laughed when you slid the paper and pen at him, then said, "your turn!"

He burst out laughing, "and you think when you made a pact with the devil signing a paper would do it?"

You glared at him and hissed in irritation, "why didn't you-"

He took the paper and burned it on his palm, turning the paper into ash and smoke.

Your eyes widened in slight shock, it was like a magic trick, except that he wasn't using any trick and no equipment.

"Impressed?" He asked with an eyebrow raised.

You cleared your throat and acted coy about it, "no, but you’ll make a great birthday magician," you told him despite what he just pulled off scared you a little but you tried not to get intimidated by him and repressed it by acting nonchalantly.

He stared deep into your eyes as if he tried to look into your head and see what you were thinking. He didn't look away as he pulled out something from the inner pocket of his black suit jacket.

A locket with a thin gold chain and the pendant isn't bigger than your thumb. He hung it around his hand and showed it to you.

He put it inside his palm after you stared at it long enough.

"Before we make a pact, you haven't decided on your death yet," he reminded you.

"Huh?"

"I promise you your desired death, but the how and when, you haven't told me yet," he clicked his tongue repeatedly, "you have to be specific when making a pact with the devil," he said while squinting his eyes at you.

"Oh?" You exclaimed. He was right, you were rushing everything and you weren't aware of who you are dealing with.

"I want to die peacefully," you said.

"Like drowning?"

"How is that peaceful?" You asked in disbelief.

"Well, it's in the water and it's quiet. Peaceful!"

You winced, "I want to go..." you raked your brain for the right word to say, "quietly."

He scrunched his nose, thinking of an idea.

"I want to die in my sleep," you offered yours before he gave you other strange ways to die.

"Okay, I can do that," he said.

"Next question: when?" He asked, leaning forward at you in curiosity.

"Soon," you shortly replied.

"How soon?"

"Soon enough."

"Tomorrow?"

"Too soon," you snarked.

"A week from now?"

"No."

"One month from now?"

"Too long," you said.

He rolled his eyes in a rather dramatic way and came up with a suggestion real quick, "13 days, that's my final offer!"

You thought it over, two weeks. Would you be able to get your affairs in order in two weeks? It was kind of ideal, it wasn't soon nor late, it was right.

"Deal!"

He got up from the sofa and you unconsciously followed him, getting up from the couch as well. You both took a step closer and stood facing each other in the small living room of your apartment.

"Give me your hand!" He ordered.

You complied and held out your hand at him.

He took a breath to finally grab your hand, wrapping his hand around you and you did the same.

"Are you sure you want to sell your soul to me?" He asked, sounding all business and serious.

You swallowed air then cleared your throat before answering, "yes."

"And in return, you want a peaceful death?"

"Yes."

"13 days from now?"

"Yes," you undoubtedly replied.

A fire alight, setting both your clasped hands in a blazing fire but surprisingly, you didn't feel hot or in pain, it was warm, like your hand wrapped in mittens.

"Oh fuck!" You cursed under your breath, it shocked you but weirdly, you didn't try to take your hand away from him. Your eyes flicked to his face, his eyes turned into shades lighter than the usual dark eyes, gleaming like the eyes of a tiger in the dark.

"In a matter of 13 days, your soul will be mine," he said with eyes that looked right into you, so deep like he talked right into your soul that soon will be his.

You couldn't lie but felt a little frightened inside, you could feel beads of cold sweat form on your back and probably seep into your shirt.

"Congratulations, your life is officially cursed and you'll burn in hell forever!" He said with a smile that was the opposite of what he said to you. Then the fire went off, he let go of his hand to take out the locket again and opened it to reveal what looked like a clock but strangely, there was no number on it, just the needles.

"Places your thumb on it!" He ordered.

"Where?"

He gently led your thumb to the little needle in the center of the locket and pressed your thumb on it.

You yelped when your fingerpad made a contact with it, you pulled your hand away out of reflex to see that you had pricked your finger on the needle of the small clock inside the locket.

The drop of blood started filling the locket, crimson-colored liquid spread inside like a blooming flower then magically, the clock started ticking. The clock ran backward and that was when you realized that it was counting down the time to your death.

"13 days!" He said to you, opening your hand to place the locket on your palm.

You stared at the clock that counted down the time that led to your death.

Tick, tick, tick.

You had been wasting a full 60 seconds just staring at it in a mix of wonder and fear, you have a lot to say yet you were so speechless. You quickly shut the locket and put the chain around your neck, then you felt it, the weight of the pact you just made with the devil.

He helped you by fixing the hair caught in your necklace, "I brought just the right drink for the occasion!" He announced.

He poured wine into your mug in such elegance and didn't spill a drop by quickly spinning the bottle, then wiped it with a napkin.

You clank your mugs together since you don't have any wine glasses in the apartment.

"To cursed life!" He said as you both made a toast.

"To cursed life!" You repeated his words in a low, hesitated voice.

He sipped his wine and made it look like he sipped ambrosia in a goblet instead of wine in a mug.

"Having a second thought?" He asked, catching you holding the locket resting on your chest.

You quickly shook your head, "no."

"What are you going to do on your last few days in the mortal world?" He asked, tracing the rim of his mug with his index finger.

"Get my affairs in order," you replied, clasping your hands around your mug like you were seeking warmth from it.

"You need help?" He asked.

You awkwardly laughed, "what can you do?"

"I can do a little mischief here and there," he said, his finger flying to his lips, playing with the plump of his lower lip.

"That would be against my plan of 'going quietly'," you reminded him.

"What's with 'going quietly'? Why not 'go with a bang'?" He suggested, making a gesture of explosion above his head.

"I just..." you paused because you didn't know the answer. Why you should go quietly?

"I think it's easier that way," you replied with an answer that you weren't confident in.

He nodded and didn't ask further about it. He took another sip and let the silence hang in the air between you and him.

You looked at him, in his usual attire of black outfit and red hair slicked back, pale skin with eyes back to their intense black color.

And you wondered how he ended up here?

"What should I call you?" You suddenly asked him.

"You can call me baby, darling, love," he listed all the pet names he liked to be called with.

"I don't like to be called cutie, but for you, I'll allow it," he finished with a wide smile that made him look more human than he was supposed to be.

You rolled your eyes at him and inaudibly sighed.

"Hyunjin," he quickly said.

"You can call me Hyunjin," he said again while taking another sip of his wine.

You nodded, and that was enough information for the day. That he really is the devil, named Hyunjin and you just made a pact with him. Your eyes shot at the locket and at the reminder of it, you heard the sounds of the seconds being deducted from your life.

Tick, tick, tick.

-

D-13.

"That's a nice necklace!" Kim beamed the moment she noticed the necklace dangling around your neck.

"Oh, this?" You asked her.

"Is it vintage?"

"Uh..." you stalled to find an answer, "yes, I bought it online," you lied.

"That's so nice!" She praised.

"Text me the online shop cause I want one,"

You stifled a nod, "yes, I will," you lied again.

At this point, you didn't care about all the lies you tell people, you are going to burn in hell for eternity anyway.

You were coming back from lunch with Kim when you met Minho in the lobby, he looked like he was waiting for you from the way he got up from his seat the moment he saw you coming through the entrance.

"Hey, want to have coffee together?" He asked you.

Kim realized that he didn't ask for her to be present there and excused herself to go back to the office.

"Okay," you replied.

You had been sitting facing each other and the cups of iced coffee dripping wet from the condensation, you waited for him to say something with your hands clasped under the table.

"What is it, Minho?" You asked him because he kept quiet the whole time you sat there.

"You have something to say to me?"

It seemed like he was unable to decide what he wants to talk about first, you guessed he wanted to talk about yesterday.

"I wasn't planning on proposing to her," he blurted out.

You looked at him rather wide-eyed, didn't expect him to say it like that.

"I was planning on gift her a ring. Not proposing to her," he explained.

"But her parents were present and she got ecstatic the moment she saw it," he paused to catch a breath, "I couldn't just say that I didn't mean to propose to her, she looked so happy. I-"

"Minho, I'm not asking," you reminded him.

His face gradually turned sour, "I just thought that maybe I need to explain-"

"Whatever you do or did or done with your girlfriend is none of my business," you quickly told him, settling the matter before he pried more than you allowed him to.

Your words seemed to surprise him and he was quiet for a while, "I don't want things to change between us," he said.

You badly wanted to ask him what exactly you two have. What you are to him? And what he takes you for?

"What are you talking about? We'll always be good friends," you remarked with a sweet smile.

A smile bloomed on his face, "yeah, of course, we'll always be good friends, right?"

You nodded even though he clearly drew the invisible line that you shouldn't cross.

He took a long sip of his coffee and gasped in satisfaction, "I'm writing a special article," he said.

"Yeah?"

He nodded, "yes, it's for the spring special-themed article," he replied.

You stirred your iced coffee with the straw, making the ice cubes clink against the glass.

"That's great, Minho!" You complimented him without looking at him.

"Can you help me with it?" He asked.

"I like it when we work together," he added.

You stirred and stirred, watched as the coffee made a swirl inside your glass.

"Please?"

You stopped stirring when the coffee was about to slosh out of the glass, "sure, I'd love to," you said.

There you go, making the same mistake over and over again, despite knowing that you would only get pain in return.

-

You were brushing your teeth when you saw his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

You got startled that you spat onto the sink, "coming back from whispering evil deeds into people?" You sneered at him then washed your mouth with running water.

He folded his hands and leaned against the door of your bathroom, "yes, and I should've told you to throw your iced coffee at him," he sneered back.

You got quiet, he wasn't only spying on your life but also knew what happened between you and the people around you.

You got on your bed and covered your body up to your chest with the duvet.

"That's it for the day?" He asked you.

"I'm going quietly," you reminded him with your back facing him.

He softly chuckled, "Goodnight!"

You didn't reply but the lingering silence got you curious if he was still there watching you sleep. You turned on your bed but he was already gone.

-

D-12

You haven't gotten to your desk yet when you got called to the editor's office, papers flying in your direction the moment you got in.

"You called this a piece of writing?" He asked you, the veins on his neck popped and strained in rage.

You opened your mouth to speak but he cut off you again with his shout, "do it all over again!"

You picked up the paper from the floor and took it with you back to the desk, you saw that this wasn't even your writing, it was someone else's but he had done it a handful of times, which means he wanted you to fix the writing and rewrite it again.

"Why does he always blame you for the mistakes others did?" Kim nagged with her head snapped at the editor's office.

You shrugged.

"Why didn't you say something?" She said with exasperation.

"You know it's useless," you responded while stacking the paper by its order.

She heavily sighed but didn't say anything back because she also knew that the editor is a really stubborn piece of work.

You spaced out while clutching your locket on your chest, feeling the ticking with every breath you took.

You could feel every second without needing to open the locket.

Tick, tick, tick.

"I knew that you'll be here," Minho said as he found you waiting for the coffee machine done making the coffee.

You turned on your heels, "yes, hi," you nervously answered.

"Have you got your coffee yet? I want to show you something," he said.

You nodded and collected your mug filled with freshly made coffee, "yes."

He took you to his desk and showed you the article he was writing for the spring-themed article, you scanned the words but the lines kept slipping off your mind, unable to focus.

"Yes, it's good," you said to him.

"Are you sure?"

"Uhm..." you hummed in confusion, your hand flew to your temple but nothing came to mind.

"I'm sorry, I can't seem to focus," you gave up trying and apologized.

He smiled at you, "it's okay, we can work on it some other time," he assured you.

You smiled back at him and took your mug with you, "sorry," you muttered.

"Let's have lunch together!" He suggested again, stopping you on your track.

"I can't. I have a doctor's appointment," you told him and it felt good on rejecting him without having to lie.

"Oh? Okay," he replied.

You didn't have a doctor's appointment but the doctor kept on calling you to come to the hospital, probably his last endeavor to convince you to get treatment.

And you were right, "I have thought it over like you asked and my decision is final, I will not get treatments," you sternly told him.

He sighed in defeat, pulled his drawer open, and placed a brochure right in front of you.

"Will you at least consider coming to this?" He asked.

You could tell that the brochure was a support group for cancer patients and survivors. It was a hard pass but to put an ease on the doctor's mind, you smiled and said, "maybe I will," you answered.

You were reading a children's book for you to review when he came, reading the title of the book out loud, "Chase the end of the rainbow," he recited, then chuckled.

"There is literally nothing at the end of the rainbow," he sneered then plopped down on the single sofa.

"It's just rain and puddles," he added then put his long legs on the coffee table.

You lowered the book enough to look at him, "did you make anyone cry today?" You playfully asked.

"I broke the ice cream machine again," he bragged, "I think yes, a few people cried."

"How fun!" You exclaimed with fake enthusiasm then flipped the page of the book.

He watched you reading the book, then got curious about it, he sat next to you and leaned so close to you so he could read it too.

You could smell the faint of his natural scent, of something strong, a bit musk and smokey. You turned your head just enough to see him, the side profile of his perfectly sculpted face and its facial features that complement each other.

He is so beautiful, it didn't make sense to you.

You shut the book and gave it to him, "you can read it," you said to him then went to your bedroom.

"Goodnight!" He shouted to you before you shut your bedroom door.

-

D-11

"Hey, you haven't sent me the name of the shop for that beautiful necklace," Kim said as she placed a cup of iced coffee on your desk.

You faked an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, I forgot," you muttered.

"Thanks for the coffee!" You added and took a sip.

Kim leaned at your computer screen to read the article you were writing and read it loud enough for both of you, she sighed when she came to the end of the paragraph.

"Sometimes I wonder why you're stuck here with me," she mumbled with a hand on her waist.

"You're literally wasting your talent here," she said with a hand on your shoulder.

You could only smile at her but you were sure that a new job wouldn't make a difference anyway. The tumor would still be there in your brain and you still be as miserable as you were here so what's the point?

You were waiting for the elevator to arrive when Minho took your hand and grinned when you looked at him.

"Have lunch with me!" He said while shaking your hand.

You turned your head at Kim, "I'm going with Kim," you said.

Minho looked at her, "mind if I borrow her for today?" He sweetly asked.

Kim uneasily glanced at you and caught the signals you threw at her with your eyes, but she said the opposite thing, "sure."

Minho always looked more relaxed when her girlfriend isn't around, she was having a meeting outside of the office and that was also why he bravely took you out for a lunch.

"You don't like it?" He asked.

"I'm not that hungry," you replied. You've been eating your food little by little. It comes as no surprise that losing your appetite is also a side effect of dying.

He looked at you with his head slightly tipped to the side, "you look a little pale," he said.

You took a sip of water, "I've been having trouble sleeping," you said but didn't tell him it was because of the migraine that kept you awake.

He reached for your face and pressed the back of his hand, checking your temperature, "you're a bit warm," he said.

You put his hand away from your face and gently put it down on the table, "I'm okay. I'm alright," you assured him.

He doubted you but nodded, continued eating his food, and shifted the conversation elsewhere.

"Remember the second year of college? That time we got on the back of the pick-up truck with the stage props, it was raining and we were both sick with flu the next day," he was talking with a smile on his face like the memory was so vivid to him.

Yes, those days were the happiest because it was so much simpler back then. It was just you and him stressing over college and nothing else. There was little responsibility, no articles to write, there was no girlfriend who keeps him on a leash and you didn't know that there was a tumor growing in your brain.

"You were sick but you insisted on taking care of me," he suddenly got all serious.

You gripped the fork in your hand tighter because why did he take you on an unwanted trip down memory lane? Shouldn't he know that those memories would only be nothing more than just memories? Soon he'd be forgetting all about it as he makes new ones with his dear fiancé.

"I'm finished," you said, putting down your cutlery and sliding the plate aside.

"I'll take care of the bill!" You announced because you needed to be as far away as possible from him.

He grabbed you by the elbow, "I'll do it!"

"No, you finish your meal! I have to go to the restroom anyway," you said with a thin smile and put his hand away.

On the way back to the office, Minho talked about the article he was writing but your mind was elsewhere, drifting here and there.

"So, what do you think?" Minho asked.

"Mmh?"

He cracked a laugh, "you weren't listening," he meekly said.

You shoved your hands into your coat pockets, "I'm sorry."

"Have a lot in your head?"

Aside from the tumor? You asked in your head.

"Not really," you answered.

He pushed the door open and held it open for you.

"Shouldn't you have a lot in your head?" You asked back.

He scanned his ID card before entering the building, "what do you mean?"

"You know with the engagement and everything," you casually said.

You didn't mean to but he was the one who started talking about those days when in reality, those days are over and he should be worrying about the accidental engagement.

Minho got quiet but strangely, you didn't feel bad at all. The sound of the elevator dinging open saved Minho from the question and you both got into the elevator.

Right before the doors slid shut, you caught a red-haired man smiling at you from afar, so sinister like a Chesire cat.

Out of reflex, you clutched the locket on your necklace and felt the needles counting down the seconds of your life.

Tick, tick, tick.

"You have 11... uh no wait, 10 days more to live and your plan is to finish your favorite TV series," Hyunjin said as he plopped down on the sofa next to you and took a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

"Did you happen to whisper any evil things into my ear?"

His eyebrows knitted together, "where?"

"At the office."

"When?"

"A little after lunch."

He shook his head, "not sure," he vaguely answered and filled his mouth full of popcorn.

You looked at him and observed him, trying to figure him out.

He grabbed your chin, then turned your head to face the TV.

"If you're the devil that means you've been to hell?" You asked out of the blue.

"You make it sound like going to hell is a hospital visit," he said and slumped on the sofa.

"So?"

"I came from hell."

"You were born there?"

He shrugged and took another handful of popcorn.

"Is it really that hot?" You asked out of pure curiosity and did everyone a favor for asking it.

"You'll find out soon," he shortly replied.

You pouted but despite the disappointing answers, your curiosity remained the same.

"Do you mingle with humans?"

He leered at you, "mingle?"

"You know, have a relationship with human..." your words trailed off, again, this was out of pure curiosity.

"Like us?" he pointed to both you and him.

You snorted, "what we have is a business deal."

"Like you and Minho then?" He teased.

You grimaced, "pfft... I hope not."

He chuckled and tugged a popcorn between his teeth, "why are you so curious?"

You put the bowl of popcorn onto his lap so hard sending some of it falling onto the floor, "You know everything about my life but I don't know anything about you and I'm going to die in 10 days, so please, entertain this dying lady," you complained.

He gently placed a hand on your elbow and it felt hot but bearable, "no need to be that hopeless," he playfully said.

You glared at him.

"The answer is yes," he finally admitted.

That intrigued you, so he did mingle with humans and your focus next was to figure out what kind of relationship he's into.

"How?"

"How?"

You nodded.

"I don't think there are that many differences in how I have sex with how humans have sex," he casually said.

"Oh?" His answer took you aback.

"Oh!" You said again when it finally registered to you. So, it was all just physical to him. You didn't know why you expect more in the first place?

"What? You think I want to be romantically involved with the mortals?" He asked with a condescending smirk.

The way he said 'mortals' made it sound like humans are pathetic creatures just like how humans think of worms.

"Who knows?" You said with a shrug but deep down, you wished that he got karma for saying that.

He sighed and took the remote, replaying the episode from the beginning.

"Hey, I was watching that!" You said and tried to snatch the remote back from him.

"Be honest, you didn't watch any of it because you kept asking me questions," he said and hid the remote behind his back.

"How mature of you!" You sneered.

He stuck his tongue out at you in response.

You shook your head in disbelief that this entity sitting next to you is the devil and he came from hell.

-

D-10

You've been busy trying to finish an article since this afternoon and it seemed like you have to work overtime.

As soon as you finished and submitted it, your editor gave you another one to rewrite.

When you came back to your desk, Minho was there sitting on your desk and playing with your stress ball.

"Why are you here?" You asked and you didn't mean to be brash. It was just that everyone in the office already left and you were stuck there to pick up after someone's mess

If Minho wanted to remember the good old days with you, he should know that this wasn't the right time for it.

"I saw that your bag and coat are still here," he answered and got off your desk.

"I'm busy. I have to finish another article today," you simply said and hoping that he'd just leave you alone.

"Do you need help?"

"I'll handle it myself," you refused with a thin smile.

"Sure. I'm sure you can handle it well," he said but he seemed rather disappointed by the answer.

He smacked his lips together then he put a small paper bag on your desk, "this is for you!"

He slid the paper bag until it was right in front of you, "you said you have trouble sleeping so I bought you some chamomile tea and I think there are other kinds of tea too inside—"

He always does this, putting you on a pedestal, raising your hope and when you thought you stacked your hope high enough to reach him, he knocked it all down.

Over and over and over again and the end is always the same, he left you alone to pick up the pieces.

"You don't like it?" He asked since you got really quiet.

"I like it, thanks. But just stop," you replied and pushed the paper bag back to him.

"I bought it for you," he said and pushed it back to you.

You looked at him right in the eyes, "no. I want you to stop doing anything nice!" You enunciated every word so he heard you loud and clear.

He looked rather confused by what you said and cracked a laugh, "Why?"

"I just need you to stop being nice to me unless you're going to be with me," you dared to hold eye contact with him.

He cracked another laugh, probably thinking you were playing with him.

"You think I'm being funny?"

His laugh died down and his face turned serious.

"See? You can't keep being nice to me and I can't keep pretending that this is something that it's not!" You told him.

Since half of it already spilled out of your mouth, the rest would have to come out as well.

"We've been friends for years. You know me, you know who I am," your voice quivering because it hurts letting these words out of your chest, "you either want to be with me or not."

Minho opened his mouth to speak but close it again, when he managed to say something, he was stammering, "we're friends and I don't want to make it complicated—"

How dare he said all that when he's the one who had been playing with your feelings and made things complicated!

"Bullshit!" You cut him off midsentence, "it's just bullshit!"

It seemed like you just spat acid at him that he stood there with his feet nailed to the floor.

"Where is this coming from?" He probably couldn't believe that his friend who's always said yes to everything he said holding this much anger inside of her.

"From the place I've been hiding from you for about three years," it was painful to admit how miserable you were pining for him for the last three years.

"Three years because I haven't wanted to seem demanding and I haven't wanted to seem needy or pathetic or… whatever!"

The tears rolled down your cheeks and you wiped them with your knuckle, "so, I haven't asked you."

You stared into his eyes again, wide and surprised at your confession.

"But I..." the tears caught in your throat the more you tried to fight them, "I have to. I mean..."

Despite having an inkling of what his answer would be, you gave him another chance by asking him the only question he needed to answer once and for all.

"Do you want to be with me?"

From the silence that Minho let it went on too long, you knew what the answer is. It was exactly like you had predicted and he didn't need to say it out loud, you knew.

Tears streamed down your face and you looked down at your lap, hiding your sadness from him.

You quickly recovered, wiping your wet cheeks with the back of your hand, and looked at him again.

At that moment, you decided that it was time to put an end to this.

"I can't do this anymore, Minho."

You left him and went someplace to cry by yourself, consoled yourself with the fact that you can start letting him go. Years of loving him only brought you tears and pain.

Minho left the paper bag on your desk and you shoved it inside your drawer and started working on the second article before it got really late.

"Before you go home, can you do another one?" Your editor asked as you've just submitted the article.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sir!"

His forehead creased, unamused by your answer, "what are you talking about?"

As you worked by yourself at your desk while crying from breaking up with someone who's not even your boyfriend, Kim's words replayed in the back of your head. She spoke the truth that day, that you've been wasting your talent here and no one even had an ounce of respect for you in there.

And you came to a decision to, "I quit," you said and handed him the freshly printed resignation letter.

"Thank you for these past..." you paused to think of a word to describe your experience of working in this office and none came to mind except negative words.

"...wonderful years, sir!" You decided to end it with a nice note because you weren't the same with them but you didn't wait for his approval.

You let out a big sigh when you got out of his office, packed your things, and left.

You used to think that losing a job is a frightening thing but after you did it, it wasn't that bad at all. The world is still spinning and the sky isn't falling down on you. If anything, you have fewer things to worry about.

You sat on the balcony with a blanket wrapped around you, looking out at the view and the night sky.

Funny that you missed having Hyunjin around when all he does is annoy you.

This empty space only made you think of what happened that day, with you and Minho, and how things ended.

Maybe you were selfish for wanting him but he has no right to toy with your feelings, maybe you did ruin years of friendship but it felt so right.

Yet you were crying as you curled up on the bed and the tears seeped into your pillow.

A part of you was glad that Hyunjin wasn't there. You could imagine him making fun of you for looking so miserable on your last days on earth.

-

D-9

You forgot that you're unemployed, you woke up, showered, and cooked breakfast then when it hits you that you didn't have to go to work, you have no idea what to do next.

You might be dying but how could you forget being a normal person?

You ended up watching TV and ate the endless supply of tangerines your mom secretly put in your fridge. You napped and ordered lunch, watched some more TV, read some news on the internet, ate some more tangerines, and tried to cook yourself dinner.

You gave up when you couldn't find anything in your fridge. Your mom is right, it was an alarming thing to see an empty fridge.

"How do you like your unemployment?" Hyunjin appeared when you closed the fridge.

You sighed and took your phone, scrolling down the list of restaurants to order your dinner. "Fantastic!" You replied but with a deadpan.

He leaned on the kitchen island and looked at your phone screen, "Let's have some meat for dinner!"

You tipped your phone and got it out of his sight, continued scrolling.

When the food came, you spread them on the table in the living room and sat on the floor. You treated yourself to a big dinner since it was your first day of unemployment. From the amount of food you ordered, they put in three pairs of chopsticks and Hyunjin successfully secured a pair.

"You can't finish all this food by yourself," he said with squinted eyes then tore open the paper wrapper with his teeth.

You ignored him and started opening the lids, sending the mouth-watering smell wafting around the room. You slapped Hyunjin's hand as he went straight for the sliced meat.

You hissed, reminding him who had the right to eat it first since you bought it and doing so with a smirk on your face while he waited for you to finish, tugging the end of the chopsticks between his teeth.

"Can I have it now?" He asked.

Something about him reminded you of that naughty kid you knew in kindergarten, who liked to scare you by holding a caterpillar close to your face with a stick. He's annoying but in the most childish way and that was strange when you remembered that he came from hell.

"You were so cool yesterday," he said with a mouth full of rice but managed to put on a proud grin at you.

You continued eating but listened intently to what he said with stuffed cheeks.

"Breaking up with Minho," he continued.

"Oh wait, is it called breaking up even though you're not dating?"

You stabbed a piece of omelet with your chopsticks and ate it in one bite.

"I think you're the coolest when you..." he put down his chopstick and demonstrated how you slammed the resignation letter on your boss's desk.

"That's so badass!" He added in awe.

You couldn't remember the last time someone complimented you and how nice it feels, you didn't want to show him that so you suppressed your laugh by stuffing your mouth with more food.

"But winter isn't really a good time to quit your job you know," he continued, "I heard you spend more money during the winter because of gas, electricity..."

You blocked his chopsticks from taking more food and put them away, glaring at him.

He grinned at you with apologetic eyes, "I mean... why don't you get another job?"

"Why should I?" You simply asked.

He shrugged, "you have that thing called what... ambition or something like that."

"I'm not that ambitious," you said and it was true, you have enough from living day to day.

"If a painter dreams of having their paintings hung in the Louvre then a writer like you must have dreamed of seeing your writing somewhere, right?" He asked again.

It took you back to when you were in college and thinking of getting a job as a writer. You did the internship intending to fill in your resume and what happened years after that, let's say you were foolish enough for following a man and not your dream. You do have one and it is to write for the Daily K newspaper.

"I do," you answered.

He pointed his chopsticks at you, "Why don't you try to apply for a job there?"

You took a sip of water and thought why do you bother trying, it's a shot in the dark.

"I only have to live for a few more days anyway," you answered with a shrug.

"That's the point! You only have a few more days to live so you have nothing to lose, right?" He was talking but his eyes were looking at the last piece of meat and he knew that you noticed.

When you thought about it again then yes, you have nothing to lose. You can apply for a job and whether you got accepted or not, it wouldn't hurt since you'll be leaving the world forever.

You pushed the plate with the last piece of meat at him.

A smile rose on his face with his eyes formed two crescent moons.

How long was it since the last time you updated your resume? It was a long time ago that you couldn't remember it and you've been staring at your laptop screen, didn't know what to do with it.

"Shouldn't you be like... write something about yourself?" Hyunjin said, lying on the sofa and flicking the channels on the TV while you sat on the carpeted floor.

"Yeah sure, my bleak life story would make them hire me," you sneered and propped a hand under your chin, still trying to come up with something to write.

"Maybe all you need is a shot of courage!" Hyunjin said.

You looked over your shoulder but he was no longer on the sofa, he was there in the kitchen holding a bottle of tequila at you.

"No thanks!" You turned down his idea straight away and looked back at your laptop, still having no idea what to write. "Where did you find it though?"

He uncapped the bottle, "it was hidden under the sink," he said and poured himself a shot of tequila.

Ah, you remembered that's where you hide your alcohol just in case your mom is coming unannounced and doing an inspection around your place.

He hissed after taking a shot and looked at you, "you sure you don't want it?"

"Nah."

"To relax the nerves?" He persuaded you once more and shook the bottle at you, his red hair looking like a swaying flame under the fluorescent light.

It was really tempting and you really did need a shot of courage, "I can't do this sober anyway," you finally caved in.

Hyunjin brought the bottle and two shot glasses to the living room with a grin on his face. He initiated a toast, raising his shot glass in the air, and said, "To cursed life!"

You clank your drink with his and meekly repeated his words, "To cursed life!"

You were too confident in yourself and could handle the alcohol well since you had a big dinner earlier. Somehow, your brain worked after a few shots and your fingers started typing nonstop. When you were done, you read it out loud to Hyunjin and asked for his opinions.

"Booooooring!" He booed, stacking his hands together and putting his chin on top.

"You should write it how you would write an article for them," he said, his plush lips red and puckered.

"Can you even get drunk?"

He closed his eyes, then grinned, "No."

You scoffed and started writing again while Hyunjin refilled both of your glasses with more alcohol. He really is the goddamn devil that you couldn't keep track of how many shots you have taken. It was blurry from there, your fingers didn't feel like they were typing but you saw how the page slowly filled with words.

You remembered reading it to him after and he laughed. You didn't know what was so funny about all this but you laughed to the point that you almost spit your drink. You both huddled in front of your laptop together and drank more tequila straight from the bottle in turns.

"This is it!" He said.

"I don't know. This sounds... so..."

"Out of this world?"

You laughed.

"Send it!"

You moved the cursor to the send button.

Hyunjin brought his mouth close to your ear, "hit the send button!"

You shivered, "oh, the devil's whisper!"

"Hit it!" He said right into your ear, a little louder.

You pushed him away while giggling and covered your ears, "okay, okay!"

You squinted your eyes with your finger only an inch away from clicking, sending in your resume through an email.

When you opened your eyes, there was a pop-up notification that the email has been sent.

"Oh fuck!" You sighed and lay yourself down on the carpeted floor.

Hyunjin lay there next to you, "see? It's not that hard!"

You stared at the ceiling with your eyes started drooping, "I'm so tired."

"You should go to bed it's cold in here," Hyunjin nudged your shoulder with his.

But it felt comfortable and you could barely keep your eyes open anymore.

"I'm sleepy," you whined.

"It's cold!" He grumbled.

Without opening your eyes, you grabbed his arm and held it close. His body heat was enough to keep you warm.

"It's warm now," you slurred and started to slowly drift into sleep.

-

D-8

You woke up with a cold sweat and fumble to get off the bed, then reality hits you like a bucket of cold water.

"Fuck, I keep forgetting that I'm unemployed," you groaned and went back to sleep.

You woke up after a few more hours of sleep and ordered lunch right away. Ignoring the mess from last night, an empty bottle of tequila, the dirty dishes on the table, and your laptop died from running out of battery.

Your head was pounding but you knew that it was not the usual migraine, it was the hangover.

You took a shower next, trying to get rid of the alcohol stinks, and washed the hangover away.

You felt a little better in the afternoon but your stomach still felt a little sick. You opened the fridge to only groan at how empty it was except for the bottles of water and a half box of tangerines.

You rummaged through the box of your office stuff and found the paper bag Minho gave to you that day. There were boxes of different kinds of teas inside with the name of the tea and what it's good for written on each box.

Putting your pride aside and making yourself a cup of chamomile tea, the smell of it instantly relaxed you.

"Make a cup for me too!" Hyunjin said, lying on the sofa with his hands under his head.

"Make one yourself!" You said and took a small sip of your tea.

"I feel like dying here!" He whined while lying sideways on the sofa like he was posing for a photoshoot.

"No offense," he quickly added at the end of the sentence.

You took another sip and felt better already, or you suggested to your brain that it was working on you.

"None taken!" You plainly answered.

He got up from the sofa and stretched out his long arms, his red hair messy on the back, "what's for dinner?"

That reminded you to start looking at restaurant menus, went to your bedroom to get your phone, and saw two missed calls from Kim.

You were about to hit a call back when the doorbell rang.

"Is that the food?" Hyunjin asked from the living room.

You got out of the bedroom while holding your phone, "I haven't ordered yet," you answered.

You came to the door and opened it, got stunned at the person behind it.

He was the last person you wanted to see but there he was, standing in front of you, Minho.

"Can I come in?" He asked with a smile.

You let him in because it's basic etiquette, you wanted to be polite, nothing more than that.

Hyunjin was already gone when you got back inside but Minho saw the paper bag he gave you on the kitchen island.

"You were having tea?" He asked.

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction that you cherished the things he gifted for you but it was too late to hide it. You decided to play coy, "you want one?"

"Yes, please!"

You went behind the kitchen island and made him a cup of tea, doing it to ignore looking him in the eyes because you knew what those eyes can do to you.

You kept doing it when you served the steaming hot cup of tea to him.

"Thank you," he muttered but didn't take a seat on the chair.

You stood there next to the dining table, suddenly feeling like you were the one visiting his house and not the other way around.

"You are eventually going to look at me, aren't you?" He asked.

So he noticed that you've been trying to avoid them, you took a deep breath to finally look him in the eyes. There was a part of you that was glad of seeing him again and you hated yourself for it.

"I came here because I had to see you," he began, taking out the hands that has been deep inside his jeans pockets.

"Had to," he emphasized.

And that part has taken a bigger part of you the longer you stared into his eyes.

"I just don't understand this," you said.

You put your hand on the table for support as you felt like you were about to crumble down all over again.

"I mean... I was right there for years, remember?"

Even the soothing smell of the tea didn't work on relaxing you anymore.

"'This was a mistake' that's what you said to me once, that we weren't right for each other."

He looked a bit perplexed, lost in your words. "Well, I don't remember that," he innocently said.

Unlike you, he wouldn't remember saying that but you remembered how and when he said it, how those three words stuck with you ever since.

He took a step closer and placed a hand on yours, "I just know that I hated when you're gone."

He held your gaze before continuing to talk, "I kept looking at your desk at work and it was driving me crazy that I wasn't hearing from you."

He puts his forehead on yours and sighed in relief as he has just found a haven, "I don't want to lose you."

You were on the verge of plunging into another heartbreak but at the same time, couldn't say no to the thrill, "Oh... Minho," you said so hopelessly. And you hated yourself for letting him get to you, holding you by your neck, and winning your heart all over again.

"Come here," he held your face in your hands and leaned in, putting his lips on you, tearing down your guard like it was nothing but a mere warning sign.

Here you were, letting him take you to your bed and kiss all of your doubts away.

The shape of his body fits you perfectly as he lay there next to you and held you close, if this was a mistake then why it feels so right?

You pulled away to catch a breath and looked at him again to confirm that you weren't imagining it.

"I'm taking a long break at the end of the year," he said.

His hand splayed on your back with his thumb teasing the hem of your t-shirt, "I was thinking we can go on a trip together," he came up with the plan out of the blue.

"Somewhere warm with good food. Somewhere where I can see you wearing that red swimsuit I gave you," he added and pecked your lips. He once gave you a pair of swimsuits on your birthday since you planned on taking a summer vacation but the trip was canceled because your father got sick.

"What do you think?" He asked.

The invite came too suddenly and the end of the year was a month away, you only have a week in your life but sure, a trip with him, anywhere it is would be nice.

"It sounds great," you replied.

He puts a strand of hair away from your face before placing a gentle kiss.

"Do you mean that? I mean, are you free to do that?" You asked because you still couldn't process this, him coming and he made out with you on your bed, then asking you to come on a trip with him.

"Well, I came here to see you. I'm here now," he said and pecked your lips again.

You got a little uneasy from his vague answer and jerked your head back, "that didn't exactly answer my question."

You propped your elbow against the mattress and put a space between you and him, "does this mean you're not engaged anymore? I mean, you come here to tell me that, right?"

Minho sighed with his eyes closed and placed a hand on your shoulder, "I wish you could just accept knowing how confused I am about all this."

You shrugged his hand off your shoulder, "so you are still engaged?"

He took a second, "yes, but—"

"Oh my God!" You groaned and couldn't be faster to get off the bed, you stumbled to stand on your feet.

Minho fumbled to get up as well and sat on the edge of the bed.

"You were right about us... this was a mistake," you meekly said.

"You didn't mean that," he refused to believe you said that.

You raked your hair and tried to gather your thoughts, "I'm about three years late in telling you this but Minho, you broke my heart so many times."

You held yourself back from snapping at him by taking a deep breath, "and you acted like somehow it was my fault, my misunderstanding, and I was too in love with you to ever be mad at you. So I just punished myself for years!"

"No, I didn't—"

You didn't want to give him a chance to interrupt you so you kept going, "then you came here and told me that you don't want to lose me whilst you're still engaged to someone," you spat the fact right at his face.

It had been like that for years but that was the first time that everything became clear to you.

"It's over, Minho," you said.

He grabbed your hands and opened his mouth to speak.

You shook your head and let go of his hands, "I'm done being in love with you."

You went out of the bedroom and took his coat from the sofa, then walked to the threshold knowing that he'll follow you there.

"What's going into you?" Minho asked and it was his usual card trick that is playing the victim again.

"A realization that I've got a life to start living and you're not going to be in it, that's what got into me," you answered, handed him his coat, and opened the door for him.

He took a long, hard look at you with eyes that always work to soften your edges but it seemed like the magic has worn off.

You showed his way out with your hand and stared at him with hatred in your eyes.

There was an intense staring contest happening for a while until he reluctantly took his coat and stepped out of the door, turning around to see you for one last time.

Before he could say anything, you got ahead of him and said, "Goodbye!"

You shut the door right in his face, walked back to the living room, and lay down on the sofa. You planted your face into a cushion then screamed at the top of your lungs. You kept doing it until you ran out of breath and your throat burned dry.

"Fucking asshole," you cursed when you got up from the sofa, then started pacing around the house trying to burn the rage inside you.

"Shit! Fucking asshole! What a fucking jerk! Fuck! Argh!!!" You took the cushion and started squeezing it until it turned misshapen.

"Maybe you should make a new cup of tea!" Hyunjin said from the kitchen, leaning against the counter and sipping his tea.

"That goddamn tea!" You grumbled through your gritted teeth and shoved the tea back into the paper bag, throwing the whole thing into the trash bin.

"You can have mine then!" He offered.

You couldn't stay still, you kept pacing around with your hands balled into fists and ready to throw a punch if you have to, "argh... I have to—"

You have so much rage inside you but didn't know how to let it out, "I want to break things and scream and punch something without worrying my neighbors."

"Or maybe sit down and have a glass of water," Hyunjin suggested but doing it so calmly because he enjoyed the sight.

"I swear if I don't get it out, I'm going to fucking explode," you angrily told him with clenched jaws.

You got your coat and headed out of the door, walking aimlessly while carrying your rage inside your chest.

You ended up in a batting cage, you just wanted to tire yourself out with physical stuff and hope the rage would die down eventually.

You don't know how to play baseball but you kept batting the ball so hard and loud that it made a ringing sound and when the pitching machine stopped.

You turned at Hyunjin, "again!" You said, signaling him to put the coin into the machine.

You kept playing until there was no energy left in you and your palms were blistering from gripping the bat so hard and shaking since you didn't have dinner yet.

"Here!" Hyunjin said, handing you cold cans of beer.

You took them and held them in your hands to soothe the blisters, sighing at how good they felt.

Hyunjin opened a can for himself and started drinking, "feel better now?"

The exhaustion did work to make you forget that you were mad but it was still there, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach.

You opened a can in your hands and took a long gulp, gasping when you swallowed it all down.

"You know, he's the first and the only person I have had sex with," you blurted out.

You stared at the night sky and there was no stars or moon, only the vast darkness.

"And that's when he said it..."

You turned at Hyunjin and his red hair looking like cotton candy under the bright neon lights.

"This was a mistake," you enunciated the words one by one with a feeling like someone squeezed your heart dry when you said it.

"Since then I kept asking myself. Was it the sex? Was I not attractive enough? Was it my body? Was it me?" you rubbed your temple and sniffled, either from the cold or you were about to cry.

"A girl like me just couldn't forget such words," you said and took a small sip of your beer, you wiped the drop that escaped the corner of your mouth.

"I told him about it earlier and he said he couldn't remember saying that to me," you said in disbelief with creases on your forehead.

Tears just rolled down your cheeks like a bursting dam and you couldn't fight them but let them flood.

"How could I love such a man for three goddamn years?" You croaked and rested your forehead on Hyunjin's shoulder, closing your eyes and crying.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” you cursed yourself with a lot of regrets woven in your words.

Hyunjin put his arm around you and pulled you closer, letting you bury your head in his chest, helping you hide your sadness from the world. He kept quiet and calmly drank his beer, listening to your crying while sitting together on a bench outside a convenience store.

Your tears seeped into his clothes but in return, you felt the warmth of his embrace.

He let out a long sigh and said, "Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur."

He spoke Latin like he was a native and it sounded so beautiful coming out of his mouth, not to mention his gorgeous lips that are as red as his hair.

"Even God finds it hard to love and be wise at the same time," he translated it.

It was surprising that it was coming from him, the last person you ever wanted to hear words of comfort from yet here he was, resting his head against yours and kept shielding you from the cold, the heartbreak, and the world. 

-

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[seungminstaehyun]

mine | h.hj series

pairing: hyunjin x reader

genre: angst, smut, fwb, slow burn, idol!au

summary: As a successful kpop idol, you never have time for romance or relationships. After getting your heart broken by men in the industry, you vow to never allow yourself to get hurt again. You try your best to avoid commitment but soon find yourself struggling to avoid catching feelings when you meet Hyunjin.

status: complete

Wattpad Link

a/n: first fic, don’t really know what I’m doing but hope you enjoy! please leave feedback! as I said I really dunno what I’m doing here but I tried my best :’)

Ch. 1 - studio session

Ch. 2 - wrong cup

Ch. 3 - partners

Ch. 4 - dance practice

Ch. 5 - celebrate

Ch. 6 - let’s go

Ch. 7 - friends

Ch. 8 - benefits

Ch. 9 - easy

⇢ special chapter - hyunjin’s pov

Ch. 10 - crybaby

Ch. 11 - not me

Ch. 12 - promise

Ch. 13 - missed this

Ch. 14 - all yours

Ch. 15 - only you

Ch. 16 - mine (final)

[seungminstaehyun]

Love Letters to Who

Hyunjin x Female reader

Word count: 4.9k

Synopsis: Your 21st birthday you were gifted a mysterious journal. If you thought you were shocked when you saw a reply to your first entry from someone, you just about shit when you saw words appearing on the page out of nowhere, right in front of your eyes! Who was owner of those words? Who was H.H?

A/N: 18+ ONLY! Here's our Hyunjinnie's! Only one more left! But don't fret! I've gotten a lot of really great requests while I've been working on this series and still plan to do a part 2 to Everything in it's Place so there is plenty more to come! Thank you everyone who has followed along! If you enjoy this part please give it a reblog, like, comment, jump in my an ask box, I love hearing from you guys! Thank you again! As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, mentions of controlling and toxic behavior/relationship, oral (m&f receiving), cum eating, unprotected piv sex (please use protection), coming inside. I'm pretty sure that's it. The soulmate series has been fairly tame smut wise I feel like but if I missed something, please let me know and I'll add it immediately!

It had been a long day but a great one. It was your twenty-first birthday and your family and friends had been over all day celebrating with you. Finger food, cake, presents, the whole nine yards. All of your friends were gone now, your dad had left and your mom stayed over a bit to help you clean up. Just before she left she walked past the table that all your presents had been on and stopped. 

“Oh hey! You missed one!” She grabbed the small gift and handed it to you. You looked for a tag with a name but there was none. You shrugged and ripped it open to find a beautiful leather-bound journal. In the corner there were small gold letters, your initials and H.H. You weren’t sure what that meant but it was a wonderful gift, you loved to journal. Your mom left and you got washed up, in pajamas and in bed. You scrolled around on your phone and made a post thanking everyone for coming and for your gifts. 

‘Oh and to whomever got me the journal, it had no name but thank you so much!’ Maybe whoever got it for you will comment. You put your phone on the charger and pulled out the new journal and a fresh pen. You opened it to the first page and wrote the date. 

‘Today was my twenty-first birthday. It was wonderful. My friends and family were here and I’m very thankful for all of my gifts. It was almost perfect. It would be nice to have someone to share my evening with. To curl up in bed, laugh and talk, make love, fall asleep holding each other. I guess for now, for me, it’s not meant to be. It just makes me a little sad.’ You signed your initials at the bottom of your entry, closed the journal and set it on your nightstand before laying down and going to sleep.  

The next day was back to being like any other. You woke up to your alarm, went for a jog, took a shower, had breakfast and went to work. You worked all day, over your time as usual, and then went home. You made something for dinner which either meant you put something small together or accidentally made a feast. It was hard cooking for one.

You watched a few episodes of a show you’d gotten invested in, then it was time to shower and go to bed to do it all again tomorrow. You crawled into bed and grabbed your new journal to write about any small triumphs or losses during your day. You opened it and you were about to flip to the second page when you noticed writing at the bottom of yesterday's entry that wasn’t yours. 

‘Not sure who wrote the first entry. It’s strange that it was their twenty-first birthday today too. That evening does sound like a nice way to end your birthday though. I wouldn’t mind ending my birthday like that too. I’m sorry they had to be sad at all on their special day. I hope they find someone kind to fall in love with so they can have a birthday like that next year. In fact, I’m going to use my birthday wish for them and wish that very thing. Whoever you are, wherever you are. Happy Birthday.’ H.H. You were so fucking confused. Had someone broken into your apartment? Why would they take nothing and write in your journal?  You turned to the next page and started writing. 

‘I think someone broke into my apartment! Maybe one of my friends? Nothing is missing but someone wrote an entry in my new journal. It was nice but extremely weird. Like I just don’t know why anyone would do that. Everything else about today was totally normal other than that. Maybe I should get some security cameras just to be safe. I should mention it to mom and dad but I don’t want to worry them. I’ll look into cameras tomorrow. Now I feel like the bed will seem bigger and lonelier tonight while I worry about who was in here. Hopefully I’m not gutted in my sleep.’ Your initials signed the entry and you closed the book.

Tuesday was a copy paste day which meant it was exactly like your Monday. You had checked into some cameras, at least for the door and the living room. You were so busy the rest of the day you had forgotten about your journal until you were climbing into bed again. You grabbed it and immediately turned to the second page. Just to see. Just to laugh at yourself for thinking someone broke in just to write a cryptic entry in your new journal. Just to laugh... but you weren’t laughing. There at the bottom of the second page, under your entry from yesterday was the same handwriting and while beautiful you were officially freaked out. 

‘Gutted in your sleep?! Jesus Christ! That’s fucking terrifying! I think I have a theory that I plan on checking tonight. If I’m right, I might scream and burn this thing! We’ll see I suppose.’ H.H. You turned to the next page. You wrote the date. 

‘I don’t know who the hell keeps-’ You stopped writing when words that were not yours started scribbling across the page out of nowhere. You dropped your pen, slammed the book closed and threw it. 

“What the fuck!?” You rubbed your eyes and looked at the journal on the floor across your room. You didn’t just see that. It was a trick of the light or a long day. Yea, it was a long day and you were just seeing things. You were certain when you went and grabbed that book and opened it that it was going to be a page with a date at the top and half a sentence.

You slowly walked over, knelt down, and picked up the journal, then went and sat back down on your bed. You closed your eyes and opened it. You slowly opened them and you were in disbelief. There on the page, in the same writing from the two days before... 

‘Do you see this?’ You did, but what were you seeing? More words started appearing. 

‘If you are seeing this, please, write back.’ You picked up your pen. 

‘I see it.’ You waited and then words started appearing again. 

‘Holy shit! Okay so do you need like help crossing?’ You scrunched up your face confused by what they were asking. 

‘What do you mean? Crossing what? Like a bridge?’ 

‘How can I help settle your spirit? Is there a message from beyond that you would like me to pass along to a loved one?’ Oh for fucks sake. They thought you were a ghost. 

‘I am not a ghost!’ 

‘Oh no you didn’t remember that you died! Were you gutted in your sleep?! Oh god I’m so sorry!’ You shook your head and scribbled. 

‘No no no. I’m just not dead. Not a ghost.’ There was a long pause before the next words appeared on the page. 

‘Are you sure? On a scale of 1-10 how certain are you?’ You pressed your fingers into your eyes taking a deep breath. Be understanding. It was a super crazy situation. 

‘I’m sure. 1,000. I’m very much so alive. You said your birthday was the other day too. Did you get a journal?” 

‘Yeah. Did you send it? What the hell is going on?!’ Whoever was writing seemed like they were starting to freak out a bit. You tried to calm them down. 

‘No I didn’t send it. I’m not sure what’s going on. Let’s try and keep calm. My name is y/n, what’s yours?’ 

‘I’m Hyunjin. How are you so chill about this? This is the craziest thing that has ever happened to me!’ You weren’t really sure why you weren’t freaking out yourself. 

‘I don’t know how to explain it but it doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to be a scary or ominous thing. I don’t understand what’s happening or why but it kind of feels like we were meant to get these books. I don’t know I’m sure that sounds crazy.’ It definitely sounded crazy. You didn’t know this man at all why would you both get some magic book that allows you to write to each other? 

‘So what do we do?’ Why in the world was he asking you? You had no idea. 

‘I don’t know. I guess only one of us should use it. Since you used your birthday wish for me you take it.’ 

‘Well wait now. Wishing you well and me keeping some magic journal isn’t exactly a fair trade’ 

‘Really Hyunjin it’s okay. Besides it’s only a magic book if we both write in it. Enjoy and happy birthday.’ You signed your name, a small heart, then closed the book and put it away on your bookshelf. You grabbed another journal and made an entry in it about the magic journal and Hyunjin and then you went to bed.  

For the first few days after, you found yourself looking over at the bookshelf wondering if Hyunjin was using it, tempted to look inside, but you had told him he could use it and that would be invading his privacy, his innermost thoughts and you couldn’t do that. So you left it. About a month after your birthday a guy accidentally bumped into you coming out of the café, making you spill your coffee. 

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” You looked at the, luckily, iced coffee down the front of you and sighed. 

“It’s okay it happens.” You went to walk off and get clothes that were not saturated in bean water when he hurried to stop you. 

“Wait uh... I feel terrible really. Let me make it up to you!” You started shaking your head. 

“No really it’s not nec-” He put his hands together. 

“Please, let me do something... uh... let me take you to dinner?” You stopped surprised. You figured he’d ask to replace the coffee and you were prepared to say no again but he asked about dinner. 

“Dinner?” He nodded, smiling. 

“Yes! Please! Let me take you to dinner to make up for being such an absolute klutz.” Wow. He was really cute and he seemed nice. Hyunjin had used his birthday wish for you, maybe the universe was putting it into play. 

“Okay, dinner.” He smiled ear to ear and gave you his phone number so that you could make the arrangements, after you got out of your wet coffee-stained clothes that is. The cute klutz's name was Ian and the dinner to make up for exploding your coffee on you ended up being the first of many. Weeks, months went by and lots of other firsts came and went. First kiss, first time sleeping together, first Christmas as a couple.  

Things started out perfect and you were so happy. Then over a period of time, you started to see another side of Ian. It started with him getting irritable and he’d do little controlling things. They were always so subtle and the way he would suggest something questionable he always made it seem like it should be so reasonable.

You put up with a lot for quite a while but after five months of it, when Ian asked you to move in and you said no, that was the last straw. You’d been at dinner and he’d quietly accepted the no while in the restaurant but once dinner was over and you were in the car, he lost it. He was yelling as he drove recklessly through the streets, narrowly missing a few cars and running multiple red lights.

You were scared he would crash you into someone on purpose out of sheer anger. Somehow you made it to your apartment without wrecking. When he came to a screeching halt out front you immediately got out of the car and bent down looking in mad. 

“It’s over Ian. We’re done!” You slammed the car door shut and he started to get out of his car. 

“Wait... baby!” The babies were starting and you weren’t waiting. After that car ride and the things he said, you were done. You went inside your apartment and you heard him speed off, his tires chirping. His texts and calls started right after and you just turned your phone off. He’d give up eventually. You laid out on your bed and cried, angry with yourself for letting him fool you, angry for fooling yourself.  

Deep down you felt it. It wasn’t right, he wasn’t ever going to be the one no matter what you had tolerated. You knew you did what was best but you still felt the void it left too. For the first time in six months, you went over to your bookshelf that you kept the journal on and grabbed it.

You walked back over to your bed and sat down with your legs crossed and the book in your hands. You sat there looking at it for a good while. You just needed to pour your heart out and you could do that in any one of your journals but you wanted to do it in this one. You flipped to the first blank page you found and started writing. 

‘I didn’t read any of your entries I promise. I just had to...I don’t know what I thought. I guess I thought your wish had come true. I met a guy and I thought the wish really came true, but it ended up being a horrible mistake. I think about you all the time. I don’t know why when we only wrote each other the one time and I know this might be strange to say but I miss you.’ You signed your name and a heart and closed the journal putting it on your nightstand, then went to sleep.

The next morning you woke up and your eyes were immediately on the journal when they opened. You sat up and grabbed it but hesitated to open it. What if he didn’t write back? What if he was mad that you wrote in it again when you said you wouldn’t? What if he thought it was weird that you said you missed him? How can you miss a guy you don’t even know?

You took a deep breath and opened the book to the last page you had written on. There underneath your entry was Hyunjin’s beautiful handwriting and you could feel a weight lifting off your chest.  

‘He didn’t hurt you did he?! I’m so sorry it didn’t come true. If I’m being honest, I miss you too and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I don’t know why I can’t get you out of my head when I don’t even know you. Go to the page after our last conversation and start reading the entries.’ H.H. He wanted you to read his journal entries? You were confused. You went to the page he told you and started reading. 

‘It’s been a few days. I’ve opened the book here and there to see if maybe you had written something. I don’t know, I feel like if I'm not using it for its intended purpose then I shouldn’t use it and its purpose was for me to write you. I don’t know why. I hope you’re doing well wherever you are and I hope one day you open your book and see this. Until then I’ll write to you.’ You turned the page and there was the next entry.

Hyunjin telling you about his day, and then questions about things he wished he knew about you with space left beneath for your answers. He would tell you his answers as well, his likes and dislikes. You went through, day after day, it was all always written to you.

Poems he’d read, work he’d finished, random silly things about his days that usually made you laugh and then questions. You read every page, answered every question and by the time you got to where you had written again you felt like you had known Hyunjin your whole life. You looked at the last words Hyunjin had written on the page.  

‘I think we should meet.’ Your heart skipped a beat and you started to panic. Meet?! It seemed so sudden, so fast. You had only just ended things with Ian but something was drawing you and Hyunjin to each other and not just the journals. You decided there was no use fighting it. 

‘When? Where?’ Hyunjin told you to meet him Sunday at eleven at the café by the park. You would get coffee, go for a walk, and talk. 

‘How will I know it’s you?’ Hyunjin thought for a minute. 

‘I’ll wear my hair pulled back.’ Sunday was only a day away. You panicked most of Saturday and rifled through your whole closet deciding what to wear. You decided on nice but casual, you picked a wide necked oversized sweater and a tank top with some jeans and tennis shoes.

Sunday you were walking up to the café when you saw a guy sitting at an outdoor table reading a book. He was hands down the most beautiful person you’d ever laid eyes on. Two beauty marks adorned his face, one on his cheek, the other under an eye, he had lips that looked pillowy soft, and long blonde hair pulled back. There was no way that was Hyunjin, but what were the chances of two guys with long hair pulled back showing up at the café at the same time. You slowly walked up ready to make an ass out of yourself when you realized it wasn’t him. 

“Uh... Hyunjin?” The man looked up from his book and his eyes locked on you. His mouth was slightly opened and he didn’t say anything at first. You just stood there, you didn’t know if it was him or not. Finally the man shook his head and smiled at you. 

“Yes! Sorry! Yes, I'm Hyunjin. You must be y/n.” He stood and leaned in to hug you as you put out your hand, then you leaned in to hug him and he stuck his hand out. You both laughed and leaned in for a little hug then you joined him at the table he’d been sitting at. 

“What would you like? I’ll go order it for you.” You gave Hyunjin your order and he went inside to get your coffee. You pinched yourself as you sat there waiting to make sure you weren’t dreaming. The man that penned at least a hundred and fifty-three pages, written to you, was not only intelligent and kindhearted he was also insanely gorgeous.

It only took Hyunjin a couple minutes to get your coffee. When he came back he sat across from you and set your drink down. You had a little small talk as you sat there and you were nervous. You didn’t know why you were nervous, but you were.  

“Do you want to go on a walk in the park?” You weren’t sure if he was picking up on your energy but a walk sounded perfect. 

“I’d like that.” Hyunjin put his book in his messenger bag and hung it around himself. You both grabbed your coffees and took the path that led to the flower garden in the park. As you walked around you were able to calm down a little and it was easier to talk as you both admired the flowers.

You got quiet when, part of the way through, Hyunjin’s fingers wove through yours and he held your hand as you continued to walk along the path. After a minute he stopped and faced you. God he was beautiful and with the flowers and the perfect weather he looked ethereal. 

“y/n I want to say something but I don’t want to freak you out.” You nodded. 

“Okay, just so you know if you’re trying to not freak me out, saying that is not a great start.” Hyunjin laughed nervously. 

“I suppose not.” You grabbed his other hand and squeezed them both gently. 

“Go ahead Hyunjin, I’m just teasing. It’s okay.” He took a deep breath. 

“I... I think we might be soulmates.” You wanted to act shocked. You wanted it to be a startling hypothesis, but it wasn’t. In fact, as soon as he said it you felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner but not everyone has a soulmate. 

“Oh my god! Of course!” He breathed a sigh of relief hearing you agree. He was worried you might not believe him, that you might reject him. He also didn’t want you to think that just because you were soulmates you had to rush anything. There was still so much to learn about each other.

You both were so caught up in the moment you didn’t notice the grey clouds making their way in. Then suddenly the sky opened up and it started to pour down rain. Hyunjin gripped your hand tighter and ran for the closest building with an awning. You were both soaked laughing, you looked up at him and saw stray wet hairs stuck to his face. You pushed them back, your fingers tracing his skin and your eyes watched as his tongue darted across his pouty lips.  

You couldn’t take it anymore. You stood on your toes, wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him under that awning in the rain. Then Hyunjin wrapped his arms around you and kissed you back. It was like fireworks were going off. It was so different than your first kiss with Ian. That first kiss with Ian was when you knew it wasn’t right that he wasn’t the one, but your first kiss with Hyunjin? Felt like coming home. 

On your and Hyunjin’s twenty second birthday you spent your shared day with both your families and friends. When the day was over and everyone had left, you laid in bed together, laughing as Hyunjin dramatically recalled how he reacted to the entry you had written about hoping to not be gutted. You laid your head on his chest and as your laughter died down you could hear his heart thumping. Without a word you sat up and climbed on top of Hyunjin straddling his waist, then leaned over and kissed him. Your lips parted from his only enough to speak. 

“Happy birthday Hyunjinnie.” You kissed him again and he held your face as he deepened it. He pulled away breathless. 

“Happy birthday baby.” He kissed you again and started running his hands down your body. They traveled under your night shirt and he gripped your soft breasts as his tongue explored your mouth. You sat up quickly pulling the shirt off over your head and then leaned back down and claimed Hyunjin’s lips again.

You started pulling his shirt up and your lips left his long enough to pull it off. You were grinding your hips into Hyunjin’s, hands gripping each other, teeth biting, tongues tasting. Hyunjin sat up wrapping his arms around you and then suddenly you were on your back under him. He pulled down his sweatpants and kicked them off as he reached into your panties and started teasing your clit with two fingers. 

“So wet for me already?” You pushed at him. 

“Hyunjinahh! Don’t tease!” He smiled before kissing down your neck and shoulder, the two fingers still gently rubbing your arousal over the sensitive nerves. 

“No teasing tonight baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He kissed down your chest and started sucking on your breasts. You wove your fingers through his hair as he kissed and sucked at your nipples. You moaned when the two fingers he had been rubbing you with slid inside you.

Hyunjin made his way down your body as he fingered you and when his face hovered over your clothed core you thought you might lose your mind at the sight of him. He pulled your panties to the side and when he started to eat you out you gripped his hair again, tighter. 

“Jinnie! God yes! Right there!” Hyunjin pumped his fingers into you and licked your clit before kissing it. 

“Right there jagiya?” He started sucking on your clit and you aggressively shook your head. 

“YES! FUCK YES!” Hyunjin took his time. He’d mapped your body out countless times now and he knew how to drive you to the brink of madness from pleasure alone and he was going to do just that. His fingers worked inside you brushing against your g spot as he continued to lick and suck on your clit you could feel the building climax inside you. 

“Please... please... please...” You plead with Hyunjin needing the release you were desperately close to. His pillowy soft lips latched around your clit again and when he hummed against you, you went plummeting into your orgasm. 

“Hyu-Hyun-Hyunjinnie! Oh my god! Yesyesyes!” Your hips tried to grind up against his face but his strong hands held you down as he continued to guide you through your climax. He gently took long slow licks up your glistening cunt as you started twitching from the overstimulation.

He gave your pussy one last soft kiss and then climbed back up towards your face, your lips. His pressed against yours, so plush, as the fog in your head started to lift. You started sitting up prompting Hyunjin to as well, although he wouldn’t stop kissing you. He loved the way you tasted. Your skin, your lips, your cunt, he could never get enough.

You guided him to sit back against the headboard, his legs spread. Your lips only left his to leave a wet trail of kisses down Hyunjin’s neck and chest. His fingers threaded through your hair as you made your way down his body. When your lips hovered over his throbbing cock you looked up at him, licking your lips. He couldn’t help the shuddering breath he took at the sight of you between his legs. He gently traced his fingers down your face, biting his lip. 

“Please baby... suck on it.” You nodded smiling and put the tip in your mouth, running your tongue around it and sucking like Hyunjin had asked of you. He moaned and pulled your hair up into a ponytail with his hands so he could see as you started to work your way further down his shaft. When you gagged on him, you pulled off stroking him, looking into his eyes, watching them glint from the pleasure you were giving him. 

“I want you to cum in my mouth Jinnie.” His jaw dropped surprised to hear you say that. He’d never done that before. 

“I... are you sure?” You licked your lips looking at him and nodded. Hyunjin nodded back and you started sucking his dick again. You bobbed up and down, using your spit to stroke what you couldn’t fit. His tip kept pressing against the back of your throat and Hyunjin thought he would lose his mind it felt so good. His breath came faster as his stomach sucked in and out. 

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum!” You hummed giving your permission again to cum in your mouth and the vibrations from your lips pushed him over the edge. He whimpered and his body stiffened, as well as his grip on your hair as he started to spill into your mouth. 

“Oh god! Oh fuck! Jagiya mmmm!” His head thumped back against the headboard as you drank down every drop of his cum. You licked the tip one last time and looked up at his fucked-out face, head tilted back. He took another deep breath and looked down at you again.

When he saw that sweet face of yours, his heart melted. He was yours. Always. He loved you so much. He pulled you to sit in his lap and he held your face as he kissed you. You sat there like that for who knew how long. Arms wrapped around each other, slowly, softly kissing.

After making out a while, you slid your panties off, leaned forward and gripped Hyunjin’s cock, pushing it inside you. You both held on to the other, moaning as he filled you. You slowly started working your hips against his as you looked into each other’s eyes. It was so intimate, so sensual. 

“I love you Hyunjin.” He kissed you and every time he kissed you it felt just like the first, fireworks. He pressed his forehead to yours as you continued riding him. 

“I love you too y/n, I love you so much...” He held you as your bodies pressed and rubbed together, sweaty, hot. You made love like that for what felt like forever, for what felt like would never be long enough. You both were holding the others face, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked on their love, their forever, as you came together.

Tears streaked your face as your trembled through your climax, Hyunjin’s warm cum filling you. He wiped your tears and hugged you closely. You rested your head on his shoulder as Hyunjin softened inside you, both of you basking in the warmth of the other. When heartbeats and breathing returned to normal you curled up together in bed. Hyunjin’s birthday wish for you had come true after all, in ways he never had imagined. 

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[seungminstaehyun]

Something In The Rain | lmh

❝𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫.❞

↳ Chapter ¼ of Something In The Rain. Inside the polished walls of Help, Heart and Justice Limited, you work under the guidance of enigmatic senior attorney Lee Minho to support him and his legal team. And perhaps under all the professionalism, feelings stray, yet you’re committed to keeping said feelings buried whilst you pine from afar. Until an act of kindness on a dark, rainy evening turns everything upside down; for even the most put together of men must indulge their demonic appetites.

↳ Lee Know x female reader

↳ 9k

↳ Supernatural au, strangers/colleagues to lovers, office romance, lust demon Lee Know, eventual smut

! Explicit content, adult themes, suitable for 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」  「© May 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

Rainy nights are truly among your favourite things.

It seems universally known that there is something inexplicably and inherently comforting about them.

To speak personally of your own comfort, it’s sitting in a space of your own making, wrapped up in warmth while outside the elements rage. You’re far from afraid of such weather—rather, you admire the raw power of nature—yet watching the downpour from the safety of indoors brings contentment. There is separation from the chill and the wet: you’re out of reach of the unforgiving bite. When the melodic patter of heavy raindrops bears down on you, there is stillness and serenity, and what follows is catharsis.

You long for such peace in this moment, as the unforgiving rain streaks the twenty-fifth-floor windows, distorting the dark panorama of the city.

You’re no stranger to long days, thoroughly conditioned to late office hours. Indeed, where others may be inclined to gripe about such overtime requirements, you consider it an obligation, for the nature of litigation demands an overinvestment of attention. Assisting a small team of attorneys under the much larger corporate umbrella of Help, Heart and Justice Limited equates you to something of a small fish in a big pond; your efforts to reach above and beyond the outline of your role go largely unnoticed by those that swim high above, assuredly carnivorous in proclivity. And that’s fine. It’s always been fine. You work to assist the people, for the people, neither assuming nor seeking praise.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself; that your reasons for lingering at the office are chaste and noble, that your integrity is intact when you bend over backwards to accommodate the enigmatic senior attorney that heads your team. To claim your efficiency and dedication is a product of anything other than an ironclad work ethic would be incomprehensibly unprofessional, wildly slanderous, a cruel accusation.

Keep reading

[seungminstaehyun]

HOTEL VERMILION | Chapter 1

«SERIES MASTERLIST»

«How may I be of service to you this evening?»

ANTE UP 📜6.6k | Approx. 28-min. read 🚨Refer to series masterlist for general themes & warnings of this story: Simp agenda taken to new heights, implied PTSD, guns, breaking and entering, heavy (mutual) infatuation and fantasizing, oral sex, masturbation. 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

If someone had told Hwang Hyunjin back then he would actually be happier working as a hotel concierge than an agent, he would have laughed his ass off and busted out a heartfelt “Good one!”

Most people probably picked this line of business for noble reasons. To fight crime. For justice to be served. For the betterment of humanity. Hyunjin was made aware of the fact that superpowers didn’t exist very early on; therefore, he grew up thinking this was the closest thing he could ever get to Iron Man.

Yup. He had very much chosen this occupation because he looked the fuck up to Tony Stark. The super rich egotistical dude who cared about nothing but himself.

It wasn’t solely because he was a superhero. The guy was notorious as a goddamn genius playboy. People either despised him or wanted to be him. Or died to be with him.

Hyunjin had never considered Iron Man as fiction and he lived for that sort of envy. 

Once he set his mind on something, everything stopped, and he hyperfixated on that and that only. As a result of his meteoric success even as a rookie, he was specifically asked to take on cold cases that were considered unbreakable because his superiors were fully aware of his kryptonite: Hyunjin couldn’t stand not knowing something. He would obsessively work those cases until he cracked them for months on end. He got his answers, his bosses crossed names off their most wanted roster, and everybody was happy.

Over the years, Hyunjin had made a name for himself for being deviously analytical. He somehow knew how to think like a criminal as if it was in his disposition to be one, and he had just mistakenly taken a right turn instead of a left when it was time for him to make career choices.

This wasn’t a simple day job for him. He pitied those who woke up and went to their workaday nine-to-fives just to get a paycheck without ever knowing what thrill meant. Hyunjin, on the other hand, was getting paid to solve puzzles and he lived for that rush of one-upping people who thought they could commit the perfect crime. Murderers? Done, next. Counterfeiters? Done, next. Swindlers? Done, next. Next. Next. Next.

Until he had to go undercover to take down The Anonymous Syndicate and pawned his whole entire personality in the meantime. 

He had seen things that would make an average human being go clinically insane. He had witnessed things that required an iron pouch in lieu of a stomach to endure. He had said things and he had done things that he loathed himself for. Yet, none of them was enough to take that smug motherfucker Choi San down. 

Choi San. Next in line for the syndicate throne, publicly known as the devilishly charming prince of The Choi Group. The sun never set on their business empire as there wasn’t a single industry they hadn’t already infiltrated. It was un-fucking-believable how this man was able to lead an entirely Starkesque lifestyle hiding in plain sight, appearing at club openings and yacht parties with ridiculously good-looking people accompanying him as if he didn’t orchestrate someone’s torture at some warehouse one night prior.

Choi San. The perpetrator of the massive hit on Hyunjin’s gargantuan ego. The ultimate cause of Hyunjin having a brutal existential crisis about the person he was becoming and how he actually felt about it. That one splinter he was never able to remove from his skin. That one persistent itch at the back of his brain that denied him relief at all costs.

It took a lot of pride swallowing on Hyunjin’s part, but he finally came to terms with calling it a day. This whole experience was weirdly humbling for him. After handing over his assignment, he also handed in his resignation letter and fucked right off in an attempt to erase his memories. Somewhere as far away from here as possible, taking odd jobs here and there to readjust to normality and maintain a living.

But once a fiend, always a fiend.

He was a thrill junkie, and it wasn’t long before he started showing symptoms of withdrawal. 

He followed the trail of luxury, glamour, neon lights, and completely unhinged behavior that was socially acceptable, and eventually found himself under the arid sky of Las Vegas. Among all the choices he had, he took a job as a concierge at one of the gigantic complexes on the Strip just because the name of the establishment intrigued him. His job was fundamentally simple.

Do whatever it takes to make the guests happy for they are here to escape reality and experience a mirage.

His guests’ blurry memories weren’t really Hyunjin’s, but he got an inexplicable kick out of being the black box no one asked for.

“Welcome to Hotel Vermilion. How may I be of service to you this evening?”

Same greeting. Same charming smile. Same suave as fuck demeanor. It never changed. Hyunjin executed it flawlessly every single time, and as months turned into years, his welcome tally was about to hit somewhere north of several thousand. Even after all this time, he was only working the night shifts because of his nocturnality, which was a souvenir from his previous life, not that he was complaining. This city woke up only after the sky lost consciousness after all. 

Throughout his time here, he had seen many things, heard many things, and knew to keep his mouth shut at all times. His job description did not have room for minding anybody else’s business—he was only supposed to fulfill whatever was requested of him, and fulfill it well.

To his luck, he never had a chance to be bored around here. Every guest was like a case file harboring many quirks waiting to be discovered, and it made a nice substitute for his raging puzzle addiction. Hyunjin was treating his job much like a game where he earned experience points for catering to the whims of the guests, no matter how unreasonable. As a matter of fact, the more unreasonable, the better—it was tremendously helping his reputation of having top-notch skills in hospitality and discretion as well as being a fine judge of character, and words had a way of traveling fast. He didn’t mind the occasional cunts that stopped by because, unlike real life, he was getting paid to please people here. Once they were gone, Hyunjin was still getting gradually hefty checks in his mailbox. No harm, no foul.

“Good evening. I’d like to check in, please.”

Hyunjin was a professional. He was nothing but a host having guests over, and it was his responsibility to point them in the direction of a good time. That was what they were here for after all. He had hosted rowdy crowds of bachelors and bachelorettes ready to burn wads of cash before walking into a world of delusion, couples on their honeymoons, singles that were in town for an expedited mingle session, people with their wedding rings still on seemingly here for a conference, the whole spiel. But he was always able to discern the thin line between personal and professional no matter how blurry it could get at times.

He had absolutely no idea what it was, but that two-second incident of this new guest declaring their request in that unnecessarily enticing voice immediately grabbed him by the throat and held it in a tight grip.

You.

He had seen people with strikingly beautiful features before, but never once did he encounter someone with such a fascinating aura. Mysterious. Alluring. Pulsating with a hint of danger, and Hyunjin found it absolutely irresistible. 

Two seconds. Your entire exchange lasted for two seconds, but you somehow managed to intrigue the fuck out of him. For a moment, Hyunjin thought it started raining outside because he heard the loud rumble of the lightning striking between your eyes. 

Well, good evening to you too, goddess.

“Do you have a reservation?”

“No.”

“How long will you be staying with us?”

“Indefinitely.”

“May I ask for your preferences in your room?”

“I don’t care. Just something comfortable.”

“What’s your price range?”

“Don’t I look expensive enough for you?”

Indeed you did. If anything, you actually looked unaffordable to Hyunjin. He had so many questions about you already and he would love to ask all of them over drinks at the casino bar maybe, but would you even say yes to him?

As he was working that keyboard processing your reservation, his fingers grabbed your attention. Long. Slender. Dexterous. Either meant to be a piano virtuoso or a heavyweight fingering champion. Considering what he seemed to be doing for a living, you wondered if the other option had any truth to it at all.

“You have really pretty hands,” you nodded towards them, “Dabbling with art, are we?”

“You could say that,” he responded with a somewhat cryptic smile without taking his eyes off the screen.

“Music?”

“I draw sometimes.”

It was only after he uttered that sentence did you pay close attention to his features. Maybe he had drawn his own face too because who the fuck looked that perfect? 

“Good to know,” you smirked with your eyes glued to the way he placed the keycard in its paper container and slid it towards you.

“Room 320. Enjoy your stay.”

“You’re not gonna show me to my room?”

Hyunjin was briefly taken aback by your words as no one had ever asked for his personal assistance to… find their room.

“That’s what our porters do, miss.”

“Well, as you can see, I don’t have any luggage. I’d appreciate it very much if you could do it for me,” you grabbed the keycard and started making your way towards the elevator, “The reception desk can stay intact for fifteen minutes without you, no?”

Hyunjin was simply unable to resist the pull he felt towards you. He was drawn to you as if you had some magnetic capsule around you. Some tiny voice at the back of his head was telling him to be wary, but you were just utterly spellbinding. 

Good god, what are you doing to me?

As he show you to where you’d be staying for the foreseeable future, you were curious about what kind of a choice he made on your behalf. He took the keycard from your hand to open the door for you, and once you walked inside, you were more than satisfied that you let this man assign a living space for you. High ceilings, huge windows, basically a tastefully decorated apartment with an open floor plan that felt like you could breathe inside.

“Would you like a tour of your room?”

“Yes, please.”

He started showing you around the place starting from the private bathroom, to the lounge area with a grand piano—not that anyone had ever played it—and finally to the bedroom that had a separate tub facing the mesmerizing city view. As he finished the tour, he couldn’t help but imagine what you would look like between the sheets of that bed.

“This is my personal number,” Hyunjin pulled out a card from the inner pocket of his blazer, “If you need anything at all, please call me. Day or night.”

“You’re going to be my personal butler or what?” you smirked at him while reaching for the card.

“If you wish so.”

You examined the details written on there, and at long last, you were able to put a name to the face.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” you read the title on the card out loud and put it in your back pocket, “Your name is as pretty as you are.”

“You flatter me, miss.”

“It’s been a great pleasure to meet you, Hyunjin,” you started fishing for something in your bag, “Stop it with the miss, though. I’m not someone that important.”

That important. Well, to him you were that important. Argue with the wall maybe.

“Then how do I address you?”

As you took a few seconds before answering him, you intently examined the way how his Adam’s apple moved when he gulped.

“Any way you like.”

Oh, the things I would address you as… 

The tension between you was so palpable that it could be cut with a blunt knife. You walked closer to him with a crisp hundred-dollar bill in your hand and slowly slid it into the left pocket of his slacks. If you reached any deeper, you could satisfy some other curiosity that was currently drilling a hole in your brain, but this didn’t seem like the best time for an inappropriate advance. 

“I might take you up on your offer sooner than you think,” you softly spoke as you pulled your hand out of his pocket, “Thank you.”

Hyunjin respectfully nodded with his usual charming smile and left you to unwind in your room. Once he closed that door behind him, he could feel his heart rabidly beating in his chest as if it wanted to rip his ribcage apart.

As days were passing by, the afterimage of your face seemed to be solidifying behind Hyunjin’s eyelids instead of fading away. He couldn’t get you out of his head. You were constantly preoccupying his every waking thought, causing him to wonder what you were doing, where you were going, and what you were wearing. He was pulled back to the earth when his phone started ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is your guest from Room 320. Do you know how to do a manicure?”

Finally. The anticipated phonecall had finally arrived. Hyunjin’s breath hitched in his throat when he realized who was on the other end of the line.

“I can arrange a manicurist for you.”

“That wasn’t the question,” you insisted impatiently, “Do you know how to do it?”

Why, of course, he knew how to do many things. He had taught himself a bunch of stuff he thought was useless in anticipation of meeting someone like you someday.

“Yes, I do.”

“Bring your supplies. I’ll be waiting.”

“Do you have a preference for nail lacquer?”

“OPI. In the shade of I’m Not Really A Waitress.”

“I’ll arrange it right away.”

As he ended the call, Hyunjin chuckled to himself at the very specific name of the nail polish. Why would you even need to pick that one to get your message across? He knew you were nothing but a goddess the first time he laid his eyes on you anyway.

When he knocked on your door, you welcomed him with your hair still damp, clearly fresh out of the shower.

“Please come in,” you stepped aside and immediately grabbed the opportunity to throw snark his way, “Hope the porters can cover for you while you are away.”

Hyunjin responded with a soft chuckle and made his way towards the anthracite sofa. He pulled one of the small, circular coffee tables next to him to lay out his instruments on a towel as well as the warm water he had prepared. Once he was ready to go, he held your hand to start filing your nails, but the second he touched you, he felt his existence jumpstarted as if your hands were a pair of defibrillators.

Hyunjin had never felt this alive before.

“How long have you been here?” you asked him to fill in the silence.

“A couple of years.”

“Why Vegas?”

“Why does anyone ever come to Vegas?”

“To make bad decisions,” you shrugged, “I don’t know anybody who’s willingly moved here to… live.”

He found your somewhat shallow deduction amusing. Without taking his eyes off his target, he responded.

“Bad decisions make great memories, don’t you think?” he put one of your hands inside the bowl filled with warm water, “No good story ever started with someone eating a salad. Especially in Vegas.”

On the outside, Hyunjin was as composed as ever, but in reality, your scent was very much distracting him. You smelled heavenly. Hints of peach as well as something creamy, probably the concoction of your shower gel and shampoo lingering all over your body. Meanwhile, you were observing the way he was working on your hands a little too expertly for that matter.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” you asked completely enthralled.

“Not much.”

“But there is.”

It was only at that moment did He look up to briefly hold your gaze, and answered with a serene smile.

“Of course.”

“For example?”

Hyunjin dipped your fingers in warm water and started massaging your hand with rose oil to relax the tensed muscles. His tone was as blasé as it could get as if he was just informing you of some mundane trivia.

“I don’t know how to stop.”

“An artist in areas more than one,” you reflected his smile back to him, “Practicing the art of seduction, too, huh?”

“Please. I wouldn’t dare.”

His words tickled something inside you. The curls at the corner of your lips evolved into a soft chuckle.

“I like you, Hyunjin,” you mindlessly uttered as you were looking at your own hands, “A lot.”

His name spilling from your lips like that caused him to steal another glance from you. He examined how your eyes turned into crescents when you smiled. The shape of your lips when you uttered those words. The way you felt the need to end your sentence with an adverb. 

If only… If only you knew…

“Do you live close by?” you continued with your small talk.

“Very much,” he nodded with creased brows while applying nail polish, “I live here.”

“In the hotel?”

“Yes.”

“That’s unusual,” you tilted your head in genuine curiosity, “Don’t you have anyone to go home to?”

“No.”

“How come a guy like you is not taken already?”

“Maybe because nobody has ever wanted to take me,” he faintly blew air on your nails.

It wasn’t a lie. In his previous life, his priorities didn’t really include cultivating long-term romantic relationships as he didn’t know when shit could go down himself. When he started over, his environment included nothing but strangers, and Hyunjin wasn’t really tempted by the idea of having workplace romances. It wouldn’t even be a workplace thing for that matter since he technically also lived there, and it was going to be nothing but a nuisance to work with that person once things didn’t work out. Because it certainly was not going to work out.

“So we’re neighbors, huh?” he asked with a playful tone while drawing patterns on your nails.

“I guess so.”

Neither of you spoke until Hyunjin finished his little impromptu nail art. You just watched him. You watched every single move he made. You scanned every little detail of him. The barely discernable creases at the corner of his eyes. The beauty mark right under his eye. His eyelashes. His nose. His lips. His hands. The way his hair fell. The veins on his neck. Everything.

“Done,” he finally finished his work and started packing up, “I hope you’re satisfied with the result.”

“It looks wonderful. Thank you very much.”

He broke into a content smile seeing how much you like his work. You walked Hyunjin to the door as if you were seeing off a guest visiting your apartment.

“And I happen to know the importance of being a generous tipper.”

With one swift movement, you untied the belt of the silk kimono robe you had on to flash him. All Hyunjin could react with was the involuntary parting of his lips as he was too busy losing his goddamn mind over the sight.

“As a thank you,” you winked at him and slowly closed the door before he could say anything, “Good night, Hyunjin.”

There was no way Hyunjin could go back to the reception desk in that state. One look at your breasts in the flesh and he was rock hard on cue. He immediately changed routes and darted to his own room to take care of his little problem. He was unbuckling his belt even as he was walking past the threshold of his door, and once he reached his bathroom, he palmed his flushed cock and started to jerk off frantically. It somehow felt like you were touching him.

Fucking sink your nails into my skin. I want all those crescent moons aligning perfectly on my back.

You had such a pure beauty to you as if you were an antithesis to those overdone models everyone was thirsting over. Pure. Like crystal-clear seawater. You had no makeup on tonight, and you didn’t even need it. Your eyes. They were everything. They smiled when you smiled. Your lips looked so moist, and the curls at the end of your mouth looked like they were meant to be kissed by him.

“Fucking yes…”

God, your nipples were so hard. Were you turned on by him, too, by any chance? What would it feel like if you got him slippery wet and let him fuck you between your magnificent tits? What would it feel like if you let him cum on them and then lick himself off of you? What if you liked it? What if he kissed you afterwards until you were breathless? What if he slid inside your soaking wet cunt and he got to hear your moans and it got him hard again and you fucked until the break of dawn and, and, and…

“Oh, fuck. Fuck! FUCK!”

Hyunjin came so hard that a sudden headache settled in his skull. He was panting while resting one hand against the wall as his wits slowly came back to him.

I’m gonna get you fucking addicted to what it feels like to fuck me. Just one chance, I’m begging you.

For Hyunjin, the world stopped spinning when you called. Everything else could fuck right off to the final circle of hell because quite simply nothing could be more important than your needs at any given moment.

“Yes?”

“I have a question,” your voice blessed his ears once again, “It says here you offer luxury bath services. How does that work?”

“Aromatherapy is a favorite of our guests. We create a quite relaxing experience for you with bath salts and essential oils.”

“Then I’d like to request No.3, please. I feel very tense.”

“Right away.”

“You will be drawing it for me though, right?”

Hyunjin inadvertently smiled to himself and had to battle the intense urge to tease you. He might have been intensely going through it for reasons unknown to him, but at the end of the day, you were still a guest.

“Of course,” he reassuringly responded instead, “I’ll be right there momentarily.”

You opened the door for him in that familiar kimono robe again, and it was so obvious you weren’t wearing anything inside this time around. Hyunjin was questioning what he might have possibly done to be subjected to this continuous test of willpower, barely escaping the clutch of insanity every single time, not that his sanity was fully intact to begin with.

“Please come in.”

He gave you a slight nod as a greeting and made his way towards the tub in your bedroom that was placed right in front of the humongous window. It was a shame that you were going to bathe here all alone because these tubs were made to be enjoyed by couples against that magnificent view. Leaning against one another and just relaxing. Caressing each other. Stealing kisses. Getting a little too handsy and inevitably fucking each other. Then washing their lust off with lukewarm water thinking they were all clean now, but going for many more rounds in their bed. He could be the other half of your pair if you wanted. All you needed to do was ask.

“Thank you,” you extended your gratitude as he finished his preparations.

“Of course.”

Hyunjin stepped aside to put the ingredients back into their box and once he was done, he started walking back towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

You said it. He heard you say it. You didn’t want him to go? Because? He turned around and responded with a somewhat clueless expression.

“You’ll be having a bath. I’m giving you privacy.”

“I’d like you to stay,” you gestured to seat right next to the tub, “Come, sit.”

He turned around and walked back into your bedroom, his throat drier than the Sahara. You were inviting him to watch you get naked and bathe. While the thought was nothing but his recent wildest dreams come true, this was going to be indubitably much harder than the time you flashed him because he had nowhere to run this time around.

Once Hyunjin sat down, he immediately turned his gaze away as you slid off your kimono and dipped your feet into the water. You had nothing to worry about because he had adjusted the temperature for you perfectly. You submerged your body in the comfort of the hot water and closed your eyes. It was indeed very relaxing for you, but for Hyunjin this was straight up torture.

“Um… Would you like anything else?”

“Yes. A glass of champagne and your companionship, please. I don’t have anybody to talk to,” you turned to your left to face him, “Pour yourself a glass, too.”

“I can’t drink on the job.”

“If anybody asks, I’ll explain it was because of me,” you winked at him, “Come on, one glass. No one will know.”

But how could he say no to you when you asked him looking right into his eyes like that?

The room service he ordered momentarily arrived, and Hyunjin made an absolute show out of opening the bottle, pouring the drink, and finishing it with a plump strawberry inside the flutes for your viewing pleasure. When he handed you your glass, you decided to raise it in his honor.

“To you.”

He just nodded before taking a sip. He had never done something like this with a guest before. To think that he was actually wide awake while having champagne with you… As you were completely naked in a tub… Just watching the fireworks going off in the distance like a private show for the both of you…

“So, what should I do when I’m in Vegas?”

“Well, you could always rent a car and see The Grand Ca—”

“I’m not talking about sightseeing,” you quickly interrupted him, “If I wanted to see The Grand Canyon, I would have booked a ticket to Arizona. I’m curious about the type of stuff that stays here when it happens.”

Hyunjin touched his lips as he was thinking with a cunning look. He wasn’t thinking about what to recommend to you per se; he just couldn’t help imagining himself with you in the very context he was going to talk about.

“Well, we do provide exclusive entertainment at The Vermilion Mirage Club, but that’s reserved for our VIP guests only.”

“Are you class-shaming me right now?” you cocked a brow feigning offense at his words, “And what do I need to do to be your VIP guest?”

Well, for starters we could get married at the chapel downstairs…

“Nothing too elaborate. You just upgrade your room.”

“Might be worth checking it out. I’ll think about it,” you handed your empty glass to him, “Can I have a towel, please?”

“I’ll bring freshly pressed ones.”

Hyunjin headed to the bathroom to take some towels out of the container that kept them warm. To his infinite misfortune, you chose the moment he was placing them right next to you to stand up. He really really didn’t mean to look, but he indeed caught a glimpse of what you looked like naked.

It fucking nuked his whole entire being, and it was going to be goddamn charred behind his eyelids forever now. Why? Why would you do that to him? What did he ever do to you?

You, on the other hand, got out of the water and started drying yourself with the soft towels he brought with an amused expression on your face. Hyunjin was still looking away, being extremely professional and respectful, well, as much as he could be in that context. You smiled.

“Wait here.”

Apparently, you’d done some shopping that day. As he was walking in here, he did notice the logo of a very fancy lingerie brand on the even fancier bag laying on your bed. And judging by the rustling sounds coming behind him…

“How do I look?”

Hyunjin turned around to glance at you. Just by looking at him, it was impossible to read what he was actually thinking, face expressionless, almost indifferent. 

If only you knew about the extent of the wildfire that had broken out inside him upon seeing you like that…

Like my personal pornstar waiting for me to fuck her senseless.

But instead, Hyunjin replied as professionally as ever in a calm tone with no room to doubt the obscene thoughts crawling in his head.

“Absolutely stunning.”

“Oh, come on. I’m asking you as a man,” you looked at him in the mirror while examining the lace covering your intimate parts and turned around, “Would you hit this?”

He had heard many outrageous things during his time here, but never once from someone like you. Never once from an obvious predator disguising themselves as a domestic purring feline. Would he hit that? No, he would fucking destroy it. He would rail it flat. He would hit that so good you would pass out five times in the span of one night and still ask for more.

“I wouldn’t wish to be disrespectful.”

“I’d very much like you to be disrespectful if it means honesty. Answer the question, please.”

You walked up to him with slow steps and gently pulled him towards your body from his tie.

“Would you fuck me?”

On sight.

What was the point? What was the fucking point in trying to hide it? Even if he lied, his embarrassingly obvious bulge under his slacks pressing on your naked thighs was giving him away anyway. He thickly gulped stealing a glimpse of your hardened nipples under that bra doing a horrendous job of hiding you from him, and involuntarily closed his eyes as he was answering.

“In a heartbeat.”

You were quite content with his answer as well as cracks forming on the surface of his composure.

“Did you have dinner?” you nonchalantly asked him while making your way to the lounge area.

“I don’t eat when I work.”

“I’m sure you can make an exception for me.”

He could make all the exceptions in the world for you if it was going to please you. He was there to please you after all. Not even as a guest at this point, but more like…

“Would you like me to bring you a room service menu?”

“No need.”

You walked towards the grand piano in front of the floor-to-ceiling window with your kimono robe trailing behind you, jumped on the closed lid like a cat, and spread your legs open.

“Dinner is served,” you shot him a come-hither look with a soft smile that did not belong to the audacity of what you were doing, “Lick me, pretty. I’m fucking delicious.”

The tiny piece of thread that Hyunjin’s entire sanity was hanging on finally broke and he spectacularly lost it. His lips parted in mild shock for he was having a very hard time believing he heard you right. Nevertheless, as if he was possessed, he started approaching you with slow and careful steps, trying to assess whether you actually wanted this.

He was dying to touch you, to kiss you, but that wasn’t what you asked. Your instruction was clear and specific. He pulled the piano bench right in front of you and leisurely dragged your panties down, then placed your legs on his shoulders, still with excruciatingly unrushed movements.

“Look at me when you eat my pussy,” you ran your fingers through his silky hair, “I wanna see how you like my taste.”

Hyunjin had a pair of abysses instead of eyes and they were crawling with pure lust. He gently spread your labia with his thumbs to see how aroused you were, still in complete disbelief of what was unfolding in this room.

You’re so wet. You think I’m sexy. You want me. You want me to make you cum.

He licked a clean stripe on your heavily glossed folds. You sharply inhaled at the wet contact and started caressing his hair as he started making out with your cunt. Even his oral was very professional, completely aiming to please. 

You think it’s so hot watching me lick your cunt. You think it’s hot as fuck when we make eye contact. You’ve never gotten high out of your mind before, have you? Nobody ever gave you the orgasm you deserve. It’s okay. You have me now.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you breathily whispered, “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

As if your mere presence wasn’t enough, your words went straight to his head and he increased the intensity of his ministrations threefold. How he had dreamed about this. Even the thought of borrowing one touch from you was enough to drive him crazy, yet you decided to commit cold-blooded murder by letting him taste you to his heart’s content.

You taste just the way I like. You feel just the way I like. It’s like you were made for me. You want to fuck me, too, don’t you? Let’s see how you’ll like this.

You felt his large hands traveling from your thighs to your hips to pull you closer to his face. His champagne-flavored lips as plump as the strawberries you ate together were working wonders on your clit, playing a little game of trap-and-release paired with quick teases of his tongue. You had just adjusted to his rhythm when he suddenly changed targets and slurped on your entrance to swallow all the slick oozing out of you.

“Hyunjin!!!”

Aww, look how you’re purring. You love this. You love the way I eat your pussy. You’re riding my face. You want more friction. You’re wondering if I fuck as good as I give head. You’re wondering if I do this for everyone. I don’t. It’s only for you. All for you. The way you have me in a chokehold…

He couldn’t help sinking his fingertips into your skin when you moaned his name like that. You were ripping his soul apart, stomping on the pieces, and he fucking loved every second of it. Your hands were wrapped around his head, guiding him in a gradually quickening rhythm and occasionally pressing his lips deeper into your cunt as Hyunjin kept licking long drags from your entrance up to your clit.

“Like that. Just like that. Ravish me. Eat me alive.”

You wanna cum so bad but I don’t want this to end yet. God, I wanna fuck you. I wanna fuck you so bad. I can even just finger you if you let me. I just wanna know what you feel like inside. Just once. I don’t care if you just want to use me. I don’t care if you want to abuse me. One chance. I’ll do anything.

He changed gears again and spread your lips apart to fully expose your clit. Now that he found his new target, he started lapping at it as quickly as he could, resolute to tease it until you snapped.

“Please don’t stop!” you pleaded in between your panting, “God, that feels amazing. You’re fucking incredible.”

Anything for you. Your legs are shaking. You’re gonna cum, aren’t you? You’re gonna let me make you cum. 

Hyunjin closed his mouth on your cunt completely while his tongue kept teasing your clit. Once he started moaning into you, it was fucking over for you. You arched into him as the jolt of your orgasm cracked on your back like a whip, and he didn’t cut contact with your skin even for one second until your tremors fully receded into the darkness.

You watched him get up to his feet in slow motion and come dangerously close to your face. He ghosted his cum-stained lips over yours, quite literally mere millimeters away from you, and you almost let yourself kiss him.

“Thank you, Hyunjin,” you emphasized his name which was a little too pleasing to pronounce with a stupid smile, “I’ll call you again when I need you. Would that be okay?”

Not Can I call you; you said you would call him. You were going to call him again. You were going to need him again. Okay? Okay? What did you mean fucking okay, he would sell his fucking soul to be a slave for your pleasure if you asked.

“Any… time.”

To any observer, this would simply be one night of passion that transpired between you, but it left both of you wanting much more. Hyunjin was well aware he wasn’t supposed to do anything of this sort at all costs, but it was knowing that he shouldn’t that made him want to constantly risk it all for you.

He knew he had to have you. Even if it was just for once.

Days passed by after that night, but there was no word from you. His phone wasn’t ringing. The more you weren’t calling, the more Hyunjin found himself thinking about you. He just couldn’t shake this feeling of restlessness growing inside him.

Then one of those nights, he couldn’t take it anymore and let his feet carry him right in front of Room 320. He took a deep breath, knocked on the door, and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

You weren’t answering.

Once that uneasiness devolved into concern, he immediately grabbed his master key to let himself into your room, hoping he wasn’t about to witness something that would leave him sleepless during the daytime, as well. 

He had never let out such a deep sigh of relief upon noticing everything seemed to be in place. Maybe you were just out having dinner or something. He got infuriated at his own impatience and paranoia for a second, but in his defense, he had earned them fair and square.

Then right when he was about to make himself scarce, he noticed something laying on the coffee table. It was an A4 size brown manila envelope with a couple of documents and pictures peeking out of them.

Hyunjin’s job description did not have room for minding anybody else’s business—he was only supposed to fulfill whatever was requested of him, and fulfill it well, so he had every intention of leaving it alone. He really did.

If he wasn’t looking at a picture of Choi San, that is.

Only when he felt the cold metal of the barrel of a gun on the small of his back, did Hyunjin realize he wasn’t alone in the room. Judging by the girth, it had to be a variant of a snubnosed revolver. A .357 Magnum maybe. You had approached him so stealthily that Hyunjin didn’t even realize you came back. 

“It’s very rude to snoop on people, pretty,” your voice blared in his ears as if you were yelling with a speakerphone, “Didn’t your mother ever tell you the story of what curiosity does to the cat?”

«TO BE CONTINUED»

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[seungminstaehyun]

so sick !

pairing: idol!lee heeseung x non-idol!f!reader

genres: fluff﹒crack﹒smallest amount of angst possible

warnings: mature language (nothing new), strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of cheating (its not from any of the mcs), unfunny jokes, the plot takes place during/starting with the release of dimension : dilemma and will end around dimension : answer era, uni!au bc reader is a uni student, reader is literally the sweetest person alive laurv her saur much, heeseung is borderline insane, but so is reader’s entire friend group so whatever, everyone except enhypen are uni students, the only idols are enha, also (for clarification since they are name dropped) — txt exists in this universe without gyu and tyun, more warnings per individual chapter!

feat: the rest of enhypen, ryujin from itzy, sumin from stayc, taehyun and beomgyu from txt, hyunjin and felix from skz

summary: when your boyfriend of almost eight years cheats on you your senior year of university, you decide that you’re done with anything and everything to do with love. that is, until you meet a guy who sings love songs for a living.

status: completed!

started: may 21, 2022

ended: september 13, 2022

— WOWWW CANT BELIEVE MIXED UP IS DONE 🙁🙁 i’m kinda sad but it’s okay!! bc we have this baby here now!! i got the inspiration for this from so sick by ne-yo and also that one song by lauv that heeseung sang on i-land LMFAO

— send an ask to join the taglist!!

profiles: sunshine y/n & friends | 7 overgrown children | the fake fan accounts

zero. happy anniversary, asshole (477)

one. self love >>

two. hypehouseification of lee heeseung

three. double homicide

four. australianized tamed-dashed

five. why is he kinda..

six. pneumonia

seven. partner project in english

eight. happy birthday heeseung

nine. AWOOOOO 🐺

ten. stuck together (1.3k)

eleven. congrats! or sorry that happened!

twelve. can this be us

thirteen. down baddery and stalking

fourteen. ayo hitman bang introduces

fifteen. s(he) be(lie)ve(d)

sixteen. sevendeez nuts

seventeen. #emo #different #notlikeothergirls

eighteen. jungwon my savior

nineteen. sexy starfish

twenty. bring it on the musical

twenty one. simpy mcsimpson

twenty two. peer pressure is a bitch

twenty three. Y/N.EXE HAS CRASHED

twenty four. they grow up so fast

twenty five. october 30th (3.9k)

twenty six. back off.

twenty seven. h-hyunjin being logical ??

twenty eight. coffee again

twenty nine. jongseonglations

thirty. illegal and banned in 27 countries

thirty one. questions

thirty two. *screams quietly*

thirty three. 11/11 11:11

thirty four. stfu glee boy

thirty five. everything is fine

thirty six. worth it (830)

thirty seven. heeseung hate club

thirty eight. seoul uni’s ms. sunshine condoning violence

thirty nine. rest in piece cookie 💔💔😔

forty. let me love you (until you learn to love yourself)

forty one. taylor swift

forty two. he’s insane

forty three. more than friends less than lovers

forty four. thankful for you

forty five. feels so right (1k)

forty six. a pick me boy :/

forty seven. touch some grass

forty eight. life update: it got worse

forty nine. can’t stay away

fifty. no longer bitchless (1.3k)

fifty one. engenes better sleep with one eye open

fifty two. merry christmas my beautiful swan

fifty three. IM GONNA STRANGLE YOU (affectionately)

fifty four. he is human too

fifty five. taehyun be fucking fr

fifty six. twt user enhatranslate

fifty seven. proud gf moment

end. polaroid love

BONUSES

one. anonymous source

two. date night

three. best thread ever

four. y/n outsold floplift

five. ban enhypen_members

six. that feeling when

© yeonjunszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[seungminstaehyun]

Start of Something New - h.jisung

➥ soft dom!Han × sub!Reader

summary: Han finally takes Y/N on a date with him after having a serious sit down talk with Felix.

wc: 15.7k (I'm not sorry lol)

warnings: fem!reader, adult dialogue, sexual content (minors dni!): oral (f & m receiving), fingering, praise, dirty talk, pet names (baby, baby girl, angel, etc), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), multiple orgasms, creampie, marking, Han gets pussy-drunk and gets messy, lowkey lovemaking. I think that’s everything but let me know if I miss anything!

a/n: here is the conclusion to this little mini-series! I hope you all liked it and please look forward to what else I have coming! This is just a little filler piece while I finish up the next chapter of Under Your Skin.

UYS is a modern fantasy AU where Seo Changbin is a tattoo artist with a dark secret that could ruin everything he's worked so hard to build. You can read the first chapter here or join the taglist. Please note: if you've already joined my permanent taglist or my Stray Kids taglist, you will be tagged. This taglist is specifically for this series. This is a series I've worked hard on so I hope this interests you and you look forward to reading it!

As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby

Stray Kids taglist: @cixrosie @hoeforcheol @beomgyusbabygirl @lovestayskzxx @flowerboykun @smhlino @cutiespaghetti @peterparkoure @chubbyanarkiss

Tagging: @songgmingii @j1s-babygirl @chai-papa @klysaibabes @lovethatchanussy @nokacchan @dramaticnobody @youremytearr @replay-by-shinee @myprwttyhan @licklix @fairywriter-oracle @hyunnielix @lolareadaimagines @sirleeknow @chanlovesme @seungminssanrioslut @slutforgirlsandkms @hanasonmi @sstarryreads @lixie-dori @grlkisser331 @elllisaaa

because they all asked hehe :>

Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

Part 1 // Part 2

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

This was NOT how it was supposed to go.

After thinking he'd fucked up again with the party, Han had finally gotten the truth out of you and was ecstatic to learn you felt the same way toward him. Sure, the phone sex may have contributed greatly but he really was glad that you finally admitted what he'd hoped you felt towards him.

He didn't expect you to start ghosting him. Again.

As he tried for the fourth time to call you but it went straight to voice-mail, Han was starting to get worried. Had he crossed another invisible line? Broken some unspoken boundary.

Any other man might have given up, moved on by now.

But Han wasn't any other man.

He knew the solution to this problem and he knew you did, too. But he also knew that only one of you would look that solution in the eye. Only one of you would face it down and get to the bottom of it and unfortunately, it had to be him.

God, why did it have to be him?

As Han hung up on your voice-mail greeting, he groaned and tossed his phone down on his bed. He felt like he was going mad. He stared at the little device looking up at him, your contact info displayed on the little glass screen.

He'd saved your photo from Instagram, one he'd really liked. The same one you'd sent him before the two of you even hooked up.

Sighing, he resolved himself to his fate, running his fingers through his hair. "Okay," he whispered to himself as his thoughts ran at a hundred miles a minute as he planned out exactly how he was going to handle this. It had to be handled delicately but also firmly.

"Brownies? He likes brownies." He was murmuring to himself.

Suddenly, Han snapped his fingers. "No," he shook his head.

"Cheesecake. I need a cheesecake!"

In a mad dash, he darted towards his bed, fumbling as his fingers grabbed at his phone and started looking up bakeries, settling on one down the road with a high rating. He pushed the small phone button and held the device to his ear as he took a couple deep breaths as it rang.

When it finally clicked and someone answered, Han put on a smile despite the fact no one could see him before he spoke.

"Hi! I'd like to order a cheesecake."

After about the third call from Han, you finally turned your phone on Do Not Disturb. It wasn't like you were avoiding him exactly but it felt like you were avoiding him.

After the other night and the very explicit video call, you thought things would be much clearer but they weren't. If anything, you were even more confused about what to do.

After ending the call with Han, you'd fallen asleep relaxed and content but upon waking and looking back at the messages you started to feel the familiar feeling of guilt.

Like you were being disloyal to Felix.

As absurd as you knew it was, you couldn't shake that feeling no matter how hard you tried. It was stuck to you like glue.

You glanced down at the phone looking up at you innocently. Double tapping the screen brought up your notifications.

Four missed calls. You had four missed calls from Han.

Groaning, you grabbed the device and flipped it face down.

Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Felix looked up as you flipped your phone over, eyes glancing between your face and the device. His eyes narrowed as he continued to study your face. He'd seen that look before.

"Okay," he said, setting his own phone down, abandoning Genshin in favor of his best friend. You glanced up, eyes wide as Felix leaned forward. "Talk to me," Felix said. "What's going on?

You shook your head, feigning ignorance before shrugging. Felix pursed his lips. "Don't," he said simply. "I'm not stupid. You've been acting off for weeks. What gives?" His hunch was proven correct as your eyes darted around, focusing on the counter in front of you rather than looking him in the face.

"What's wrong, Y/N? You never shut me out like this."

You shook your head. "It's nothing. Just stress from work."

Felix rolled his eyes. "Did you forget you literally can't lie to me?" he asked, watching you as you shifted in your seat.

"Is this about a guy?" he asked, watching again as your body language gave you away. "Hah! I knew it!"

When you glared at him, he knew he'd hit the nail on the head. "God I'm such an idiot!" Felix laughed, lightly smacking his forehead with his palm. "Of course this is about a guy!"

"Felix," you said in a low tone. Almost like a warning.

"Oh come on, Y/N. I'm your best friend! How long did you think you could keep it from me?" You shook your head. "There's no guy!"

Felix knew you weren't being honest with him. He knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. Yet despite that, he knew better than to push you. If you didn't want to talk about it, there wasn't much he could do except wait until you brought it up.

"Alright," Felix finally said in defeat. "There's no guy."

You leaned back in your seat, staring at Felix.

You knew him just as well as he knew you.

He knew you knew he wouldn't let this go easily.

When you turned to face him, Felix all but smiled with glee.

"Okay," you said shortly. "Hypothetically… let’s say there is a guy."

Felix's grin widened as he turned to face you.

"Hypothetically."

"Yes, so, hypothetically, there's this guy."

Felix nodded, humming as you spoke. "And you like him?"

"Hypothetically," you reminded him. "Ah, yes. Hypothetically. So, what's the issue? He doesn't like you back?"

Felix watched as you made a face. "No, he definitely does." Now he was confused. "So you like him and he likes you, correct?" Felix asked. "Hypothetically," he added quickly. You nodded.

"Then what's the issue?"

"He's one of my friend's friends."

Felix nodded slowly. "Does this friend know you like each other?"

At that, you shook your head. Despite what Felix assumed was your best efforts, he was starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together. There was no hypothetical guy. There was a very real guy you liked but you were putting your friendship first-

"Okay, cut the bullshit," Felix said suddenly, making you look up in surprise. "Just tell me the truth." You sighed heavily. "That's the truth. I like this guy, he likes me, he's friends with one of my friends.

"Which friend?" Felix asked. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Does that matter?" you asked to which Felix shrugged. “I guess not.”

"So you can't date your friend's friend because?"

"We don't just like each other, Lix. We-" you hesitated, glancing up at him. Felix motioned for you to continue. "You what?"

"We slept together."

The words came out and surprised not only Felix but yourself.

"Oh," Felix responded. You quickly explained further.

"But we didn't meet through our friend! We met somewhere else."

Felix nodded as he started to understand. "But your friend doesn't know this?"

You shook your head, looking down at your hands in your lap.

"Do you plan on telling your friend?"

You shook your head again. "And why not?"

"Cause they'll be mad at me."

Felix let out a sigh, leaning forward to take one of your hands in his.

"If they're really your friend, they'll understand Y/N. Things happen. This guy, if you met him without your friend's help, then he's supposed to be in your life. Your friend can't be mad at you for that. It's not like you sought out their friend to sleep with him."

Felix rubbed the back of your hand soothingly.

You heard his phone buzz on the counter top. He grumbled and grabbed the device. "Shit," he cursed as he typed quickly, still holding your hand with his free one.

"Everything okay?" you asked as he pocketed his phone. "Yeah. It's just work. I've gotta go," he said, standing up. You nodded solemnly, clearly still uncertain of what you should do.

Felix took both of your hands, giving them a firm squeeze before leaning in to press a light kiss to your forehead. "I mean it, Y/N," he said softly. "Your friend can't fault you for meeting someone outside of their influence, let alone falling for that person."

You nodded again silently. Felix reached up to cup your cheek, caressing your cheek softly.

"And if he gets mad at you for that, he's not really your friend."

Your eyes looked up to meet his, a look of mild shock in them. Felix offered no further explanation, simply gave you a wink before he made for the door. "I'll see you later," he called to you, hand on the doorknob. You turned to look at him.

"Felix-" you started but he pulled the door open. "Later, okay?"

And just like that, Felix exited your apartment and you were suddenly alone with your phone again. 'Damn it.'

You turned back to the counter top, resting your forearms on the cool granite surface. 'Did he know? He couldn't, could he?' You sighed, dropping your head to rest in your arms. "There's no way he knows, right? He couldn't possibly know."

Sighing, you resolved yourself to checking your phone. You had a new unopened text from Han. You opened the message and allowed your eyes to scan the screen as you read.

Hanji: I'm gonna handle this. Don't worry. I'm not giving up that easily. So don't think ghosting me is gonna push me away. I like you a lot Y/N and when I like someone, I don't give up. I'm stubborn and dumb, you know this. So just wait for me. I'm gonna fix this.

You reread the text over and over, wondering just what he was going to handle. What he planned on fixing.

"What is he talking about?" you whispered as you stared at the screen, wracking your brain for any possible answer.

"What is he up to?"

Han glanced around the apartment. He'd worked from home that day so in between calls and paperwork, he'd managed to clean the entire apartment from top to bottom. He'd done all the laundry, the dishes, cleaned the bathrooms, the floors, the windows, even wiped down the appliances. He'd scrubbed the counter tops and even wiped down all the light switch plates.

He'd dusted every inch he could find, washed the cushion covers, cleaned between the cushions, everything he could think of. As he was finishing up, the buzzer had gone off and shortly after, the cheesecake he'd special ordered was delivered and sitting on the counter, perched atop a cake stand and covered.

Felix was due home any moment and Han was more than nervous.

He knew he had to talk to Felix since you were adamantly against telling Felix but if this was the only way to get you to stop panicking and freaking out, Han would do it. He would do anything if it meant you'd stop worrying and just focus on what was happening between the two of you.

He’d never felt this way before. Not the girl he dated in high school, not the random girl he’d had a situationship with.

Han ran his fingers through his hair, trying to decide what he would say to Felix when he arrived. Unfortunately, he didn’t get much time to think as the front door opened, making him jump and look up as his roommate entered the apartment.

Felix looked up and smiled at him.

“Hey! I didn’t think you’d be home already,” Felix said as he kicked his shoes off.

He looked extremely excited. “I got the stuff to make cookies tonight!”

Han watched as Felix entered the apartment and set the black plastic bag on the counter before setting his work backpack on one of the stools and shrugged off his jacket. “You wanna help?”

Felix’s question was meant to be harmless and Han knew Felix liked to bond over baking. Han wasn’t very good at it but he still liked to keep his roommate company while the latter was in the kitchen.

Han glanced down and picked at the nail polish on his fingers. A bad habit he’d picked up whenever he got too anxious. “Actually,” he started before looking to find Felix already looking at him as he emptied the bag.

“I have to talk to you.”

Felix’s smile fell. “That sounds serious,” the blond said as he tucked the bag away with the others and turned back around to face Han.

“I’m not in trouble, am I?” He asked jokingly. Han smiled, letting out a small laugh before shaking his head. “No,” he answered before his smile fell and he swallowed thickly. “But I might be.”

Felix’s smile immediately shifted to a look of concern as he moved around the kitchen counter. “What’s wrong?” He asked as he approached Han who directed him to sit before moving over to the covered cake pan and picking up the whole thing to move it to the counter.

“What’s this?” Felix asked as Han set it in front of him. “It’s a pre-apology,” Han explained as he moved to the cabinet that housed the plates, grabbing one and then grabbing a fork and moved back to where Felix sat, setting both the plate and the fork in front of his friend.

“It’s already cut,” Han explained as he stared at the cover of the cake pan and not at his friend. Felix looked positively confused now, looking from the cake pan to Han and back.

“Are you going to explain what you’re pre-apologizing for?” Felix asked, watching as Han nodded.

“Yeah uh,” Han said softly, his voice cracking slightly, forcing him to clear his throat. “I’ve done something. I don’t think it’s terrible,” he started. “But I’m still not sure how you’re going to react.”

Felix looked up at Han, keeping his face as neutral as possible.

Han finally sighed and took hold of the knob at the top of the cake pan cover, lifting it and revealing a very professional looking cheesecake.

Felix had to hold in a laugh as he looked at it.

“Where did you get this?” he asked. Han nibbled on his bottom lip as he stared at the cheesecake. “The bakery down the street,” he answered softly. Felix chuckled again before looking back at the cheesecake.

It was only then that he noticed there was something written on top. “They used some kind of fruit spread gel for the writing,” Han admitted. “I’m pretty sure they’ve never had anyone order something like this before.”

Felix’s eyes widened as he read the words scrawled across the top of the cheesecake in a very pretty font. Very curly and loopy letters spelled out the words ‘sorry I slept with your best friend.’

Upon reading it, Felix burst into a fit of laughter, falling back against the back of the stool. “Dude!” He shouted, head thrown back. “Are you serious?”

Han nodded, heart racing as he realized maybe your fears were founded. Maybe you were right and this was a really bad idea.

Until Felix continued to laugh, shaking his head. “I knew it.”

Han’s eyes widened as he observed his roommate. Was he… smiling?

“I suspected something was going on between you two,” Felix continued as he picked up the cake serving spatula and placed a piece of cheesecake on the plate before picking up the fork and digging in.

Han was utterly perplexed. “What? How?”

“The way she absolutely refused to come over here and meet you. The way you both acted at the party that night,” he said, taking a bite of cheesecake and almost sighing in contentment. “Oh that’s heavenly,” he said through a mouthful of cheesecake.

“Might wanna get yourself a piece before I eat all of this.”

Han moved quickly, grabbing another plate and fork before serving himself a piece of the cheesecake and taking a bite. Felix was right. It was heavenly. The bakery had outdone themself on short notice.

“She must have realized before she came to the party,” Felix continued, looking up from his plate to his friend. “Maybe when I showed her your instagram.” Han nodded thoughtfully.

“Oh man,” Felix said, shaking his head as the laughter started again.

“I really can’t believe this.”

Han set his fork down. “I really am sorry,” he said solemnly. Felix shook his head.

“Don’t be,” he said seriously. “I’ve been trying to hook the two of you up since before we moved in together.” It was Han’s turn to laugh this time.

“Wait, really?” He asked, covering his mouth to shield the huge bite of cheesecake he’d just taken. Felix nodded, laughing maniacally. “I figured the two of you would get on really well and I guess in a way, my feeling was right.”

Han scoffed but couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. Knowing Felix had been gunning for the two of you the whole time made him feel a lot better. “So you really aren’t mad?” Han asked, heart fluttering when Felix shook his head again.

“Nah, honestly? You two would make such a good couple,” Felix said, cutting off a piece of cake with his fork before looking up. “If that’s what you want, of course.”

Han tilted his head to the side, aware of the fact he might look like a puppy being called by his name for the first time. “If you want to date her, I’m perfectly fine with it,” Felix explained.

“But if you just want to sleep with one another, I’m fine with that too.” Felix shrugged his shoulders, taking the bite of his piece.

He suddenly pointed at Han with the tines of his fork.

“But if you hurt her, I will hurt you,” he warned the brunet. Han smiled widely. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Han said as he finished his cheesecake. Felix nodded, shifting in his seat and taking another slice of cheesecake.

“I’m also going to assume ‘Baby’ was Y/N this whole time?” Felix asked suddenly. Han nodded. “Yeah.”

Felix nodded slowly. “I kind of figured,” he chuckled.

“Like I said, I don’t care if you date or just fuck but if you hurt her, you know the consequences,” Felix continued.

“Also, one more thing,” he added, sitting up suddenly, making Han jump from the sudden movement. “Please do not fuck her while i’m here,” he pleaded.

“At least warn me if you’re gonna bring her back here. That’s my best friend after all.”

Han nodded quickly, moving to set his plate and fork in the sink. “I’ll clean that later,” he said as he moved towards the door to put on his shoes.

“Wait, where are you going?” Felix asked as Han grabbed his jacket and keys.

“I’ve got a girl to ask out,” Han said with a smile, one Felix returned.

“Go get her,” he said with a wink.

“I’ll just stay here and test the quality of the rest of this cheesecake.”

You fished your keys out of your bag as you approached your door, ignoring the incessant buzzing of your phone. ‘Felix is persistent today,’ you thought as you finally got your door unlocked and let yourself into your apartment.

Once inside and your shoes removed, you finally pulled your phone out to see what your best friend had to say only to find it hadn’t been your best friend blowing up your phone at all. It was Han.

Hanji: I hope you’re home right now cause i’m coming over.

Hanji: we need to talk and i’m not doing it over text or voice call

Hanji: this needs to happen face to face

Hanji: and don’t bother trying to ignore these messages, Felix told me your schedule. I know when you get off work.

Your heart started to pound.

‘What does he mean Felix told him? Why would Felix do that?’

You set your phone down and hurried through your apartment to your room to change quickly out of your work attire.

You’d just managed to get your blouse unbuttoned before you heard the ringing of your doorbell. “Shit,” you hissed, quickly rebuttoning the blouse.

You weren’t going to have time to change.

Clumsily, you stumbled through your apartment, making sure your clothes were on properly in your haste. Once you were certain you were properly clothed, you walked over to the door as a series of knocks rang out.

Turning on the camera feed you were greeted by the sight of Han standing outside your door. He was dressed in a black button down and a pair of black slacks. ‘He must have not changed after work,’ you thought as you prepared yourself to face him.

Pulling open the door drew his attention and he turned his head to look at you.

A beat of silence fell over the two of you as you both stood there, staring at each other. Finally Han cleared his throat. “You look nice,” he noted, his voice soft. You fought back the urge to smile, nodding towards him.

“You, too.” Han wasn’t as good at hiding his emotions, a smile forming before he dropped it, clearing his throat again. “Could I come in? I really wanna talk and I don’t want to do this where your neighbors might see or hear.”

Your heart hammered in your chest.

You knew you had two options. You could let him in and deal with the consequences of that decision or you could turn him away and possibly never hear from him again.

The choice was made for you as you stood aside and motioned for him to enter.

Once he stepped inside, you shut the self locking door and turned to watch as he moved further into the living room. Seeing him in your apartment again was surreal, especially after learning that he was your best friend’s roommate.

“Do you want something to drink?”

Your mouth spoke before you had the chance to think about it. Han turned to look at you.

“Just water is fine.”

You moved to the kitchen to get him his request, ignoring the way his eyes followed your movements.

You grabbed one of the bottles of water from the fridge before shutting the door and turning to move around the kitchen island to give it to him.

Han thanked you, taking the bottle but didn’t open it. Instead, he held onto it for a couple seconds before sighing and setting it on the counter before taking your hand and leading you over to the couch, pulling you down to sit with him.

“I don’t know how to say this delicately so I’m just gonna come out and say it,” he said, keeping your hand in his, moving his other hand to incase yours.

“I talked to Felix.”

You looked up from his hands to his face. ‘He what?’

“Now, before you get mad,” Han said quickly, sensing you were about to explode. “I did it because I’m tired of this back and forth thing between us. I wanted you to not have to worry about what Felix would think. I wanted to get how I feel about you off my chest to him,” he explained.

“So you went behind my back?”

Han shook his head. “This was about me coming clean to my roommate about my feelings for his best friend.”

“So he doesn’t know we slept together?”

Han shook his head. “No, he does.”

You pulled your hand from his and stood up.

“God damn it, Han!” you cursed as you started to walk away, wanting to put some distance between you. Han followed, ignoring your want for space.

He clearly wasn’t done talking.

“Okay, maybe I should have talked to you first but I knew how you’d react. You’d tell me no and that it’s a bad idea-”

“Because it is!”

You were upset. Felix must be so angry with you and that’s why he hasn’t messaged you since lunchtime.

How dare Han disregard your worries and feelings.

A frown crossed Han’s features as he stared at you.

“It wasn’t a bad idea,” he answered. You scoffed, turning away as you continued to pace.

“It wasn’t! Felix doesn’t even care!”

You stopped in your tracks and slowly turned to face Han as he moved around the kitchen counter to where you stood. He took both your hands in his.

“He’s not mad,” he repeated.

“In fact, he’s been trying to set us up this whole time.”

“He what?” you asked incredulously.

Han nodded, an amused smile forming on his face.

“That’s what he told me. That’s why he’s been trying to introduce us. He’d hoped that by introducing us, I’d forget about ‘the girl that ghosted me’ and you’d move on from whatever guy was tormenting you. Of course he didn’t realize that we,” he said, motioning between the two of you, “were those people.”

You stared at Han, searching his expression for any hint of dishonesty but found nothing. Only bright innocent eyes staring back at you.

“He really doesn’t care?” you asked softly.

Han nodded. “He wants us together. He only asks that we keep any mushy stuff to a minimum around him. I’m also supposed to warn him if I bring you home.”

You let out a laugh, quickly covering your mouth with your hand. “Sorry,” you said softly. “He doesn’t have to worry about that. If anything, we’ll just come back here,” you murmured.

“W-we will?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I don’t have a roommate.”

A smile spread slowly across Han’s face as the meaning of your words set in.

“So does this mean…”

You nodded again. “I guess since Felix knows, there’s nothing else keeping us from seeing each other,” you added.

Han let out a heavy sigh before pulling you into a tight hug. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that,” he whispered into your shoulder. "You're squeezing me too tight," you gasped. Han quickly loosened his grip but didn't let go entirely.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I'm just so excited."

You chuckled at his enthusiasm, finally allowing yourself to relax in his hold. "If I asked you on a date, would you say yes?" Han asked suddenly, making you chuckle again.

"I don't know," you joked, pulling back to look at him.

"I'd have to think about that."

Han's expression looked mildly confused and worried for a split second until he noticed the mischievous smirk on your face. He playfully shook you.

"Yah!" he whined. "You had me going for a second!"

You cackled loudly at his pouts.

"I'm sorry," you cooed, taking his face in your hands.

"Would a date make up for it?"

Han pouted again. "Well now I don't know if I wanna go on a date with you!" he huffed, puffing up his cheeks indignantly. You merely shrugged. "Okay," you replied, starting to pull away.

"Wait!" Han shouted, grabbing you and pulling you back.

"I do! I wanna go on a date with you."

You smiled sweetly at him. "Then let's go on a date," you replied.

"I just need to do something first," you added, giving him a quick peck before escaping his grasp and moving to collect your phone from the counter as he followed.

"You can't just kiss me and then dip like that," he whined.

You ignored him and unlocked the screen with Han behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder. "Whatcha doin?" He asked, hands moving to your waist as you opened your text chat with Felix and started typing.

"Thanking Felix," you answered. Han pressed his lips against your neck briefly. "What for?" His voice was soft and full of genuine curiosity. "I wanna thank him for not being upset with us."

You: thank you. truly

Felix's response was almost instantaneous.

Felix: I told you I wouldn't be mad. I'm not. I'm actually glad it's Han.

Felix: I wanted to hook the two of you up since before he and I moved in together but the timing was never right

Felix: at least it all worked out in the end, right?

You: yeah, I guess it did 😌

Felix: just pls promise that you guys will be smart and use protection and not fuck in the apartment while I'm there 🤢

You: okay dad 🙄

Felix: I'm serious about the protection thing. I'm too young to be an uncle

You heard Han scoff lightly in your ear. "He's acting like he doesn't have an older sister.” You laughed at his remark as you typed a reply.

You: i’m on bc, you know this but we’ll be careful. I promise

After sending the text, you set your phone back down and turned around in Han’s hold, placing your arms over his shoulders and playing with his hair. “So when are we going out?” You asked, trying not to smile as he made an exaggerated thinking face.

“Well, there’s one of those pop up fairs coming to the area in about a week. We could go there?” Han asked. You nodded slowly. “On the condition we don’t go on any roller coasters,” you said. Han nodded before leaning in to steal a kiss.

“Agreed. I’m not ready to die.”

Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. The entire week leading up to the day, Han was nervously awaiting for a text from you saying you’d changed your mind. Luckily, that text never came but it didn’t ease his nerves one bit.

Not to mention that Felix was constantly asking him what they planned to do on their date. Han had no problem telling his roommate and was thankful that Felix was there to reassure him that the plan was good and that you would love it.

He also offered a few tips about what you liked and what you definitely didn’t like. Han wondered how Felix knew all this but then again, you were his best friend and had been for a while. Felix had received a picture from Y/N trying to figure out what to wear and more than once, Han had tried to sneak a glance at Felix’s phone as the latter gave his opinion.

Felix refused to let Han know what you planned to wear because he wanted Han to be surprised.

“It’s better if you just see.”

So, if Han hadn’t been nervous before, he certainly was now as he dug through his closet. He’d pulled out several articles of clothing but nothing seemed to be appropriate enough for a first date. The only thing he could count on was the leather jacket he’d set near the head of his bed and tried to base an outfit around that.

He was so engrossed in what he was doing, he didn’t even hear his door open or Felix enter the room.

“What are you doing?”

Han turned to find Felix standing in the doorway, staring at the mess that coated his bed and the floor with an amused smile.

“My date with Y/N is today,” Han said quickly, turning back to his closet. Felix chuckled, folding his arms over his chest as he watched as Han continued to push items aside.

“Okay. So why are you panicking?” Felix asked as he walked further into the room, looking around at the mess.

“Because I want to impress her,” Han answered as he pulled out a different jacket and looked over it.

Felix looked down at the bed and grabbed a pair of black jeans.

“Want some help?”

Han turned to look at his roommate as the latter picked up the leather jacket he had set aside. “I thought I’d wear that,” he said as he turned back to the clothes still hanging in his closet. Felix glanced around at the clothes laying on the bed, still on the hangers before looking up at the open closet.

He moved around the edge of the bed and grabbed a pair of black jeans. “Here,” he said softly, handing both items to Han and starting to look through the shirts.

Han held up the black fitted jeans and then looked up as Felix pulled out a shirt, only to shake his head and place it back on the rack and continue looking.

“Y/N doesn’t really care too much about this kind of stuff,” Felix said as he looked through Han’s clothes. “She’s really simple.”

Han smiled to himself. “For someone who doesn’t care too much about fashion, she always seems to look good,” he remarked, making Felix smile.

“She used to be really awful at it, actually.”

Han looked up quickly as Felix pulled out another shirt. It was a plain white tee with a splash of color across the torso at an angle. “She lived exclusively in hoodies and sweats during college,” Felix explained as he handed Han the shirt.

“It wasn’t until senior year that she broke out of that phase and started dressing up and finding her style,” he added with a smile. “She still has trouble from time to time but she has me to help her out.”

Han returned the smile, looking at the shirt before looking back up at his roommate. “And it would seem I also have you to help me.”

Once the outfit had been chosen, Felix helped Han put the clothes on the bed away, handing them back to Han so he could hang them up properly in his closet.

“What was Y/N like in college?” Han asked as he took another pair of jeans from Felix to put away. Felix snorted, no doubt remembering some fond memories.

“She was kind of annoying. She was one of those girls who only cared about grades,” Felix answered, handing over more clothes. “Not at all like the people I usually hung around.”

Han tilted his head. “How did you two become friends?”

Felix looked up as he handed Han another hanger. “We actually met on the South Lawn,” he answered. “She was laying on a blanket reading by herself and I was playing frisbee with Changbin and Hyunjin when I tripped over her.”

Han suddenly whipped around.

“Whoa, wait. You tripped over her? Like over her body?”

Felix nodded, laughing as he remembered the incident.

“Yeah, well, her legs,” he answered.

“It was during finals before spring break. We’d all just finished our finals and were spending the rest of the day relaxing and hanging out. Y/N was reading some book with a title about as long as my arm.”

Han smiled as he tried to picture you laying on a blanket under a tree or something similar, a book in your hands as you read and enjoyed the weather.

“She actually picked a spot quite out of the way but I still somehow managed to stumble over her and injure myself.”

Han watched as Felix ran his fingers through his hair before continuing his story.

“I expected her to be condescending or something. We all knew her as that studious, nerdy girl but she was surprisingly sweet. Not at all like her reputation. She immediately asked if I was okay and started looking at my ankle which I later learned I twisted tripping over her ankle.”

Felix shook his head as he chuckled.

“Poor thing, her ankle bruised and swelled up for a week. She had to use one of those scooter things to rest her leg on and wheel around,” Felix explained as Han listened in fascination.

“We became friends shortly after that and through me she met Hyunjin and Changbin. She sort of became our baby in a way. I remember the first time we took her to a party.”

Han sat on the edge of his bed. “What was that like?”

Felix looked at Han and took a seat next to him. “Stressful,” he answered.

“We agreed that we wouldn’t hover over her and let her blossom and maybe make some new friends but when one of the upperclassmen tried to give her a random drink and she almost accepted it, Changbin had to step in and tell the guy to piss off. From then on, one of us was always by her side at parties until we felt she had learned well enough who to trust and who not to trust.”

Han tried to picture you as the meek, timid creature Felix was describing but he couldn’t do it. He could only see you as the strong, confident woman he’d come to know.

“Did she date in college?” Han asked suddenly, surprising himself and felix.

Felix shook his head. “Not exactly.” Han tilted his head in curiosity.

Felix sighed and turned to face his roommate a little more. “Okay, I’m going to tell you this once and then I never want to hear about it again,” he explained. Han nodded quickly, excited for a glimpse into your past.

“Remember at our housewarming party? Ryujin thought Y/N and I had hooked up in the past?”

Han’s smile fell.

He remembered that night quite vividly despite the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. His mind was reeling with what Felix was about to tell him.

“Well, it’s partially true,” Felix continued. “We’ve never had sex.”

Han relaxed after Felix’s admission.

“But that doesn’t mean we haven’t… fooled around.”

And just like that, Han’s stomach tightened in knots.

“F-fooled around?”

Felix nodded. “Nothing crazy,” he reassured Han. “It was when we were still getting to know each other. There were a lot of new feelings, things she’d never really experienced before.”

Han listened to Felix’s explanation in silence, only nodding occasionally.

“What have you guys done?” Han asked, not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“We’ve kissed. A lot actually. There were more than a few times I walked her back to her dorm and it ended with us making out in her room. It never went any further than kissing and getting handsy,” Felix said as he glanced at Han.

“I’ve also never seen her entirely naked.”

Han perked up.

“Really?” Felix shook his head. “I’ve only ever seen her in her underwear,” he answered. The two fell silent for a moment.

“When did you two stop?” Han asked finally.

Felix furrowed his brow as he thought back. “Probably about a week before she and Changbin hooked up,” Felix replied. “Which is probably why I felt so weird about them sleeping together,” he added.

“Whatever was going on between us ended amicably and then she and Changbin just… yeah. It felt weird but they agreed that it was a one time deal and surprisingly things didn’t feel awkward as a group.” Han nodded slowly.

“And you’re really okay with this?” Han asked, meeting his roommate’s gaze.

“Me and Y/N?”

Felix nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “Y/N is my best friend and sure we have a short history but it was never going to be more with us. She deserves someone who I know is good,” he answered.

“I’ve always felt like the two of you would be really good for each other,” he added.

“I can’t think of anyone I’d want her with more than you.”

Han smiled fondly at his friend’s words and glanced down at the clothes still in his hands. He stood up quickly.

“Well, I’d better get ready then. Don’t want to keep your best friend waiting.”

Felix smiled and stood up as well, moving to the door before turning to look back at Han one last time. “And I mean it,” he said suddenly.

“You hurt her, I hurt you,” Felix warned, pointing at Han with a serious expression. Han nodded. “I like her too much to hurt her,” he answered.

“She’s more precious to me than that.”

Felix nodded nonchalantly. “Good answer,” he said with a smirk, exiting the room and leaving Han to change and get ready for his date.

Saturday finally came and you were thankful Han had suggested Saturday instead of Friday. You had to run some errands in the morning and had managed to get everything done. Han had planned to come get you in the evening, and after a shower, applying some makeup, and putting on an outfit that you totally didn’t pick out while on Facetime with Felix, you were ready.

The buzzer went off and you ran to check the camera feed. It was Han on the other side, which made sense as you weren’t waiting on anyone else.

You took a deep breath and turned the knob, pulling the door open. Han smiled at you and looked you over quickly. “You ready?” He asked, clearly having a hard time containing his excitement.

You nodded. “Yeah, almost. Come in.”

Han crossed the threshold, letting the door shut behind him as you moved to grab the tiny clutch purse you’d paired with your outfit. He continued to watch you as you made sure you had everything you needed. 'Keys, money, phone, lip gloss...'

Once you were certain you had everything, you quickly slipped on your comfortable high tops and announced you were ready.

Han opened the door and let you walk through first before following, making sure your door shut. He even gave the knob a little jiggle to make sure it was locked.

The ride down to the lobby was quiet until Han broke the silence by clearing his throat.

“You get all your errands done earlier?”

You could almost see him mentally scolding himself for asking that. It was sort of cute in a way. You nodded, fighting the urge to smile.

“Yeah,” you answered. “Shopping is done for the week.”

Han chuckled, tilting his head. “I usually do all my shopping on Sundays,” he admitted. You nodded in response. “Most people do,” you answered.

“I do it on Saturday so I don’t feel rushed on Sundays to get things done.”

Han blinked, staring at you silently before finally speaking.

“Holy shit. I think you might be onto something there.”

Your cheeks burned as the elevator reached the lobby and the doors opened. Han led you out of the lift and past the security guard. Outside, parked in one of the visitor spaces was a black Jeep Renegade with tinted windows.

You’d never seen his car before and it dawned on you that there was probably a lot you didn’t know about Han. How could you anyway? You’d slept together one time and then ghosted the poor guy.

You decided you would have to make up for that and now you could.

Han opened your door for you, giving you a cheeky grin. You thanked him and climbed in, looking around the interior as he jogged around the front end of the car and got into the driver’s seat.

You buckled your seatbelt as he turned the engine on. “We’re gonna park as close as I can,” he announced as he put the car into drive and pulled out to follow the flow of traffic. “But we will probably still have to walk.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “More time we get to spend together,” you said simply, looking away to look out the window. You didn’t see the way Han’s lips twitched, fighting a smile.

The drive was mostly silent until you couldn’t handle it anymore and flipped on the stereo. “What kind of music are you listening to?” You asked as you did, not giving Han a chance to react as he tried to focus on driving.

A song came on that you weren’t expecting.

“Is…” you trailed off. “Is this Shakira?” You asked, looking up at him. He looked panicked. “I like some of her music,” he admitted, making you laugh. “What? This is a good song!” He retorted as your laughter subsided.

“I didn’t say it was bad,” you said, shaking your head as you fought the giggles.

“I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Han seemed to relax, his fingers on the wheel loosening a little as he sat back in his seat. “You can change it if you want,” he murmured, making you fight the urge to giggle again. It wasn't like you were teasing him. You genuinely did not expect to hear Shakira when you turned the stereo on.

“I’ll leave it. See what comes on next.”

Han whined as you laughed. “Yah! Don’t tease me!”

The ride wasn’t very long and upon arriving near the fairgrounds, you could see that the roads had been blocked for all motor traffic and a uniformed official was redirecting everyone.

Han followed the line of cars and turned into a parking garage.

Finding a space proved to be a lot harder than either of you expected but near the top of the garage, almost eight floors up, you finally spotted someone pulling out of the spot. Han waited patiently, allowed the car to pass before finally pulling smoothly into the spot and parking the car.

“Finally!” He groaned as he shut the car off. You giggled to yourself as you released yourself from the confines of your seatbelt and turned to open the door.

Han stopped you quickly.

“Wait!” he said loudly, making you jump and turn to face him. “What?” you asked, panicking. Han got out and hurried around the back of the car to open your door for you. You fought the urge to both roll your eyes and smirk.

“You didn’t have to open it again, you know.”

Han shrugged his shoulders, a smile playing at his lips. “I wanted to.”

The two of you headed through the dim parking garage towards the elevators and you were able to beat Han to press the button, making him pout slightly. “You don’t have to do everything!” you reminded him. He grumbled about wanting to and you decided to let him do things his way. It was kind of cute how much he was trying to impress you like you weren’t already smitten with him.

But he didn’t need to know that just yet.

The ride down to the ground level was quick and uneventful but you took the time to look over Han to see what he’d chosen to wear. He had on a pair of black fitted jeans tucked into black boots. He wore a white tee with a splash of color across the midsection with the hem tucked into his pants showing off the black leather belt he’d worn. Over the shirt, he sported a moto style black leather jacket over a gray zip up hoodie.

He looked incredible and you suddenly felt very self conscious. It wasn’t like you didn’t dress up either but Han made everything he wore look like it came from some kind of catalog. It was impressive and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t swooning even more.

Once on street level, Han boldly took your hand in his and led you towards the entrance to the fairgrounds. It wasn’t a long walk but it was still enough time for the two of you to talk a bit.

“So we agreed, no roller coasters, right?” Han asked as the two of you walked, hand in hand. You tore your attention from the way your hand felt in his. The warmth was nice as your hands were a bit chilly due to the evening air.

“Right,” you confirmed with a nod. “Those things are terrifying enough at amusement parks but at pop up fairs? There’s no way I'd ever get on one of those.”

The sounds from the fair started to reach you as you approached. The screams of delight from riders on the various amusement rides, the excited yells of children no doubt urging their parents to hurry up.

You subconsciously squeezed Han’s hand and he gave you a reassuring squeeze.

“Crowds make you nervous too?” He asked. You nodded wordlessly.

Han smiled as he led the way, slowing his pace just a little.

“Me too.”

You looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “I struggle a lot with my social anxiety,” he admitted. To say you were shocked would be an understatement.

“Social anxiety?” You asked, trying to confirm you heard him correctly.

He nodded. “Yeah, doesn’t seem like it?”

You shook your head.

“With how well you fit in at that house party, I never would have guessed.”

Han smiled, letting out a small huff of a laugh. “Yeah. Alcohol helps with the setting but only if I have a couple. Any more than that, and it gets really bad.”

You nodded in response. “I know how you feel. Drinking socially has always been difficult to find a good cut off point. When I’m alone it’s not as bad but in a group setting, I never know when to cut off because of the anxiety.

You arrived at the entrance to the fair, joining the line to get tickets.

“Look,” he said, drawing your attention. “I know we agreed on no rollercoasters,”

“But what about ferris wheels?”

You followed his line of sight and saw the massive steel contraption looming over the fairgrounds. You shook your head.

“No. No way,” you answered.

You had a thing about heights and this was one of the biggest ferris wheels you’d ever seen. Han pouted briefly. You tore your gaze from his face and noticed another ride in the distance and came up with an idea.

“Two please,” Han said suddenly and you realized the line had moved quickly and you were already at the entrance. He paid the fee and thanked the cashier as she gave you your wristbands. Once inside, Han helped you put yours on and you helped him put his on before looking around.

It was certainly a sight to see. Lots of stalls had been set up with various purposes. Stalls for food, games, and even a few information stalls lined invisible alleys, the bright lights pulling the eye and hopefully a few patrons.

“So, where to first?” Han asked, looking around before looking at you.

“Shall we just walk around?” you asked. “Get a feel for what’s going on?”

Han nodded, holding out his hand for you to take.

You took it without hesitation and followed his lead as he started down one of the many alleys lined with stalls. You kept your head on a swivel, turning every direction in an effort to see everything the fair had to offer.

“I didn’t realize it would be so busy,” Han said softly as you reached a small crowded area. He looked around for an easy way through but found none. “Let’s just go around,” he offered but you weren’t easily swayed.

Squeezing his hand a little tighter, you carefully started through the crowd, calling out “excuse me’s” and “coming through’s.” Before long, you’d both made it through the crowd and ended up on the other side. “That wasn’t too bad, right?” You asked, looking towards Han who shook his head as if shaking whatever thoughts he was having away. “I guess not,” he chuckled.

“Oh look!” you exclaimed, your eye being caught by a stall nearby.

“Corn dogs!”

After dragging Han over and looking over the menu, you settled on your orders and waited patiently for the corndogs to be made. You’d chosen to get frozen lemonade slushies to drink. Yours was strawberry while Han’s was blackberry.

“How is it?” You asked, nodding towards his lemonade. He looked down at the cup and shrugged. “It’s alright,” he answered. You grabbed his cup and leaned in to take a sip. It was pretty good. Han stared at you with wide eyes until you offered yours for him to try. He took a sip and almost groaned.

“That’s so much better,” he whined. You laughed before grabbing his and handing him yours. “Here,” you said. Han shook his head, trying to take the blackberry one back but you held it away. “It’s fine,” you reassured him. “I actually like this flavor.”

Han sighed, silently admitting defeat before taking a sip of the strawberry lemonade again. “Thank you,” he said, giving you a smile.

Your order number was called and Han quickly handed you the strawberry drink, moving to grab your corndogs. With your food in hand, the two of you walked away from the stall, finding a stone planter to sit on and sat next to each other.

The corn dogs were amazing. You’d chosen a half hotdog, half mozzarella corn dog with panko crumbs. You added a sprinkling of powdered cheese and garlic sauce on it. Han had gone for a mozzarella one with sugar on the outside and a sweet chili sauce.

You took a bite of your corn dog, nearly moaning at the taste but felt that might not be appropriate. Han watched your expression with an amused look before taking a bite of his own corn dog. It was your turn to watch him hold back whatever sound he was about to make.

“I haven’t had a good corn dog in a long time,” he said, covering his mouth as he spoke through a mouthful of food. You nodded. “It's been way too long.”

The two of you sat as you ate and sipped on your drinks.

“You want to try it before I eat it all?” Han asked, holding up his mostly finished corn dog. You nodded. He held it up for you to take but you had a better idea.

You grabbed his wrist, bringing the corn dog closer and took a bite.

He was right. It was really good. The sugar paired with the cheese and the chili sauce was a good combination. Han watched as you licked your lips and nodded. “Oh, that’s really good,” you admitted.

Han reached up suddenly.

“You got a little something,” he said softly. You held still as he used his thumb to wipe the corner of your lips. You watched as he brought his thumb to his own lips and licked. “Chili sauce,” he said with a smirk. Your heart was racing and your core was suddenly hot.

‘Why did he have to do that right here? Right now?’

You cleared your throat and picked up your lemonade, taking a long sip. Han finished his corn dog and got up to toss the trash away before returning to sit beside you, much closer than he was before.

You tried to focus on eating your corn dog but the heat radiating off his body made focusing difficult. Not to mention the way he was watching you eat. You turned to look at him, meeting his gaze. “Did you want to try it?” You asked, holding up the corn dog. He shook his head. “Nope.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why are you watching me then?” You asked in a low voice. Han’s smile morphed into a smirk. “No reason,” he said, obviously lying.

“If you want a taste, you just have to-”

Your words were cut off when Han suddenly pressed his lips to yours. You stiffened briefly before leaning into the kiss. You felt his tongue swipe over your bottom lip but he suddenly pulled away.

You look at him confused. He only smiled more.

“That garlic sauce is really good.”

Your cheeks burned.

‘That’s not what I meant when I said taste,’ you thought to yourself trying to hide your furiously blushing face as you took another sip of the cool lemonade slushie.

When you finally finished your food, Han stood up and took your trash to toss it before returning to your side. “Come here,” he said, holding his hand out. You took it, allowing him to pull you to your feet and lead you away from the area.

The two of you arrived in another alley where the stalls were only games.

Han continued to walk slowly down the way, still holding your hand in his warm one until he stopped, looking at one particular stall. You followed his gaze and noticed it was one of those ball throwing games where you had to knock down so many of the glass bottles.

A classic but also the hardest of carnival games. “That’s really cute,” he said, pointing at a huge plushie hanging from the ceiling of the stall. It was one of the cutest teddy bears you’d seen in a long time. “It is really cute.”

Your comment didn’t go unnoticed by Han who let go of your hand to walk towards the stall. “Han,” you said quickly, following him. “These games are a scam, you don’t have to!” you said under your breath as you both approached the counter, stopping beside him.

The attendant had already launched into his sales pitch and you sighed in defeat as Han purchased the max amount of tries. “Han, really,” you said as he turned to give you a quick smile.

Needless to say, he wasn’t able to knock any of the bottles down. He managed to hit a few but they stood proud, knocking down only Han’s self esteem.

The attendant shrugged, the same smug smile on his face. “Better luck next time, buddy,” he said. For some reason, his response really irked you so you pulled out a note from your bag and stepped forward.

“Three tries,” you said blankly, slapping the bill down on the counter. The attendant gave you the same smug smile as he took your bill. Han placed his hand on your arm. “Y/N, really it’s okay,” he said softly. You shook your head. He’d been humiliated and shown nothing but disdain from the stall attendant.

You were determined to wipe that smug smile off the guy’s face.

“I got this,” you said to Han with a warm smile.

Han watched as you picked up the first ball and lined up the shot. You knew the trick to these games was about accuracy and not so much about force.

Once you were sure your aim was right, you threw the ball.

It hit the center bottle on the bottom of the shelf and like magic, all of the bottles came tumbling down, shocking both Han and the attendant. You smiled triumphantly and instead of the giant teddy, you pointed at another giant plushie in the shape of a quokka. “I want that one.”

Along with the plushie, you also managed to talk the attendant out of two fuzzy brown headbands with animal ears on them.

You walked away with the difference of your fee as it had only taken one try to knock the bottles down. Han had already put on the animal ears and was carrying the plushie as you walked down the walkway together slowly.

“I can’t believe you got it one try!” Han said excitedly as you put on your matching headband and followed behind him. He turned to wait for you to catch up, the excitement was evident on his face and it was worth every cent to see him light up like that after his repeated missed shots.

When you caught up, Han took your hand and kept pace with you. “This thing is huge,” he continued, squeezing the plushie with one arm, the widest grin on his face. “You can keep it,” you said with your own smile on your face. Han turned to look at you. “No, you won it,” he said as you both slowed to a stop.

“I won it for you,” you replied simply. Han’s cheeks turned pink as he glanced down at the plushie and then up. His attention shifted. “Oh wait, here,” he said quickly, shoving the plushie into your arms and hurrying past you.

Turning around you noticed a collection of crane machines as well as other vending machines.

“Han, seriously!” you said as you followed him. “It’s okay!”

Han shook his head as he fed a singular bill to the crane machine.

“Which one do you want?” 

You sighed and glanced inside the glass windows, eyes scanning the pile of plushies. You noticed a cute little red panda plushie in the back corner. Han followed your gaze and smiled widely. “Consider it done.”

You whined. “Han, really it’s fine! You don’t have to waste your money!”

Han didn’t listen as he took the control stick and started to moved the crane over to the back corner. You watched as he carefully positioned the crane over the panda. He glanced at you with a smug smile before pressing the button.

You watched as the crane moved down and grabbed the red panda by the head. It slowly moved up, bringing the panda with it and carried it over to the drop slot, dropping it down the chute. You watched in awe as he fished the plushie out and looked it over. 

He handed it to you, taking the quokka from you with a smile.

“I may suck at carnival games,” he explained, making you look up from the cute little plushie in your hands. “But I’m a pro at crane games.”

The two of you continued to walk through the fairgrounds, weaving through the crowds that were beginning to thin out. Han couldn’t help but glance over at you as you walked slowly. The sun was setting, making way for the stars and moon. 

It was a beautiful night, but now that the sun was starting to set, a chill was setting in. Han glanced over at you once again. Felix was right. You’d chosen a very cute outfit. 

You’d paired a white skirt that reached the middle of your thighs with a white fitted cropped shirt sporting a cute pink graphic and a cropped pastel purple knitted cardigan.

It was cute to be certain, but Han felt it couldn’t be that warm and his suspicions were confirmed when a breeze blew through the fairgrounds and you visibly shivered. Stopping, Han set the quokka plush on the nearest surface and quickly shrugged off his leather jacket.

You stopped and turned to see where Han had gone and watched as he picked up the plush and crossed the short distance to hand you the jacket. “Here,” he said softly. 

You stared from the jacket up to him and back. 

“I’m okay,” you lied but Han wasn’t having it. 

“I saw you shiver, Y/N,” he said, calling your bluff. “Please take it.”

You puffed out your cheeks but obliged, tucking the red panda plushie between your knees as you pulled on his jacket. Han tried to ignore the thoughts that started to swirl about his brain as he glanced at the plush between your legs.

As soon as the jacket was on, you grabbed the plushie and stuck your tongue out at him, making him chuckle.

The two of you walked silently around the fairgrounds. Han was about to ask if you were ready to leave when you stopped, looking up at the ferris wheel. “Tell you what,” you finally said, turning to look at him. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

Han nodded. “I’m listening.”

“I’ll ride that with you,” you said pointing at the ferris wheel. Han felt excitement bubble in his chest.

“If you ride that with me.”

He quickly followed the direction you were pointing and his stomach sank upon seeing you were pointing at the swing ride. ‘Fuck.’

He took a deep breath and sighed before turning to look at you, smirking up at him. “Fine,” he said, shrugging and trying to seem nonchalant.

On the surface, he was calm but deep down he was freaking out.

The line for the swing ride wasn’t long as a lot of the crowd had dispersed due to the setting sun and families were no doubt heading home for dinner.

It only took a couple minutes to get through the line and once it was finally your turn, Han followed begrudgingly behind you. The attendant allowed you to keep your plushies as you settled down into the seat at one of the very ends of the swing.

Han settled the quokka plush between the two of you as the lap bar came down. “Oh, I hate this,” he said softly as you scooted as close as possible despite the giant animal plush between you. “It’s not so bad,” you said with a smile.

“You don’t like ferris wheels but you like this?” Han asked as the rest of the seats started to fill. You nodded. “I don’t like heights,” you admitted. “But I love swings.”

Han sighed deeply. “I don’t like fast rides,” he replied, looking around as the attendant closed the gate and started checking the lap bars. He felt your hand grab his gently. 

“If you want to close your eyes, I won’t judge you,” you said. 

If it weren’t for your genuine tone, he would have thought you were making fun of him but it was reassuring that you didn’t diminish or play off his dislike of the ride.

He let out a groan as the ride started, the mechanical whirring in the background as the hydraulics propelled the ride, slowly building momentum. Han squeezed his eyes shut, taking your hand tightly.

As the ride slowly started to gain momentum and height Han sank lower and lower, leaning into the plush, keeping his eyes shut tight. You couldn’t help but laugh as he let out a loud scream as the ride reached its full height. You burst out in laughter at his reaction.

“Stop!” He shouted feebly. “It’s so fast!” You felt bad for laughing but how could you not when he shrieked like that? “Make it stop!”

You leaned back against the seat and let out a loud laugh, enjoying the performance as the swing started to slow. Han opened his eyes slowly, letting out a whimper as the ride came to a stop.

You glanced over at him as he shook his head, quickly trying to salvage his image and sat up, looking over at you. “Please,” he begged. “Do not tell Felix.” You laughed again and nodded. “I won’t,” you promised.

“Thank you.”

Once you were finally released from the lap bars, Han made a beeline for the closest bench to sit down and regain his composure, leaving you to haul the giant quokka. 

“Sorry,” he gasped as you sat next to him. “I hate those kinds of rides.”

You tilted your head in response. “Then why did you ride it?”

Han looked up to meet your gaze. “Because I really want to ride the ferris wheel with you.” Your heart fluttered at the thought that he would put himself through such torment just to get to do something he liked with you.

You made a mental note of never making him ride another swing again.

Once the feeling had returned to his legs and he could stand on his own, Han led the way to the ferris wheel, carrying the quokka again.

The line for the ferris wheel was longer than the one for swing so it took longer to get onto the ride. You couldn’t help but glance up at the top, your stomach fluttering with nerves as you stared. You felt Han place an arm around your shoulders. “I’ll be right next to you the whole time,” he said reassuringly as you approached the attendant.

He allowed you to keep your plushies and showed you to the next empty cart. Han let you in first and sat closest to the exit, placing the quokka between you again. You glanced around nervously as he got settled.

Noticing this, Han had the attendant wait while he changed places with the plushie, putting it on the outside and slid next to you. The lap bar was locked in place and the ferris wheel moved backwards to load the next passengers.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself as the ferris wheel slowly crept around, sending you higher and higher into the air. Han rested his arm on the seat behind you, pulling you flush against him. “It’s not so bad, right?” He asked, rubbing your arm soothingly over his jacket.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling nervously. Han noticed and gently pulled your lip from your teeth with his thumb. “Hey,” he said softly.

“I’m right here.”

His words were meant to be reassuring but the simple touch of his thumb against your lip had your mind going places it definitely shouldn’t be while you were riding a ferris wheel.

You leaned in, pushing his hand away and pressing your lips against his. Han welcomed the gesture, bringing one hand to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. The cart jostled as the ride continued, breaking your kiss apart.

You were about to look around but Han stopped you, placing a hand on your cheek and forcing you to look at him. “Don’t,” he said softly. “Don’t look around. Just look at me,” he added, thumb caressing your cheek soothingly.

You caught a glimpse of the lights below and let out a shaky breath. Han pressed a quick peck to your lips. “Close your eyes,” he said softly. You looked back up to meet his eyes. “Trust me,” he said with a reassuring smile.

“Close your eyes, baby.”

The pet name made your stomach flip, fluttering as your heart pace quickened. You did as he instructed, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes.

You felt his forehead press against yours. “Just keep your eyes closed. I’ll tell you when to open them.”

The sounds of the fair were far below you now, like a distant memory as you felt the wind pick up. ‘We must be near the top,’ you thought to yourself.

After what felt like several minutes, Han finally spoke.

“Keep your eyes closed but look up,” he instructed softly. You did as he said, tilting your head up. “Okay, open.”

You opened your eyes and were greeted by a deep indigo sky tinged with a deep orange and pink near the horizon but what really caught your eye were the glittering stars.

Even in the city, you’d never seen so many stars yet here they were. You let out a quiet gasp as you looked at the stars, shimmering down at you.

Han smiled, watching you watch the sky. 

This was why he wanted to bring you up here. He knew this ferris wheel was tall enough to get you away from the lights below and let you see the stars like this. As cliche as it seemed, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to share this with you and he was glad he agreed to ride that awful swing ride if it meant you’d ride this with him.

You looked from the sky to him, eyes shining with an excitement he’d only seen a handful of times. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered, looking back up to the sky. Han kept his eyes on you however. You were right. The sky was beautiful.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “It is.”

You turned to look at him again, finding him staring at you and not the sky. He could have sworn you blushed but didn’t have time to dwell on it as he pulled you into another kiss. There was a tenderness to the kiss that wasn’t present before. He felt your lips part against his and he followed his instinct, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

The moment his tongue met yours, it was like a switch flipped in him and he had to fight the urge to turn this into something more. You were still in public after all but damn it all if he didn’t want to take you back to the parking garage and fuck you in the backseat of his jeep.

But he couldn’t. He needed to show you he could control himself. That he was interested in more than your body. He wanted more than just sex with you. He wanted more dates. He wanted a domesticity with you he’d only ever seen in movies or on tv.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss and quickly pressed his lips to your forehead, trying to keep the moment tender despite the fact his tongue was just down your throat moments ago.

The ride ended after a few more minutes, you clutching his arm with your eyes squeezed shut every time your cart reached the top, and the pair of you were walking towards the exit, your plushies in hand as you reached the gate.

After exiting, the two of you broke off from the crowd and headed for the parking garage with a few other fair patrons. Upon reaching the garage and waiting for the elevator, Han couldn’t keep his eyes off you. The way you smoothed the fake fur of your stuffed red panda, the way you stood so innocently.

It took everything in him not to jump you and flip that skirt up. He was grateful for the giant plushie he held in front of him that was hiding his obvious hard on. It wasn’t difficult for you to turn him on, he found. It was simple. You had to merely look or smile at him and he was ready to go.

The ride up to the eighth floor to the garage was quiet as was the walk back to his Jeep. Han opened your door, placed the giant plush in the backseat and climbed into the driver seat.

He left you in charge of the music as he started to drive down the levels and out onto the mostly empty streets. You glanced back one last time at the fairground before turning to face forward. Han glanced at you out of the side of his eye before looking in the rearview mirror to see the ferris wheel before he turned and lost sight of it.

You settled on a slow song from Han’s playlist. It took him a second to realize it was a song by Wayv. He had no idea you listened to them.

“I didn’t know you knew Wayv,” he admitted to which you smiled. “I do,” you answered. “And NCT.” The music played softly over the car speakers, filling the gaps in between idle chat. The lyrics didn't help Han with the way he felt and wanted to pull over to take you in the backseat but he refrained.

‘Tonight isn’t about that.’

Before long, Han was pulling up to your building and you realized you weren’t ready for the night to end. “Pull into the parking garage,” you instructed, making him look at you quickly before he obliged. He followed your direction and pulled into the empty space meant for a car that you didn’t own.

Han cut the engine and you both sat there silently. You weren’t sure what to say but you knew you needed to say something. Even if it was just that you weren’t ready for the night to end. Han spoke first.

“Can I walk you to your door?”

You looked up at him and nodded slowly. “Yeah,” you answered.

“I’d like that.”

The walk through the garage as well as through the lobby was quiet between the two of you. The lift arrived quickly and as you stepped on, you could feel the tension between the two of you. It had been present ever since you got back into his Jeep and the whole ride back, you had to fight the urge to ask him to pull over.

You wanted this date to be successful but you couldn’t deny that you were insanely attracted to Han and that you really wanted him. Even if you should be taking things slow, who cares? It was no one else's business but your own.

Glancing up, you found Han was already looking at you as the elevator doors shut. You didn’t know who moved first but it was clear that your feelings were reciprocated as Han pushed you up against the wall of the elevator, lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

As quickly as it started, it ended as Han pulled away, eyes still shut as he tried to regain his composure. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here,” he murmured. “There are cameras.” You nuzzled his neck right under his jaw, lips ghosting over his skin.

“Give security a show,” you teased. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”

Han laughed softly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “You’re a little filthy,” he said with a smirk. You leaned in to press your lips to his. “Don’t pretend like you don’t like it,” you said in that same teasing tone.

You could feel his erection in his pants and you were right that he wanted this as much as you did.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened and Han reluctantly pulled away. “Come on,” he said softly, taking your hand in his and pulling you from the confines of the elevator before the doors shut.

The walk to your door was short and soon you were turning to face Han who shoved his hands in his pockets. You pouted slightly, hoping your little display in the elevator might entice him to want to come in.

“I should probably get going,” Han said suddenly. “Don’t want to get in trouble for parking in your space.” You shook your head.

“My neighbors will just assume I got a raise and a nice ass car,” you answered, making Han laugh out loud. “Oh yeah? It’s a nice ass car?” He asked. You nodded in response. “It really is. I like it.” The smile on Han’s face made it worth it.

“I should still head back,” he said softly. Your smile fell. “Are you sure?” You asked, meeting Han’s gaze when he looked up at you from his feet. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to come in for a bit.”

Han’s cheeks flushed as he shook his head. “I think if I came in now, I might not leave,” he said with a lighthearted chuckle. “I’m not opposed to that either,” you said softly.

Han either didn’t hear you or chose to ignore what you said as he leaned in. “I had a really great time tonight,” he said softly. “I would love to do it again soon.” You nodded with a smile.

“Same. It was really nice. Thank you for tonight.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt his lips meet yours for what you assumed was going to be a tender kiss but the moment his lips met yours, Han couldn’t stop himself. He’d held off most of the night but now, this close to the privacy of your apartment, he wanted more.

He pushed you against your front door, groaning against your lips as his body pressed against yours. “Shit,” he cursed. “Sorry,” he whispered. You shook your head as you pulled out your keys and pushed him back enough to turn and unlock your door, letting the pair of you stumble into your apartment.

Once the door swung shut, Han was back on you in seconds, your keys and bag falling from your hands and clattering against the tiled floor of your entryway.

Your back hit the back of the door with a dull thud as Han pressed his body against yours. “Fuck,” he murmured. “Sorry.” His lips ghosted over yours, hands moving to your waist, fumbling to push his leather jacket he’d given you earlier that evening away from you.

“Why are you apologizing?” You chuckled as his lips trailed down the side of your neck. “I didn’t mean to be so rough,” he murmured against your skin. Your hands moved to his pants, fingers trying to undo his belt quickly.

“You should know by now I like it a little rough.”

Han groaned as you hastily pulled his belt free, letting it fall to the floor.

“Shit,” he hissed as you unbuttoned his jeans. “I swear I didn’t plan for this.”

You shook your head. “I know,” you replied, one hand moving up to the back of his neck, guiding his lips back to yours. You could have sworn you heard him moan against your lips as your hand slipped inside his pants, grabbing his already hard cock over his underwear.

You pulled back briefly as you slowly stroked him over the cloth. “Already hard?”

Your tone was teasing but Han clearly wasn’t in the mood for your teasing. Not tonight.

He crashed his lips against yours again, one of his hands slipping under your shirt and grazing the skin of your tummy as it moved up towards your chest, groping your breast firmly, pushing you against the door again.

At the same time, he pushed his knee between your legs, pressing his thigh against your core, making you groan against his lips.

Han broke the kiss, urging you to keep going as your hand moved slightly faster, squeezing him. “Just like that,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Keep doing that, baby.”

You hissed, pulling your hand free and ignoring the way Han whined as you did.

You pushed him back before lowering yourself to your knees, pulling his jeans down with you. Once you freed his cock from the confines of his boxers, Han let out a low groan as you wrapped your fingers around the base of his shaft.

You opened your mouth and let a drop of spit fall onto the tip before spreading it with your hand. “Fuck,” Han whined as your hand moved quickly, aided by your spit. “You sound so hot when you whine,” you said softly, looking up at him.

Han had to brace himself, both hands against the wall. “Don’t stop,” he croaked.

You returned your gaze to his hard cock in your hand before parting your lips and guiding the head into your mouth.

Han had to keep from thrusting into your face the moment he felt your tongue against the underside of his cock. It felt like it had been years since he’d felt it and fuck did he miss it.

He’d missed the way your head bobbed as you took more and more of his length in your mouth. “Fuck, you’re so good to me.”

The praise went straight to your chest but then down to your core. You knew by now you had soaked your underwear and you wouldn’t be surprised if you were dripping onto the wood floor.

You gagged as Han suddenly thrust into your mouth, pulling back to cough.

“Shit!” Han cursed, one hand moving to take your chin gently, forcing you to look up. “I’m so sorry,” he gasped. You shook your head.

“It just caught me off guard,” you replied, moving your hand to take his cock in your hand again. Han let out a hiss at the contact, head falling as he leaned against the arm supporting him against the wall.

“If you keep going like that, I’m gonna cum.”

You giggled, giving the tip of his cock a light lick, making him groan.

“That’s the idea.”

Han shook his head, suddenly grabbing you by the hair and tugging gently to ask you wordlessly to stand.you did as he asked and got to your feet. “What’re you-” you asked but Han cut you off, dragging you towards the bedroom, discarding his pants along the way.

Once inside your room, he marched you over to the bed and all but threw you onto it, quickly helping you out of the skirt and top you’d worn. Once your clothes were off, he rid himself of his shirt and underwear, climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your spread legs.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

“I missed you so much, angel,” he huffed as his hands moved up the tops of your thighs, thumbs moving under your panties and slowly sliding them down your legs before tossing them aside.

Once stripped bare, he pushed your knees further apart and looked down at your glistening sex. “I really just want to be inside you,” he groaned. “Would you be mad if I didn’t go down on you?” He asked, glancing back up to meet your gaze.

You wanted his cock inside you the moment he crossed the threshold but you wanted to be selfish for a moment. “Not terribly mad,” you started.

Han caught on quickly. “Say no more.”

He settled between your thighs, leaving wet kisses down the inside of your legs until his face was level with your glistening core. “I can’t believe I haven’t done this already,” he murmured, making you prop yourself up.

“Wait, you haven’t?” you asked. Han looked up to meet your gaze, shaking his head. “Last time we hooked up, I didn’t get the chance to go down on you.”

You opened your mouth to respond but let out a whine as Han dove in, tongue quickly finding your clit. You fell back to the bed, moaning as he teased the bud with light flicks before swirling around and dipping down to your entrance.

The sounds emanating from him were wet and lewd and enough to make your cheeks burn and toes curl at the same time. Your thighs tried to close on his head but Han held them open, surfacing briefly to tell you to keep your legs spread.

With each flick of his tongue, he brought you closer and closer to the edge, wrapping his lips around your clit and teasing with light sucks that had you keening and begging him for more.

Before you could cum, Han stopped for air and gave you a short reprieve to lift your head to see his lips and chin were covered in your essence. He licked his lips, giving you a cheeky smile before diving back in.

Three times he drew you close to the brink of orgasm only to stop. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and shamelessly begged him to stop teasing you.

“What’s that?” He asked as he wiped his chin and got up, leaning over to take your lips in a sear kiss, parting them and slipping his tongue into your mouth. His saliva mixed with the taste of your arousal hit your tongue and you whined.

“Please fuck me,” you whimpered. Han chuckled against your lips. “Fuck you?” He asked softly, peppering kisses against your lips and cheeks. “Oh baby girl,” he murmured between kisses. “I’m gonna do more than that,” he added.

“I’m gonna make you mine.”

“Condoms in the same place?” he asked, sitting up and locking eyes with you.

“There hasn’t been anyone but you,” you admitted, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. Han studied you with a mix of admiration and awe. “I haven’t been with anyone else either,” he replied.

“Then don’t worry about it,” you answered. Han leaned over you, pressing his lips against yours as he took his cock in his hand, guiding the tip to your entrance. “If I hurt you, tell me,” he murmured as he slowly pushed into you, jaw dropping slightly as he glided in with relative ease.

You let out a moan as his cock stretched your cunt, accommodating the girth you’d clearly forgotten about. “Fuuuuck,” you heard him hiss as he bottomed out. “I forgot how good you feel,” he moaned.

You felt his hand grab behind your knee, hiking your leg up higher, allowing his cock to slip deeper inside your walls with a gasp from you and a growl from him. “I swear it’s like you were made to take my cock,” he groaned.

“Please move,” you whined. “Please Han.”

He chuckled breathlessly. “Say my name and I will,” he joked.

“Jisung,” you gasped. “Please fuck me.”

The first sharp thrust took you by surprise. The ones that follow had your back arching off the sheets. Each thrust was angled and just sharp enough for the head of his cock to hit the soft gummy spot inside your walls that had you gasping and groaning as he increased speed.

“Last time I had you from behind,” he groaned, shifting his weight as he moved one hand up to cup your cheek. “This time I get to see your face.”

“Keep saying shit like that and I just might fall in love,” you said with an amused tone. Han slowed his pace to roll his hips, watching your face contorted in pleasure with each slow, deep thrust. “You like that?” He asked, his voice soft as you nodded.

“Tell me you like it.”

“Han-”

“That’s not my name, sweetheart.”

“Jisung,” you moaned, loudly, gripping the sheets tightly in one hand as the other moved to grab the pillow under your head.

“Come on. Tell me you like it,” he cooed. “Yes,” you gasped as he gave you a particularly hard thrust. “Say it.” His demand was punctuated by another sharp thrust. “I like it!” You gasped. “I like it when you do that.”

Han chuckled lightly, still moving his hips in a slow, deep roll. “Like it when I do what?” He asked, pressing a couple chaste kisses to your cheek. “You like it when I fuck you like this?” You nodded. “Yes!”

“You like it when I fuck you nice and slow?”

“Mhm! Yes!”

“You like it when I make love to you?”

“Yes, Jisung. I love it!”

At your admission, Han let out a low growl, resuming the same pace as before, his hips hitting against your thighs as he pounded into you.

The hand that had been on your cheek moved up to join your hand near the pillow, pulling the material free from your grip and instead lacing his fingers with yours. The action was so intimate and gentle but it still sent you straight over the edge, thighs squeezing around his waist as you came with a whimper.

Han’s pace didn’t slow, if anything, he sped up, chasing his own high as he buried his face in your neck. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned as you felt his cock twitch inside you. “I’m gonna cum.”

You nodded, your second orgasm starting to build. “Just a little more,” you encouraged him. “I’m close again.”

You felt his teeth sink into your skin and you let out a cry, walls clenching around him and sending him over the edge. He came with a groan, releasing inside your cunt as he rode out his high and pushed you to a second orgasm.

As his hips slowed to a stop, Han collapsed on top of you with a huff, fingers still laced with yours. His free hand moved to your thigh, tucking under your knee and rolled over, pulling you with him onto your side. His cock somehow managed to stay buried inside you.

“We should probably get cleaned up,” you muttered but Han shushed you. “Just let me stay like this a little while longer,” he begged. You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair and hummed in response.

The two of you lay there for a while longer until you felt his cock slip out of you and a sudden gush of warm sticky fluid. “I’m leaking,” you mused, making him snort. Han lifted his head and let it fall with a sigh.

“You know,” he said hoarsely. “This wasn’t my intention.”

You opened your eyes to meet his pretty brown ones. “It wasn’t my intention to come in here and sleep with you. I just wanted to take you on a date and show you a good time,” he whined, making you laugh. “God you probably think I’m some sex crazed maniac. Can’t even keep my hands to myself for a night.”

You laughed loudly at that. “I don’t think you’re a sex crazed maniac, Jisung,” you replied, taking his face in your hands and kissing the tip of his nose. “You aren’t a horrible person. We had sex, no big deal. It’s not like you forced me or something. I wanted it.”

Han shook his head. “No, I know. I just wanted to show you that I was serious when I said I wanted to date you. I don’t just want you for sex. I want you for more than that.”

You offered him a warm smile. "It's okay, Ji," you replied. "You aren't some kind of monster for wanting to have sex with your girlfriend."

"I know but I still want to- wait," he responded, pausing to process your words. "Girlfriend?" His expression shifted from confusion to excitement as it dawned on him. "My girlfriend?!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. "Yes," you replied, nodding. "Truthfully? I was yours the moment you walked through my door the first time."

Han pulled you flush against him, peppering kisses all over your face, making you giggle and squeal with delight. "Han!" You shrieked, trying to squirm away from his relentless kisses.

"That's not my name~!" he reminded you as his kisses traveled down your neck. "Jisung!" You hissed, feeling heat pool in your belly as his lips moved against the skin of your throat.

"That's better," he murmured, pushing you flat on your back and hovering over you. "I like it when you say my name," he muttered as he kissed back up to your cheek, lips brushing against your ear.

"I wanna hear you say only that name from now on."

You let out a moan as he grinded his half hard cock against you.

"Again?" you asked.

He gave you a cheeky grin. "We’ve been over this baby,” he answered. “I may not last long each round," he added simply.

"But I can go multiple rounds."

“I'll keep that-" you moaned loudly as his lips trailed down your chest, kissing down the valley of your breast and continued past your navel. He stopped briefly to glance up at you from between your thighs, wrapping his arms around them to keep your legs open.

"I know I already went down on you earlier but once I get a taste, I want more," he said with a devilish grin. "I’m not complaining," you replied with a nod, chest rising and falling with each labored breath. You combed your fingers through his hair softly. "Don't hold back either."

His grin widened before he let out a soft but devious chuckle.

"Oh, baby," he groaned, glancing down at your waiting cunt and licking his lips as if it was the most delicious thing he'd ever seen.

"I don't plan to."