#choi yeonjun × reader

[biteyoubiteme]

black cherry flavored

ot5 txt x fem!reader

synopsis: how many ghostfaces are there again?

warnings: 🔞!!! gangbang, mentions of drinking, getting scared, fearplay? reader gets chased through house and doesnt know who it is, knifeplay (only used to cut off underwear), clit play, mean dom moments, filming during sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f!), creampie(s), marking, subspace, fingering, oral (m! rec), hair pulling!, overstim (f!rec), she/her used prob forgot some

wc: 9.2k (this one got away from me)

an: this is not proofread at all im so so so sorry forgive me sweet angel ily but I cannot believe october is over and this event has come to an end ;-; I hope you guys like this one! im a HUGE horror movie fan so I was excited to do this and hopefully it turned out well. I went with a different approach for a scream fic that was kinda based on different aspects from the movies and I hope you like it! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the rest of the fics! [dumdum m.list]

"whats your favorite scary movie?"

You roll your eyes, hand coming up to cover the screen of your laptop. “Aren't you supposed to be doing your own work not pestering me about mine?” 

It was late in the night, the library dead silent besides the hum of the heater and faint typing on stiff keyboards. The door to the study space was cracked just enough to hear the elevator if it dinged, the indicator the floor would soon be closing for the cleaning staff. The clock on the wall told you it was close to one in the morning, only an hour away from the library being cleared and closed.  

“I'm avoiding the rest of my essay,” beomgyu shrugs, clicking his pen as a signal for an end to the line of questioning. “Annoying you just seemed like a better plan,” 

“Annoying all of us, I needed this done an hour ago,” yeonjun doesn't even look up from his laptop, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, lenses glossed over with the light from his screen, fingers speeding over the keys only to pause and jam the delete button. “Fuck, i lost my train of thought,” 

“It's already late, just turn it in tomorrow morning,” huening suggests, slouched back in his chair, thumbs nibbly swiveling on the joystick of his switch. “The syllabus said it was ten points off no matter how late after twelve you submit it,” 

“Don't talk to me right now, you got yours in on time. And I'm getting this done tonight whether I like it or not. I won't be able to handle looking at it tomorrow morning. the paper just won't get turned in at all if that happens,” yeonjuns back to typing furiously squinting at his laptop not noticing kais grin. 

“You should have listened to me about meeting up at nine, but nooo-” 

“Huening,” yeonjun warns. 

“I'm just saying…” 

Yeonjun picks up one of Soobin's scattered pens from the table, tossing it at Kai hitting him in the lap. And when Kai just laughs, Yeonjun picks up a few more to throw, the showering of pens making Kai yelp. 

“Shhh,” soobin doesn't even lift his head to see what's going on. He and tae had been trying to sleep for the better part of two hours, Taehyun having found success, sliding two chairs together to prop his legs up. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and hasn't said anything since closing them. Soobin only crossed his arms and laid his head down, leg bouncing showing he was still struggling to actually find it in him to sleep without his bed. 

The six of you usually booked the room on Friday nights from nine to two, blocking the time to try and catch up on work before the weekend. It was either the time you got the most work done or none at all. You're surprised it took beomgyu this long to finally turn away from his assignment at this point he's usually at the whiteboard doodling or trying to get everyone to play dirty hangman. 

It was easier to get all of you together here instead of one of your small dorms, the space hardly big enough for three people let alone six. In the library you didn't have to worry about cramming together, the fourth floors study spaces equipped with long tables and eight chairs. Out of the two libraries on campus this one didn't have many people visit often, especially not when the walk from any of the dorms was twice as long. The fourth floor was empty and quiet except for the group's laughter on nights you didn't worry about work. 

“You didn't answer that question,” beomgyu points out again, pointer finger pushing away your hand blocking the screen, “what's your favorite scary movie?” 

“I didn't answer it because I can't choose,” you confess, scrolling through the paper you're writing for class. 

“Is your homework twenty questions?” soobins voice is muffled, annoyed and sleep-ridden. 

“No-” 

beomgyu cuts you off before you could explain, brows scrunching as he reads. “Looks like it, this one is ‘what are the rules around sex’ there is no way this actually for your class,” 

“What?” this pulls soobins head up, the messy strands of his dark hair sticking up around his forehead. 

“Of course you wake up when you hear the word sex,” yeonjun quips, pursing his lips reading over his work on his screen. 

“No need to wake up you type so loud i couldn't fall asleep,” soobin says brushing his long fingers through his hair, you always noticed the later it got the grumpier he became, pouting lips and half lidded eyes always making an appearance after midnight. 

“It's for my film studies class. We’re learning about the rules of horror,” its clarification enough for soobin who nods but beomgyu lets his head tilt to the side, the vision of a question mark. 

“Rules? You can't just send a killer in, have them spill some blood, and call it a day?” 

“You could, but i'm sure it would follow a pattern, even without you realizing it,” scrolling through your work you pause on the first option. “First you have to think about the time period when the movie was filmed. Most of the popular ones ranged from the 80’s to the early 2000’s. A huge push in most cultures is the topics of sex, drugs, and money. It's the three things people try to control the most. Throw a bunch of badly behaving teens in with a psycho killer playing god and you can tell the masses how wrong something is. Like having sex,” 

“So wrong it would get you killed?” 

“Yup, in most, if not all, horror movies the people who have sex on screen or are known for sleeping around get killed off, leaving the poor virgin alive. Main characters who live to the end also don't drink, or do drugs. Rich people aren't safe, especially if you have a big empty house with lots of stairs, doors, and windows. The more for you to make the wrong decision not to exit from,” 

“Then who does live?” Kai asks, game paused in hand. 

“The girl next door lead, never her boyfriend, the camera man, unless you see him leave the group because you should never leave the group under any circumstances. But everyone else is fair game. Oh and if you say ‘i'll be right back,’ the lines a killer in and of itself,” 

“So I'd die because I like to have a good time?” yeonjun asks, fingers paused on his keys as he looks over at you. Everyone but tae is turned in your direction, listening intently. 

“Unless you're the killer, or lucky because you weren't in line of the camera when you decided it was smart enough to leave the house. It's very kill or be killed. Another rule is to never trust anyone,” 

“The list just gets longer and longer,” soobin sits back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as he stretches, “you know i saw this one post on twitter that some people like the whole masked killer thing, gets them off,” 

“Of course you would be on twitter looking at stuff like that,” gyu fakes disappointment, shaking his head, “this is exactly why you wouldn't survive, you're a closeted perv,” 

“I don't know about closeted perv, he was openly scrolling past hentai the other day in the dorm,” yeonjun is back to typing, soobin kicking the foot of his chair. 

“Past it, i didn't pause on it,” 

“It was on your for you page! Clearly you have a habit of liking things akin to it,” 

“I don't know, I think it's kinda hot, the mask thing. or i guess more so the build up of fear, it's almost like foreplay, your pulse starts going, you get all flushed. And I did see this clip of these two guys dressed up…” this wouldn't be the first time any of you confessed to watching something that turned you on. All of you had been friends for years, growing up nothing had ever been an off limits topic. You can see the video in your head, the way they held the girl between them; how they manhandled her down onto the bed. 

“So you and soobin are both freaks,” beomgyu grins, the need to tease showing right in his eyes. 

“A threesome is not freaky,” Taehyun states, breaking his silence, hat still over his eyes, fully relaxed and laid back. If you hadn't known the sound of his voice you would have assumed he was still asleep, if he had even been asleep in the first place. 

“Agreed, anything over three is a little freaky,” soobin shrugs, bending over halfway out of his chair to pick up his fallen pens. 

“So would you? Sleep with more than two people at once?” gyu asks, the tilt back to his head, “this is the true test if you're freaky or not,” he chuckles. 

“I mean yeah… would you?” The question is directed at the room and you watch the question lay over them like fog, each of them thinking for a second, blank expressions all the way around.

Taehyun was the first to respond, shrugging his shoulders before nodding briefly, “I wouldn't let the opportunity slip by if it was offered,” It was a unanimous yes from all of them, the hummed agreement not too surprising. 

“Done!” yeonjun smashes one last key before stretching big, “finally fucking submitted, and right before we have to leave, im surprised the staff hasnt gotten around to our room yet to kick us out,”

Taehyun pulls his hat from his face, sitting up with a yawn, “good, i needed my bed two hours ago,” 

It always felt so good to sleep in on a saturday after a study session like this, you could already feel how cozy it would be to wrap up in your blanket. And even if the mattress was shit with or without the foam topper, it was better than laying out in the chairs like taehyun just was.  

All of you cleaned up the space, making sure to tuck in the chairs, pick up the discarded cups of late night bad decision coffee. Squishing in the elevator together, bags bumping into one another before you filed out; passing all the empty desks and empty aisles of books to make it out the front door. 

As soon as the outside air hits your cheeks you know it’s going to feel like a long walk back to the dorms. the boys tucking their ears into hoodies, zipping their jackets up, you and kai lived in the dorms on the opposite side of campus from the rest of them, their walk shorter by only a few minutes. 

“Okay we’re still on for dinner tomorrow right?” Kai asks the group. 

beomgyu’s jumping on the balls of his feet to try to generate some warmth. “literally just text us, I cannot think about tomorrow when i’m this cold and sleepy,”

“Yes, we’re still on, I've been craving anything other than dining hall food for the past week,” yeonjun adds, shivering as he pulls the straps of his bag closer to his chest. “We'll still meet up back here like usual,” he was walking backwards as he said it, already a few steps behind the others, “but see you guys tomorrow or should I say ‘i’ll be right back!’” he jokingly yells while the others wave goodbye. 

“don’t play jjunie, you might be next! don’t trust anyone!” He gives you a silent salute in response as you and Kai head out for your walk. 

Instinctively the two of you are shoulder to shoulder, bumping into one another every other step. Silence following each muffled step on the pavement. Sometimes the two of you didn't say anything until you split on the elevators. a quick ‘goodnight’ or ‘see you tomorrow’ thrown out as you step out on your floor, waving as the doors closed back up so he could go up one more level. Other nights it was the two of you giggling trying to keep it down as you walked under the moonlight, too late to be loud. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the wind hits the treeline. spots of orange light from the spaced out street lights are rare, casting the two of you in darkness every time the moon is behind the clouds; every several feet the hash light is back in your path. 

“So you'd live? In a horror movie?” Kai asks, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders to his ears from the cold. The wind is hitting him right in the face, tossing his hair from his eyes where he liked to keep it. He asks it so softly, the question highlighted in the divot of his brow, nose pink, face washed in the glow from the moon. 

“I'm not really a virgin so���,” it's not an embarrassing confession but when it's this late with his eyes trained solely on you it's like a spilled glass of red wine on white sheets. Impossible to look away from. 

“You wouldn't live for knowing how people survive?” 

“The smart ones usually die from bad luck, they know to head for the car waiting in the lot but forget the keys or if the keys are still in the ignition they never check the back seat. They know if you run into the woods to escape you can hide, but how unlucky for a rusty forgotten bare trap to be waiting for your next step. or if you miss that one here's a log to trip over, only to tumble down a hill and break your neck. Call the police? You're in the one movie a phone works only for you to forget never trust anyone because the police work for the killer,” 

“So none of us make it?” It's such an open question the way he asks it, the hopeful twinge hitting the ending, twisting it into something it shouldn't be. Written right over his features the soft words unsaid, can't we? There has to be a way.

“This isn't a movie kai, we’re fine,” 

“I know, it's only a question,” he's so easily flustered when alone, second guessing everything he says, as if one slip up will make you hate him. Now he's blushing, both of you falling back into comfortable silence. You can tell he's thinking by the way he's biting at his cheek, eyes watching his feet, making sure not to miss one step. You assume it's the end of what he has to say, his silence following you all the way back to your floor. The elevator doors opened finally giving him the courage to speak up. “Do you…” 

“Hum?” you lift your arm to hold the doors open, turned to see him struggling to get the words out. 

“Do you want to come with me to my parents cabin,” he says it all in a rush, avoiding looking you in the eyes just in case you reject him. “I mean you don't have to, the guys won't be there and if it makes you uncomfortable-” he cuts himself off, hand at the back of his neck, trying to rub away his embarrassment, “forget it- forget i said anything,” 

“It's okay, I'd love to go. where is it?” 

“Um it's like two hours from campus, my parents need me to check on it just cause and i thought, why not make a weekend of it? I mean, you can finally sleep on a real mattress, not whatever was issued here,” 

A weekend away did sound good, perfect after the semester you were having. And Kai is as sweet as they come, spending time with him wouldn't be bad at all. “Sure, when are you thinking?” 

“Next week?” 

It was all so very innocent, a sweet boy asking a girl to join him on a weekend getaway. He even packed you snacks for the drive, let you pick all the music, and made sure to carry your bag in when you arrived. 

You weren't stupid enough not to realize why you were here and the other boys didn't get an invite. The whole week you thought it over, pushing around the idea of being with him. And you could tell he was tossing it around all throughout the drive, periodically blushing without saying a thing to you, hands tightening on the steering wheel; knuckles turning white from the pressure. 

Halfway through the drive you realized exactly what he meant by cabin. Not the kind sitting near the edge of a trail, but one hidden deep into the woods for perfect seclusion. Kai had a late class to make up for and the two of you didn't get started on the drive until the sun was already setting behind the trees. Every shadow thrown across the road drew longer and longer as the car kept on. 

The gravel driveway leading up to the cabin was a stretch, but when you finally broke past the winding path the gleaming two story was not very cabin like. The windows reflecting the cars headlights back at you expanded most of the first level. Wraparound porch dotted with chairs, and a swinging bench. As soon as kai killed the engine the silence stumbled in, darkness spilling over the scene as you climbed out of your seat. 

“This place is huge,” you whisper, as if anything louder would disrupt the peace of the outdoors. You held your phone's flash up in front of you, huening fumbling to put the key into the lock on the first try. Each attempt from his shaking hand failed.

“Here,” you took the key into your own hand, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. 

“Sorry,” his voice wavering as he flips on the light switch, “i'm just- you know-,” he cuts himself off not wanting any more embarrassment to follow him. 

As soon as the lights come on you can't see anything outside, the windows a reflection of the room. A tv hanging over a huge stone fireplace, welcoming couches spaced out in a semi circle around a wooden coffee table, a bar topped with dusty glasses pushed in the corner. Kai kicks off his shoes by the door, walking further in you notice the dark hallway leading deeper into the first floor, a staircase waiting right by the entrance. But kai ignores it all while walking towards the kitchen. 

“I mostly have to check the doors and windows to make sure no one broke in,” he's trying to fill the silence, rambling to kill his nerves,”one year we had someone steal the tv, we don't really leave much now just incase, so that's why it looks so empty,” 

“People actually drive all the way out here and break in? The last time i saw a turn off the road before this one was an hour ago,” 

“You never know, it's best to just check and fill out a report sooner rather than later,” in the kitchen the backdoor is made of two foggy planes of glass, only the outline of kai seen in the weavering shape. He twists the knob and to your surprise it gives way and opens, “damn one of my sisters must have forgotten to lock it last they were here,” You lean your hip against the kitchen island, taking his explanation as is. 

“They come out here to check too?”

“Rarely they mostly come with their friends but stopped when they realized there is zero phone service this far out,” 

“There isn't?” you hadn't even checked to see if your phone was working, “what if someone had broken in? You have no phone to make a call from,” 

He chuckles pointing past your shoulder, right on the end of the counter a sleek black cordless landline rests in its holder, the blinking red light showing one waiting voicemail. “Sometimes it can be spotty but for the most part its a solid line of communication,” 

Hand still on the knob of the backdoor he locks the door before walking over to the pantry, finding only a crate of dusty wine and a stack of old jiffy pop popcorn. 

“Wait, I didn't think they made these anymore,” you reach out for the thin metal handle attached to the panshapped popcorn container. Shaking it you hear the rattle of the kernels, “when i was younger i thought it was just something people had in movies,” 

“My sisters and i love the stuff, it's also easy to pop outside over the fire,” 

“So all you leave is popcorn and wine when you're not staying here?” you tap the crate of wine with your foot, his grin boyish and shy. 

“It's a good thing for us now i guess,” 

It's what leads you to sharing the bottle, passing it by the neck as he gives you a tour of the house. His lips right at the spout, nerves loosening up with each sip he takes, creaking steps leading up the second floor. “And here is my room,” 

It’s right at the end of the hall, bed neatly made with a single stuffed penguin sitting against the pillows. “You left him here all alone?” You ask, picking up the plushie, Kai's standing in front of the closet, the slatted doors making up most of the wall behind him facing the bed. 

He shrugs placing the half full wine bottle down on his dresser, “someone needed to protect my prize possession,” he falls right onto the mattress, head thrown back, hair spilling against the pillows, “i always sleep so good in this bed,” cheeks flushed from the wine, half lidded eyes watching you from under his lashes. It's an invitation you don't pass up. 

You climb in after him, feeling relaxed from drinking even if it was only a little bit, you can tell it's helped him too, his lazy smile so blissful. “I'm sure this bed is good for other things too,” you don't even care about being bold, not alone with him under you as you dip your head, nose brushing his. 

The first kiss is so soft, a brush of lips together lasting no longer than a second. Kai whines in the back of his throat, an ache for more hidden in the desperate sound. It's addicting to have someone seem so needy for your attention, his legs instinctively tangling with yours, hand at the back of your neck pulling you back down for another kiss.

The two of you fumbling to feel at each other, your hand sliding up under his shirt to touch his warm skin, his stomach flexing at the brush of your cold fingertips. His hand at your waist pulling you closer to him, needing you as close as he can get you. The kiss is sloppy in seconds, his tongue sliding against yours, noses bumping as you breath in each other.  You can feel that he's semi-hard, pressed against your thigh between his legs. 

He's a mess, whimpering when you pull away to take off your sweater, leaving you braless in a tank top. greedy hands back on you, pulling you back down on top of him, he’s grinding onto you desperately, fully hard from only kissing. 

every little noise he makes is caught in your mouth, his fingers fumbling for the button on your jeans. you have to pull away after his failed attempt, giggling as you brush his hair back, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening we have all night,” you remind him, “I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” he's looking up at you with total devotion, with an expression that lets you know he'd let you do anything if you asked. 

“Please?” and it doesn't even matter what he's begging for, you would let him do just about anything in return for looking at you like that. 

You're quick to rid yourself of your pants, falling back to the bed and letting him roll on top of you. Hands in his hair as he presses into you, one hand holding himself up while the other snakes down between you two. The soft gasp you let out eggs him on, drawing soft circles over your clothed clit like he knows exactly what to do. You twist your fingers into his hair, his lips tracing down your neck, hips back to grinding into your thigh. At first you don't notice the smell of popcorn. It's faint upstairs, wafting in through the vents, buttery and warm as kai slips his fingers into you. Your hips rolling on his hand, meeting every thrust, heel of his palm pressed to your clit. 

It isn't until the popcorn starts to burn that you say something, the tang in the air subtle as kai sucks hickeys on your sensitive skin. “Is something on fire?” 

Kai pulls away from the crook of your neck, “what the fuck?” breathing deeply to catch the scent. It's clear in the air now, hanging around like a question. “Stay here,” 

it's so unceremonious when he pulls his hand from your panties, fingers dropping onto his tongue to clear them, “i'll be right back, okay?” 

“O-okay,” you're confused more than anything, knees pulling in feeling overly exposed all of a sudden. It's silent in the house, the soundtrack of your kissing dimmed to nothing, before it's replaced with the creaking of his dissipating steps down the stairs. 

You feel a little foolish sitting in his bed, the crumpled sheets and discarded plushie a reminder that this is not normal for a hook up at all. Letting out a long breath you push out of the bed, all relaxation felt before now gone as you reach for the wine bottle on the dresser. You take a heavy swig from the bottle, needing your courage back. It felt silly to worry over burnt popcorn. 

Your stomach turns, sickening realization settling in. the two of you had only picked up the wine, neither of you even put the jiffy pop close to the stove's burners. You're quick to look for your phone, checking in the pile of your clothes on the floor, and finding nothing. Your bag was by the door downstairs, right next to the shoes, if your phone wasnt up here it was bound to be in your bag. 

You didn't say anything as you made it to the top of the stairs, not until the phone rang. Not the familiar song that came through your speakers but the deft echo of a warning siren. The kind of ringtone that was played in a movie when someone was receiving bad news, and it didn't stop, traveling up the stairs, playing once, twice, until nothing but silence. 

“Huening?” your voice wasn't as strong as you wished, faulting at the end as you took your first step down the stairs. 

No response. 

The last step creaks under your weight, the sound triggering the phone, that chilling ringtone back in the air. All the lights are on, nothing outside the windows visible as you watch your reflection walk past. You look right at the front door as you walk past, all of your things still in place, even Kai's shoes are still right where he left them. 

In the kitchen you find the ringing phone, the little screen bright green as it shows the incoming call. The skins faucet turned on, the pelting water beating down on the thin aluminum foil of the jiffy pop, hastily tossed into the basin. Thin rivulets of smoke still curling from the singed popcorn. The stove's gas burner still lit with a blue flame. 

The ringing continues as you turn everything off, feeling suddenly too cold and alone standing under the golden lights. It doesn't help that you're only dressed in your panties and tanktop, bare feet padding across the tile to pick you the phone. 

Unknown caller. Read the directory, not even the number shown underneath. You hit answer before you could think better of it. 

“Hello?” your pulse was in your ears, washing down your neck, but you're stunned to recognize the voice over the phone. 

“What's your favorite scary movie?” 

You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you respond, “kai, are you using the ghostface voice on me right now? You already had your hand down my pants no need for the theatrics,” 

You can't even pick up a trace of his real voice over the filter, the soft chuckle on the other line trickling down your spine. “You didn't answer my question, you have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“So we’re quoting the movie now?” you ask, looking around the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop. “Should i go all in and start asking to make it to the sequel?” 

He chuckles, so soft and sensual, unlike his usual boisterous laugh. “Maybe…but a little birdie told me that you're not a virgin and you know what happens to those who sleep around right?” 

“Enlighten me,” you cross your arms smiling at your reflection in the window. It's a bit silly to be here roleplaying in the first place but it's not like you're against it. What gets you is that it's coming from kai of all people. So soft and sweet, giggling and shyly walking you home. But you truly never know what a persons into until you're faced first with it. 

“They don't last very long,” so smug as he says it. 

“They don't?” 

“Nope, and you have a list of things that you've already done wrong. I don't know if you truly deserve to make it to the sequel,” 

“Oh? What did I do wrong?” you smile, checking out your nails, thumb running along the bed of your cuticles as you listen. 

“Humm, let me see. First you're all alone in that big old house, did anyone ever tell you never to go into the dark and scary woods all alone?” 

“I'm not alone, i have you,” 

He ignores the last half of your statement, “Aren't you? hum, funny how i don't see the boytoy around anymore,” 

“I can't believe you planned all of this, who knew you would be so freaky? I can't say that it doesn't turn me on though,” 

“Oh? How cute that you still think I'm your little boyfriend. I mean didn't you see the signs? The door was unlocked in the back, popcorn on the stove when you didn't put it there, and now a missing boy toy. It's a shame you seem to have forgotten everything you've learned in class, or maybe it was the wine,” 

“A few sips won't make me stupid, seriously huening come out, i want to get back into your bed,” you push off the counter, walking back toward the living room until you're stopped dead in your tracks. The sound isn't coming from the phone but just up ahead around the corner.

Your laugh echoes in the empty house, followed by your own words, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening, we have all night, I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” 

You follow each line into the living room, the tv on and showing a video of only minutes ago. 

“Please?” kais weavering voice seems so loud here instead of between you two. 

You can see yourself push down your pants, watch the way the two of you fall right back into each other. Only now you're seeing it from the perspective of the closet, it's the only place you could think of that he would have placed the camera. The slats of the wood even in frame. It's like someone dropped a bucket of ice water on top of you. Standing in front of the tv as if you're Carrie from the prom and someones set up a cruel joke. 

“Cute huh?” the voice over the phone asks, that little laugh following right after, “i sure think it is. Look at the way your body reacts to his fingers, you’ll be that pretty for me won't you?” 

You feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, the house too big for this kind of game. Even just standing there now alone it felt like you were a fish in a bowl, stuck to be watched from all sides. And not from the video but from the figure standing right on the outside of the window. 

He was dressed in all black, nothing like what kai had been wearing before. And covering his face the dripping white mask of ghostface. You only catch a glimpse because the lights are on but it's enough to remind you that maybe this isn't a joke. “Are you outside?” 

“I don't know? Am i?” but as he says it you see down the hallway a dark figure step out of a doorway. 

Everything in you freezes, your heart rate plummeting, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. You hadn't even noticed your fingers had been trembling before, not until your deathgrip on the phone starts to hurt. “Don't hang up on me,” he warns over the line, but the person down the hall doesnt even have a phone in sight, his slow prowl reminding you to move. 

You take off back towards the kitchen, the back door playing in your head as the best possible exit but as soon as you're in front of it, tugging on a door knob needs to be unlocked you see the haze reflection of two more figures waiting right against the glass. You can hear the laugh of the person on the phone even if it's not to your ear as you rush to pull open any drawer that might have something in it to protect you. But every pull leads you to find nothing at all, “what the fuck!” 

The door shakes as they try to pull it open, the glass rattling as you lift the phone back to your ear, “okay huening, that's enough, i get it, ha ha, funny, but seriously-” 

“Were you looking for a knife?” he cuts you off, voice so calm when you're falling apart. 

“What?” you're exasperated, huffing the question like it's a slap in the face. 

“I know where one is, if you want it,” 

It's then that the masked man from the hall comes into the kitchen, the steel knife in his hands glinting in the light. “You have to be fucking kidding me right now,” youre desprate to find an explanation for this. The island is between the two of you, his head tilting to the side, the open mouth of the mask mocking you as he takes slow steps around the marble. You're matching his every move, both of you circling the kitchen like two fighters waiting for the ding of a bell. 

The door rattles again, the sound making you yelp, hand pressed to your racing heart. It's the distraction you need to bolt right through the kitchens arch way and run to the front door. 

You're moving so fast you have little time to slow down, partially slamming into the door, fingers fast to twist the locks. 

As soon as it's opened you're standing face to face with another ghostface mask, his black clad outfit sticking to his figure as he towers over you, phone hovering right over the mask's gaping mouth. “Hum not out the front door i guess,” 

You try to slam the door shut but his boot clad foot moves fast catching it right before it could close completely. Spinning you run towards the stairs, the sound of their following footsteps close behind. The door to the bedroom is still wide open as you barrel through turning around and throwing the door closed and twisting the lock. 

But it's only a moment of relief when you feel a hand clasp around your mouth. Your scream is muffled from their fingers, your eyes closing as if that would fix the situation, the phone in your hand falling to the floor, “Shhh it's okay,” Kai whispers, a strong arm wrapping around your middle pulling you closer to him. 

The weight is lifted off your shoulders hearing his voice, hands wrapping around the one covering your mouth to tug it away. “What is going on?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him. your back is to the door and he steps closer backing you right up against it. 

“Didn't you say you found it kinda hot, the whole fear thing?” he asks, leaning close enough to kiss, “i wanted to make it extra special for you, and you don't mind if we all share you, right?” his knuckle lifts your chin up so you’re eye to eye, nose to nose, his normal shy smile turned devilish. “All you have to do is say no,” 

It was crazy to say yes. your heart still pounding, breathing only just starting to regulate, and yet you want him, you want them. “I-I don’t- I don’t want to say no,” 

“Then don’t,” he pushed his whole body against yours, engulfing you in his warmth, taking you for another kiss like you hadn’t left the room at all. You don't even notice him unlocking the door, not until the knob is shaking against your back. 

Kai pulls you towards the bed, the closet doors behind him open showing the empty space with a lone camera on a tripod. The red light looking back at you like a warning, you looked right down the barrel of the lens wondering if you would ever see this again, and praying that you did. Kai fit his fingers over you eyes, “don't look at it, don’t think about its there,” 

You hear a chuckle, so similar to the one over the phone, only without the filter. Now so easily recognizable as yeonjun, you can picture the way his mouth looks as he does it, his canines on display as he smirks. You don't even have to see him to know, you've known all of them so long you're sure one touch and you could guess who was who. And with both of kais hands on your eyes the brush of someone's fingers on your cheek lets you know exactly who it is. Soobins hands are the softest of the bunch and your face tilts in his direction. “Soobin?”

he lets out a huff of a laugh, “you caught me. And you know it's kind of rude not to open the back door when we come knocking,” 

“You scared me,” it's a soft confession that they all chuckle at. 

“Did we?” beomgyu teases, so much closer than you expected, the ghost of his touch going up your arm, goosebumps popping up along the trail. 

Your senses are on overdrive, pulse loud enough to be heard if one listens close enough, every little thing heightened by your fading fear and covered eyes. You feel a hand slip down your stomach stopping right before your panty line, a single finger sliding under the waistline to pull it and let it snap back against your skin. You jolt from the contact, body flush with kai’s, his hard cock pressed to your back. 

You hear rustling from the closet, and kai lets you go, letting you see yeonjun taking the camera in hand. He's adjusting the viewfinder, the others standing in a circle around you, it should be intimidating, the masks off now, looking at you like you're something to eat. It's taehyun that steps forward first, thumb reaching out to drag across your bottom lip. You open your mouth letting him press the digit flat against your tongue. 

“You’ll be good for us, won't you?” he asks, and you close your mouth sucking his finger as you nod. He smirks, “i want first,” 

It's all he says before he's pushing you down on the bed. It's so quick the air is almost knocked right out of you, your hands scrambling to find purchase on the beds duvet cover. It's almost a shame how wet you already are, the way your panties are cut away, the cold knife in taehyuns free hand only just brushing your skin. The fabric tossed around from person to person. “I did most of the work,” kai adds as you bury your face into the sheets, “she wouldn't be this prepped if i didn't start early,” 

“And that's why you have to wait,” “You didn't even get her off,” they talk over each other.  

“You guys didn't give me time!” kai tries but they ignore him when you give a sharp whine. 

Taehyun shoves his fingers right into you, your body so willing to take him in. but you hear his belt being undone with one hand, and it's a shame you cant see the way his cock looks from this angle, because as he pressed the tip right at your entrance, slick fingers helping to lude up his veiny shaft, you can tell he's going to be the perfect stretch. 

Your moan as he sinks into your warm heat is echoed by the rest of them, a choir of the perfect voices turned husky and wanting. “Holy shit,” teahyun breathes his hand pressed right to your lower back, your feet dangling right off the edge of the bed, toes only just barely touching the ground. 

“Doesn't she feel amazing?” kai asks, “fuck i bet she fits like a fucking dream,” gyu adds as he walks over to the other side of the bed climbing in to lay against the headboard. His zipper was already undone, pants low on his hips as he watched you get pounded into. 

Because tae was not holding back anymore, it felt like he had been waiting all night for this exact moment, to chase his high without question. And your pussy was so welcoming, sucking him in, practically begging for his cum. 

Yeonjun walked around the bed, zeroing the camera in on you as your legs bend, heel of your feet pushing on taes thighs. Taehyun wraps his hands in your hair, tugging your head back, extending your throat to the camera, arching your back just right, “i want to be able to watch back how you looked while i fucked you okay?” 

“Oh, look at that, huening marked up our toy already,” soobin reaches out a finger, tracing over the hickey kai had left on your skin, your eyes were wide and begging as you watched him, mouth caught open in a moan as taes thrusts turned sloppy. “Fuck, look at that mouth,” 

yeonjun bent down to catch the image. “I think someone needs to fill it,” 

Soobin didn't need to be told twice. He was tugging his cock out of his jeans, leaking precum already dotting the tip as he gave it long languid strokes. Your mouth was already watering at the sight, knowing taking him down your throat would be a task but one you wouldn't back away from. 

But taehyun was already cumming, orgasm cresting as he slammed his hips into your ass, cock twitching as he let out a deep rumbling moan. He let go of your hair, head falling forward into the duvet as he stilled inside you pressing as close as he could get, the tip of his cock hitting you just right as he spilled inside you. 

“I want next!” gyu calls out, raising his hand like he knows the answer to a question. 

“No-” soobin starts but beomgyu is already moving from his stop on the bed as taehyun pulls out, the gush of warmth leaving your cunt dripping down your thighs. Yeonjun is quick to catch the sight on film. 

“Look at that,” it sounds so endearing coming from him, a true sight to behold as you whine from the feeling of being empty. You feel like a ragdoll as soobin pulls on you, tugging you further up the bed so that you're on your hands and knees in front of him. 

“Open,” his tip is already prodding at your lips. You feel the bed dip behind you, gyu finding his place as he drags his fingers through the leaking cum traveling down your legs, he does his best to shove it right back into you, fingers dragging over your clit, circling it as soobin shoves his cock right into your mouth. 

You give a muffled yelp, tongue flattening to make it easier for him to slide in and out of. His head is rolling back, hair spilling around his ears as he moans. He twists his fingers in your hair, both hands wrapping around your head to bob you up and down on his dick like his own personal toy. You're nails dig into the sheets, the sloppy sounds of him fucking your throat taking up the most sound. 

Beomgyu keeps one hand on your clit and the other guides his cock into you, he's quick to snap his hips forward sending you forward on soobin, until you're choking for air. Moans sending vibrations up along soobins shaft. His eyes tighten, needing to pull away before he cums too quickly, face flushed red as rivulets of your saliva still connect you to him. 

The constant pressure put on your clit from beomgyus fingers has your stomach tightening in knots. Now that you're not taking soobin in beomgyu picks up his pace, the skin on skin slapping sounds melding with your whines. “I want you to cum for me, i want to be the first one to make you cum, please,” he sounds so desperate, not matching the way he drills into you, tip hitting your cervix in a mix of painful pleasure. He can feel your fluttering walls, every particularly hard thrust making your cunt react just right. And when you cum hes a blubbering mess, “fuck fuck fuck-” not expecting to cum so fast, but youre drawing it out of him, with each little sound you make. He's almost embarrassed by how long he cums for, head falling forward to rest on your shoulder blade, his dick pulsing inside you, curses turning to nonsense, the drawn out, “fuuu- ahh, ah,”  

“Look at how pretty she looks when she cums,” yeonjun smiles, bringing the camera close to catch the way you are trying to blink the spots from your vision, “soobin next? Or maybe kai? Both of them seem to have waited so long for you,” 

Kai leans back against the dresser, arms crossed as he watches you, expressionless as he follows the shape of your body. Only one of your tank tops straps are on, your breasts already spilling out from the thin fabric, soobins eyes caught on your peaked nipples as he strokes himself. But you look back over to huening, the way he's standing there like he's unaffected at all. But you know it's not true, not when he's straining in his pants, the bulge itself drives you insane. “Hyuka?” 

The shyness in your voice is what does it for him, beomgyu only just pulling out of you with a hiss. More cum dribbling out as he pushes his hair back looking at his handiwork. Yeonjun is right next to him too, getting the perfect shot. 

Taehyun languidly lounges back against the headboard, cock still hard as it rests against his stomach, hand wrapped around the base as he watches you. It distracts you enough not to see kai moving replacing gyus spot. 

Kai wraps his hand in your hair but unlike taehyun he forcefully pushes your head down into the mattress. The whole mit of his hand cups your skull, your whimper making him chuckle. His free hands traced up your side, slipping under your tank top as he feels along your skin. “You know I was thinking about this the whole walk back after our study night?” his hand dips down fingers sliding along your wetness, “i kept thinking about how perfect it would be to absolutely ruin you,” 

You're already sensitive from finishing already and kai can tell as your thighs tremble but it wont stop him from pinching your clit. Your hips push back against him, yelping as he goes on to rub circles over the bundle of nerves. “Seeing it happen- watching you get used as a little cum dump is so much better than I ever imagined,” he works your clit, building up his speed until your back is arching, nails biting into your palm as you feel your orgasm building too quickly. You're trying to rock back into his hand but the way he has you bent helps very little. Your cries heighten until he pulls it all away. 

“No huening please!” 

“Aww how cute, she's begging,” beomgyu laughs and you're whimpering in response. 

“Kai…please!” 

“You're already doing so well because i want you begging to be filled with my cum, crying from how badly you want it,” his hand goes back to your cunt, pressing into your clit rubbing at a pace that has you seeing stars, your hands scratch out for looking for anything to hold onto. Yeonjun takes your hand in his keeping the camera facing your reaction as your eyes roll back. Its in the middle of your climax that kai pushes his cock into you, finding a punishing rhythm as he fucks you into the matterss. 

“Beg for it,” he growls, hand in your hair twisting in the strands. You can feel him all the way to your throat, stretched out so good, he presses right into your gspot like he was made for you. 

“P-please- hyuka i need it- i-” you cant even get the words out anymore, the squeaking of the bed building as he increases his speed. You can hear the wet sounds of the other boys jerking off, “i want your c-cum, i need it,” 

“Louder,” yeonjun mutters in front of you, your death grip on his hand not loosening anytime soon. 

“I want it! I need your cum, please!” But Huenings is so lost chasing his own high that he drops his hand from your clit to grab your hip, his bruising hold and brutal thrusts making you cry out. 

Beomgyu reaches down under you, fingers finding just the right rhythm to send you over the edge at the same time kai cums. His faltering thrusts and throaty moans makes you feel weak. Your cunt is strangling his cock, his release pushed as deep as he could get it into you. When he pulls out you collapse onto the bed, completely used up. 

It feels never ending body too tired already when you feel soobin climb into the bed. He lays right behind your exhausted form, both of you on your sides facing yeonjun, “look who's next, do you think you could get another one out of her? I hear you're only a freak in theory and not practice,” 

But soobin doesn't take the bait, one hand sliding under you and wrapping around your chest, hand coming up to cup your breast, fingers twisting your hard nipple, and the other lifting your leg to get better access to your leaking cunt. Your thighs are so sticky soobins fingers slip on his hold, having to tighten his grip to make sure he can keep you open. He's been ready since the start, his cock aching as it prods your now puffy swollen cunt, so used you're sure you would be sore for days. 

When he sinks in your whimpers are so soft they are hardly heard. Yeonjun is kneeling on the floor, arm holding the camera resting on the bed. He captures the way soobins dick slides in with ease, no resistance now with how much slick is coming out of you. Every drag of soobins cock comes away stained in white. A ring of the combined cum circling the base, balls sticking to your skin with every thrust. 

His breathy moans are lost against your neck, pitiful little sounds before he's muttering, “im sorry, oh god- im-” 

“Don't you dare cum yet,” yeonjun warns soobin, who pauses his thrusts trying to listen but can't find it in him to restrain. Yeonjuns fingers pinch at your clit, your whole body reacting to the feeling, jolting you back to life as you cum. soobin unable to handle the pressure and is a complete mess, whimpering as he pulls you closer, hugging you as if he could merge bodies. 

It took him a while to finally pull out, a much needed break for only a few breaths before yeonjun passes the camera to taehyun to keep the filming going. You can feel the weakness all the way down to your bones, sure if you stand you could collapse to the floor, legs too weak to hold you up. But yeonjun is looking at you like you're being served on a silver platter, all done up with all the best fixings. 

“Best for last huh?” he grins climbing over you brushing under your eye to catch a single tear that's fallen from your overstimulation. “Its so fun to see you so dumb on cock, so unlike how we usually see you,” 

You hum in response as he pushes your legs open, hands at the back of your knees pushing them to your chest. When he puts them over his shoulders you whimper, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks into your wet heat. Bent in half you feel your toes curling, sure that if you came one more time you would be better off sleeping for the next year. “I think this is good practice, don't you?” he asks like you'll respond to him with anything other than a string of muffled whimpers. Your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat, sticking to his skin as he takes a slow pace. It's like he's apologizing, lips peppering across your cheek, down your neck. “We’ll keep you so happy, stuffed full like you deserve. Would you like that?” 

You're nodding, eyes closing as he uses you. You don't even notice the way your body is reacting, that slow rise of your next orgasm building up, “i-” you can’t think about cumming again already feeling so dumbed out. 

“Hum? Are you going to cum, pretty?” he picks up his pace, sinking his hips and hitting you right against your g spot. Your head rolls back as it washes over you, body tightening until you feel like you’ve combusted into little particles. “Oh look at that, so perfect for me, your pussy feels so good when it's squeezing me like this,” it's all he says before he’s trembling, a guttural moan taking over as he cums, you swear you can feel its warmth spreading throughout you. And when he pulls out he takes the camera back from taehyun focusing it in on the sight of all the combined release staining your folds. 

“Look at how she pushes it out,” beomgyu says, mesmerized by the way you look leaking so much cum. But it's Kai who leans down, fingers collecting anything he can before shoving all the cream right back into you. “Its almost like she wants us to fuck it right back in,” 

🏷taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 @tomorrowxforever r @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii i @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh @wand3rlustm3

thank you so much to @beomiracles @prince-jjae and @thetxtdevil for beta/proofreading the first part of this fic!

[taegimood]

— my girl (c.yj) ♡

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader genre: friends to lovers, non-idol au, smut, fluff rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 6.1k warnings: unprotected sex, pwp (6k but most of it is smut tbh lol), softdom!yeonjun, inexperienced!reader, dry humping, oral + fingering (f receiving), squirting, petnames (baby, princess, doll, good girl, pretty girl), daddy kink (yeonjun refers to himself as daddy), spanking, creampie, multiple orgasms, light choking but not (he doesn’t squeeze), one instance of spitting, it’s established that jun is older than reader so OPPA IS USED AS AN HONORIFIC and idc if people hate it lol as a korean speaker i’m tired of westernizing shit

a/n - pls picture temptation era hair yeonjun 😵‍💫 this is inspired by a dream i had.. dreamt every part in his room up until the actual penetration 😮‍💨 cockblocked by my own brain

masterlist

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yeonjun’s sheets are soft as you sit observing his bedroom, taking note of all the little details that his strong personality shines through, the first time you’ve seen the other side of his door — though how you even got to this point in the first place is still something you’re going over and over in your head as you wait for him to come back.

his soft smile is met with your nervous one as he enters the room with two water bottles in hand, shutting the door quietly behind him — your eyes follow his lithe fingers as he turns the lock — and you watch as he places the drinks on his nightstand before turning to you.

the air suddenly feels much warmer when he sits down on the bed beside you, so close that you’re almost touching, and that fond look on his face only serves to heighten your nerves as you remember that he knows what he’s doing, and you don’t.

well… sort of.

everything happened only a few hours before.

your best friend kai had invited you to hang out with him and his roommates, a chaotic group of guys who you’ve grown to call your friends as well; even yeonjun, who you may or may not have developed the hugest crush on ever from the minute that you’d first met him.

it’d been a few months of back-and-forth, sometimes convinced that it must be mutual and other times doubting your judgement completely — has he always been this flirty, or is it your imagination when his eyes linger just a little too long? — and it was on this fateful day at their apartment when it all fell apart.

(or should you say, all came together).

everyone knows to watch out once beomgyu’s got a couple of drinks in him, so it was only a matter of time before your unlucky day came when he’d decide that you would be his glorious first victim of the afternoon; and that was exactly where you found yourself as he took it upon himself to announce to everyone in the room that you and yeonjun needed to admit you wanna fuck each other already, or else he’d “just have to do something about it himself” (whatever that meant).

to say you wanted to crawl into a ditch and die would be the biggest understatement of the century.

your wide eyes were pinned to the floor as the room erupted into multiple reactions; soobin groaning with a smack upside beomgyu’s head as he scolded the younger not to say stuff like that, taehyun’s “damn,” as he knocked back his beer to cover a laugh, kai burying his head into his hands with a shriek — he swore he didn’t mean to spill your secret to beomgyu a few weeks ago, it just slipped out — and of course, the culprit in the center laughing his ass off unphased.

the only one who had yet to say anything was…

you steeled yourself and glanced up, meeting yeonjun’s eyes that were already watching you from across the living room.

your own widened marginally.

he didn’t look disgusted. he didn’t look put off. in fact, he looked…..

your breath caught. there was a small upturn to his lips, a confirmation, the hint of a smile that solidified as he quirked a brow as if in question. as if he was asking you,

“well? what should we do about it then?”

and everything changed from there.

~

it hadn’t taken long for beomgyu’s quick-moving attention span to be directed elsewhere thanks to some faithful effort on hyuka’s part, the others following suit to spare you from the spotlight — and it was only about an hour later when you found yourself alone in the kitchen for a breather, the sounds of your friend’s quarreling and laughter slightly less eardrum-shattering now from where you stood leaning against the sink.

a few minutes passed before the sound of someone else slipping into the room grabbed your attention.

your peace quickly morphed into apprehension.

“hi,” yeonjun whispered, a small smile on his face that read somewhere between gentle and amused.

his hands were in his pockets as he came to lean casually against the counter opposite you, head tilted slightly to the side as his eyes trailed over your expression, and you cursed your mouth for going dry at the sight of him.

his simple black tank top and sweatpants combo had you fighting to keep your eyes on his face — his face, pretty and framed so nicely by silky black hair that was grown out quite a bit longer than usual these days, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it as your thighs rubbed together subconsciously.

“…hi,” you whispered back.

he breathed out a small laugh.

“i wanted to talk to you, but i didn’t want the others to hear.. figured this was a good opportunity when i saw you get up.”

“r-right..”

why am i so awkward? what the fuck? oh god wait why is he coming closer-

your hands gripped the counter behind you as yeonjun stepped forward. his voice was low, quiet, meant only for you as he stood in front of you with a look on his face that had you melting in more ways than one.

“listen... i know that we’ve never talked about this thing between us. i didn’t wanna scare you off by being too forward, but now that beomgyu ran his mouth about it…”

with a feather-light touch, yeonjun reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“well, i’m not gonna deny what he said, and i’m pretty sure that i’m right when i say.. i think you want me the same way that i want you.”

you felt heat running down your entire body like a zap of electricity.

your fried brain didn’t even have the chance to fully process before you heard beomgyu shout from the living room, “hey, what’s taking so long?!” and the scent of yeonjun’s cologne was like a drug as he leaned in and whispered in your ear,

“if you feel ready to see where this goes.. stay here with me when they go out.”

and just like that he was gone, random assortment of snacks in hand to avoid suspicion as he called back to beomgyu, “i’m coming, just couldn’t decide what to eat!”

and you slumped against the counter with legs like jelly.

~

you received a chorus of groans and boos when you told the guys you were gonna go home instead of joining them elsewhere for dinner and drinks, earning brief suspicion only from taehyun as he eyed you questioningly for a moment — their focus primarily resting on yeonjun’s uncharacteristic opt-out that he’d blamed on a sudden migraine.

you felt ridiculous as you even headed down the elevator with them to the street outside, going out of your way to be believable, rounding the corner towards the subway station until they were well out of sight in the opposite direction before heading back up towards the apartment.

you’d’ve been lying if you said that you didn’t consider leaving yourself; your jittery nerves and quick-beating heart nearly convincing you, until you remembered the look in yeonjun’s eyes and the wetness between your legs returned.

yeonjun, choi yeonjun, one of the most popular and charismatic guys that you know — wants you.

and now here you are on his bed.

when you think about it, in your eyes yeonjun is a lot of things that you’re not; the way he just naturally draws people in, the way he carries himself, always making friends so easily; the fact that he’s genuinely cool, somehow good at everything he does and always looks hot doing it; he’s older than you — not by much, but still — and the number one thing on your mind right now:

he’s experienced.

now you’re no virgin, but your measly 1 past boyfriend is nothing in comparison to the fact that yeonjun’s ability to please a woman is a very well-checked box on his long list of skills (if beomgyu is correct about anything he’s blabbed about, at least. which today so far he seems to be).

and now, as he sits here so close to you with that same look on his face as before, that gentle smile and amused little twinkle in his eyes — well, you know right then that you’re a goner.

“hi,” he whispers, just like he did in the kitchen earlier, and you whisper it back with a shy smile.

this is the first time you’ve ever truly been alone with him.

he looks at you for a few moments, and you wonder if this is what amoebas feel like under a microscope until he places his hand on the bed beside you and rests his weight on it, by default leaning in even closer than before.

“i like you.” he says simply.

in panic mode, you resort to sarcasm - “y-yeah-“ you clear your throat - “um, yeah, i think we established that.”

his laugh sends tingles through you as a real smile not stricken with awkwardness finally blooms on your face, the ice slowly melting for you as you start to remember that right, okay, he’s a friend and not some unreachable deity (for the most part, at least).

“i.. like you too,” you respond sheepishly, and you bite your lip at the underlying shift in his tone as he keeps his eyes locked on yours and says,

“i know.”

the mood has suddenly deepened into something else.

his hand comes up to your cheek, thumb ghosting over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “is this okay?” and you don’t know when his face got so close to yours but your eyes are already threatening to flutter shut as you hum in response, lidded gaze glued to his full, pretty lips that you want so desperately all over your body.

“words, baby.” his voice is a whisper, breath warm against your lips, his own so close now that you can almost feel them —

“y-yes.”

and just like that, choi yeonjun is kissing you.

whatever you thought a real kiss was supposed to feel like, whatever kisses you had felt with your ex —

none of it compared to this.

you feel his smile when you quietly moan, his lips even softer than you had imagined, moving against yours slowly, deliberately, expertly, the hand that had been on your cheek sliding gently to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss.

his tongue is warm and soft as it traces along your bottom lip, and you don’t care how eager you probably seem as you let it in immediately, trying not to moan again as he slips it past your lips to caress yours; you melt as he sucks lightly on your tongue before giving a teasing, gentle bite to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

you can’t even imagine how dazed you must look — but his knowing smile tells you enough.

you can’t explain it, but in that moment you gain a hunger-fueled confidence. you want to give yeonjun everything.

fuck, you want him bad.

you’re pulling him back to you faster than you can chicken out otherwise, and the pleased noise he makes as you connect your lips again only spurs you on further to do what you’ve been so badly wanting to:

you touch him, hands sliding from his shoulders up to his soft hair, pulling at it gently as his lips travel down your jaw to suckle at the skin of your neck; you moan, freely this time, eyes sliding shut and head tilting back to give him all the access he wants as you wrap an arm around his shoulders and keep him close.

his hand slides around your waist to your lower back as he slowly guides you down to lay against his sheets, your legs instinctively widening for him as he slots his hips between them, and you groan at the bulge now resting comfortably against your clothed core.

it doesn’t take long before he gently rocks his hips forwards.

you whimper, clutching to his tank top as he continues to kiss and suckle along your neck; your legs tighten around his hips and his lips tilt into a smirk against your skin as your body responds to his like it’s what it was made for, and so he does it again, this time continuing into a steady rocking pace.

the hardness of his cock drags deliciously against your center as he rolls his hips into it again and again, slow enough so that you feel everything, but firm enough that it makes your head spin and your thighs twitch with need.

“oppa,” you whisper, pleadingly, and you don’t even know what you’re asking for but you know that you just need more.

“hm?” he hums back, lips still sucking pretty bruises into your neck,

and it’s like he can read your mind as he asks with another smirk against your skin - “want more, baby?”

you nod quickly with a weak, “mhm,” and your heart jumps as his lips move up to your ear.

“tell oppa what you want.”

the husk of his voice sends shivers straight downwards.

he pulls away just enough for you to meet his eyes and you feel like a rabbit hunted down by a fox, but in your case, you never want to escape from his grasp.

“i.. i-i want…”

you can feel the heat blooming in your cheeks, remembering once again how much you haven’t experienced, and you want to tell him exactly where you want him to put his mouth — but instead your eyes avert from his as you mumble in admission,

“i-i’ve never been… well i’ve never been eaten out before. s-so.. um..”

in your peripheral you can see yeonjun’s brows lift to his hairline in disbelief. “what?”

a finger beneath your chin gently draws your gaze back to his and the genuine bewilderment in his eyes is enough to deepen your blush as he asks, “how could that bastard have possibly survived never tasting you?”

your body buzzes with electricity as your eyes widen; there’s a hunger and determination dancing in yeonjun’s stare that you’ve never been looked at with before.

his intensity makes you shiver in anticipation and it’s like you can taste the honey dripping from his words when he says,

“let me make you feel good, baby. let me give you everything that he should’ve.”

your head spins.

you’ve never felt so desired.

the second that you say okay, yeonjun places one last dizzying kiss to your lips before he’s moving down your body, guiding you out of your shirt as he slowly maps out your skin with his lips — you breathe out a sigh at the way his large hands caress you, intentionality in every touch.

eventually he sits up on his knees, pulling back from a kiss to your navel to reach for the hem of your panties. you shiver when his fingers ghost over your hips.

“lift for me,” he instructs softly, and you do, biting your lip as he begins to slowly pull them down, eyes glued to your cunt, and you watch the way his breath hitches in his throat at the strings of wetness that cling to the fabric.

“fuck,” he whispers, practically groans,

“can’t believe no one’s ever tasted such a pretty pussy before… gonna eat you so good, baby..”

you’re going out of your mind with need, his words alone sending another gush of arousal to your heat, your hungry eyes traveling down to trace the imprint of his rock-hard cock in his sweatpants.

teasingly you ghost your foot over it as he slides your panties from your ankles, and his eyes flicker up to yours as you stare back innocently; his gaze narrows and lips quirk up into a lopsided smirk as his warm hands slide up your legs.

“getting brave, now, are we?” he taunts, stopping at your thighs as he wraps his hands around them and spreads your legs open.

slowly he lowers himself between them, all the while keeping his eyes on yours, and your hips jump at the whisper of his breath against your aching cunt when he says,

“better be careful, doll… any game you try to play, i can play it better.”

and when his fingers spread you open and his lips kiss your clit, you already know that he’s ruined you for any other man.

how could you even dream of anyone else when the tip of yeonjun’s velvety tongue slips out to trace teasingly up and down your slit, or when the pad of his finger circles so lightly around your leaking hole that you might even be imagining it?

no, there’s no way you could be imagining this, not as the warmth of his mouth caresses you as he closes his lips around your clit and gently begins to suck, your head tipping back with a shudder as you whine at the feeling.

“eyes on me, princess,” he murmurs against your cunt, and when you manage to bring your gaze back to his, the sight before you is sinful.

his foxlike eyes dark and dangerous and twinkling as he watches you through his lashes, pretty lips forming a smirk that you can only feel and not see as he whispers “good girl,” - before the next thing you know, his tongue is flattening against you as he licks a firm stripe up your pussy, big hands keeping your jerking hips in place as he begins to ravish you, sucking, licking, kissing, groaning shamelessly at the taste of you and sending vibrations straight through your quivering core as you unravel beneath his touch.

“so fucking good,” he moans, sliding a finger inside of you with ease as he begins to pump it steadily in and out, practically making out with your pussy as you whimper, hands instinctively flying to his hair — you almost pull them away when suddenly he adds another digit, the stretch causing your fingers to tighten in his dark strands as your hips instinctively grind forwards against his mouth.

you’re about to apologize when yeonjun moans even deeper than before.

“that’s it, baby,” he grunts, “use my face. want it so bad, don’t you? go ahead and chase it, cum all over daddy’s tongue.”

something unholy snaps inside of you at that.

“f-fuck-” you cry, doing exactly as he said; you can’t help it as you grind your clit down on his warm tongue over and over and over, hands tightening in his hair as his fingers work impossibly faster, and a new sensation takes over you as the dam breaks and you reach your peak;

you don’t realize what’s happening at first as you’re carried through the most mind-blowing orgasm, until you feel the unusual amount of wetness soaking his sheets and hear yeonjun groaning “fuck, fuck, that’s it, baby, that’s it -“ and he’s three fingers deep as you realize you’re squirting.

it’s as though he can read your body like a book the way he can tell when it’s suddenly too much, his pace slowing gradually until he gently slides his fingers from your sopping hole, placing a final feather-light kiss to your clit before his lips and hands move to soothe your quivering thighs.

“you did so good, baby, holy shit..” the bottom half of his face is soaked in your juices as he mouths along your skin, hands massaging and caressing whatever his lips aren’t kissing;

you’re still bewildered, and can feel the raging blush on your cheeks as you’re quick to blurt in embarrassment, “i-i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to-“

“y/n.” yeonjun looks up. “seriously, that was so fucking hot, you have no idea.”

you can see in his eyes that he’s telling the truth.

“r-really?”

he laughs, finally sitting up; “baby, i- fuck, like, you actually have no fucking idea how sexy you are.” he pushes his hair out of his face and it’s only then that you realize how heavy he’s breathing, the bulge straining against his pants somehow a million times more prominent than it was earlier.

“y/n, i’m so turned on right now that i can hardly think straight. please-“

you meet his eyes again quickly,

“please, i need to be inside you.”

apparently today is the day that you learn just how crazy choi yeonjun makes you, because despite your still-twitching thighs and your pussy so sensitive that you’re sure a slight breeze would send it into overdrive, your body is quick to betray you at his toe-curling words when your walls clench from the emptiness and a fresh wave of arousal gushes from your soaked heat.

“if you don’t fuck me right now i’m gonna go clinically insane.”

his brows lift only for a moment before he’s laughing, swooping down to catch your lips in a kiss. “well we can’t have that, now, can we?”

he gets off the bed, your eyes hungrily tracking his every move as he peels the tank top from his torso and casts it to the ground; “fuck,” you whisper as your gaze trails down the defined ridges of his abs; “fuck,” you groan when he hooks his thumbs around the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls them down with his boxers in one go.

his cock is long and slender and flushed pink, the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen as you imagine the weight of it in your mouth.

if it were anyone else, you’d wanna slap the shit-eating grin right off of his face, but this is yeonjun, and the fact that he knows he’s all that only makes him 10x hotter.

you can’t tear your eyes away from his length as you sit up on your elbows to watch, and he enjoys it, pumping himself in his hand and smearing the pre-cum around his tip with a satisfied hum.

but as he reaches for the condoms in his desk drawer, you surprise both him and yourself when you stop him.

“no.”

he pauses, looking over his shoulder at you with quirked brows —

“want you to fuck me raw.”

his mouth goes dry. you can see the fire dancing in his eyes as he slowly straightens, keeping himself under control as he asks carefully,

“are you sure?”

you bite your lip and quickly nod. “wanna feel you,” you breathe, and that does it for yeonjun as he’s back on top of you in an instant, his lips pressing to yours in a searing kiss as you moan around his swirling tongue.

his hand is on your throat, not squeezing, just resting there as if to say you’re mine, and you whine deep in your chest when you feel the tip of his cock sliding through your slippery folds.

“gonna fuck this pretty pussy so full of my cum that it’ll be dripping out of it for days,” he rasps as he taps the head of his cock repeatedly over your clit, the lewd noise met with your whimpers as you grasp at his bicep.

“please,” you whine, “want it, please-!”

his hand slides from your neck down to squeeze your tit as he sits up and hooks one of your legs over his shoulder with his free hand.

“so good for me,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded and lusting as he looks down at you, dragging his shaft back and forth along your slick pussy; “such a good girl, begging for daddy.”

and when he finally pushes the head of his cock past your entrance, stretching you open as he sinks inside, stars explode behind your eyes and you nearly cum again right there on the spot.

“fuuck..” he groans in a drawn-out moan, eyes sliding shut and head tipping back as your walls suck him in, mouth falling open before he catches his plush bottom lip between his teeth and looks back down at you through hazy eyes, giving another rough squeeze to your tit in his grasp.

he slides his hand down to press against your lower belly as he bottoms out, your hips twitching as you gasp, and with his other hand he grips your leg that’s slung over his shoulder as he begins to grind his hips against yours.

you can’t breathe, can’t speak, overwhelmed by how fucking good it all feels, the head of his cock massaging places inside of you that you didn’t even know existed as he rolls his hips over and over, whispering fucked-out nothings;

how tight you are, how good you feel, how he’s gonna make you forget your own name by tomorrow.

and when he starts really moving, hips separating from yours only to connect again with a lewd slap of skin on skin each time he delivers a slow, firm thrust to your cunt, holding you in place so you don’t jolt up the bed — well, you never knew that something so delicious existed, and now that you’ve had a taste, you’re already rendered insatiable.

you paw at any part of him that you can reach, hands finding purchase on his thighs as his pace picks up into a steady rhythm, your lips moaning and pleading and begging around words that you can hardly get out of your mouth.

“look at you,” yeonjun coos breathlessly, “so drunk on my cock already.. perfect pussy made just for me, hm? taking daddy so well? good baby.”

he looks as blissed out as you feel, face wracked in pleasure as he picks up the pace, his hand so large where it still presses over your lower belly that his thumb is able to reach your clit, and the added stimulation along with the pressure of his palm sends your head lolling as you twitch and tremble underneath him.

“j-jjunie..!” you whimper, and you can’t help the nickname from slipping between your lips; you’ve never called him so intimately before, never said his name so freely, but your accidental drop of honorifics seems to stir something inside of him as he groans and fucks you harder;

“say that again,” he grunts as you gasp out from the sudden increase in pace.

“jjunie,” you keen immediately, gripping the sheets, gripping his arms, gripping anything as a muttered curse leaves his lips and his thumb circles faster around your aching clit.

“love it when you say my name, fuck,” he groans, hips slamming into yours and jolting you like a ragdoll as you cry out for him, the knot in your stomach tightening so fast that you swear it’s about to snap, and when he leans forward with your leg still gripped over his shoulder and his cock pounding into you at a far deeper angle than before, fireworks fill your vision as you cum around him harder than you’ve ever came in your life.

“yes, yes, yes, fuck, that’s it, cream on my cock, baby, fuck you’re so- s-so tight, fuck- just like that, let go for me, baby, good girl-“

yeonjun’s voice sounds far away as you spasm around him, his thrusts growing sloppier as your cunt clenches him so tight that it nearly forces him out; he lowers your leg back down to the bed and slows down a little to let you catch your breath but he doesn’t stop, and your watery whimpers are like music to his ears as you clutch onto him desperately.

“t-too much, too much-!” you hiccup, tears spilling from your eyes at all the overwhelming sensations, but you don’t actually want him to stop and he knows it too — he coos at you, hand sliding up to rest on your throat again as he leans down and licks a stripe up your neck to your ear.

“you can give me one more, baby, can’t you?”

a shiver rolls down your spine at the devilish smile in his voice, sweet like honey as he catches your earlobe between his teeth.

“one more so daddy can stuff you nice and full.”

your pussy clenches. “w-want your cum,” you whimper dumbly in response, too fucked out to think of anything else, and yeonjun smiles as he leans back and runs his hands down your body until they reach your hips and squeeze.

“i know,” his thrusts are still steady as he watches you with twinkling eyes; “and i’m gonna give it to you.”

your eyes widen in protest as he suddenly slides out of you without a warning, but the words die in your throat and are replaced with a squeak of surprise when he flips you over onto your stomach instead.

“ass up for me, pretty girl.”

you obey immediately with what strength you have left in your shaky limbs, a quiet whine escaping your throat over not being able to see or touch him anymore.

his little laugh from behind you indicates that he caught it.

“don’t worry, baby,” he soothes as his hands massage over your ass, “we have all the time in the world.”

your heart doesn’t even have time to skip a beat at the promise of his words when suddenly his tongue is on your pussy, your knees nearly buckling at the heat of his mouth as he licks from your clit up to your fluttering hole, and you gasp as he spits on it before his cock enters you fully in one single thrust.

you cry out, knees buckling for real this time as he holds you up, sheets crumpled in your fists as his hips immediately pick up into a quick, dizzying pace.

“love the way you fall apart around me,” he murmurs from behind you, squeezing your ass, “love how you take me so well…”

you want to touch him so badly, want to see the pleasure pooling in his eyes; you don’t have time to respond before he lands a smack on your ass, your surprised squeak spurring him on as he does it again, drilling into your cute little hole like it was made just for him as he breathes out a moan.

from this angle he can see the way your pussy swallows him so hungrily, and his grip on your hips tightens as he drags you back and forth on his cock.

“love.. l-love your.. love this so much… w-wanna be yours…”

he almost misses your dazed mumbling over the loud sound of his hips slapping lewdly against your ass, but he makes out what you said, heart swelling in his chest and cock simultaneously twitching inside of you as he leans forward, his palm sliding up along your spine to brush the hair from your fucked-out face as he pushes your body down against the sheets, chest pressed to your back now and breath caressing your ear as he continues rocking his hips even deeper.

“you’re mine, baby, you’re mine..” he whispers between kisses along your jaw, a reassurance, your soft whimper of a response causing him to bite back a smile as he continues,

“i’ve wanted you for so long.. can’t believe i finally get to have you.” his hand slips beneath you to toy with your throbbing clit, and your ass grinds back against him as a result as you moan wantonly into his sheets.

“i’ve been yours since the.. fuck.. since the second i s-saw you..fuck, p-please don’t stop..!”

your hips are moving with his now as he works your clit faster, mustering your strength and pushing your weight back as you desperately try to fuck yourself on his cock, on his fingers, chasing the rising wave in your belly that’s threatening to break as he meets your quickening movements with his own.

“touch yourself for me, baby,” he murmurs in your ear before removing his hand and propping himself up on his forearms, allowing for a more concentrated angle as he ruts into you, your choked moan muffled by the sheets as you immediately slide one hand down to rub rapidly at your clit, your other one weakly moving to tangle your fingers with his the best that you can;

“gonna cum, gonna cum,” you whimper, drool pooling at your lips, the scent of yeonjun’s cologne and the weight of his body on yours like pure intoxication as he fucks you harder, breaths heavy and staggering in your ear as he grunts,

“cum for me, baby, need to feel it, cum all over my fucking cock-“

and when your third orgasm washes over you, you’re too weak to do anything but let it, body going limp as it wracks over you in pure bliss, the warm feeling of your clenching walls finally sending yeonjun over the edge this time as he shoots his cum into you with a loud and drawn-out moan, voice breaking as he spews filthy words and incoherent curses; he presses his hips impossibly deep against yours before stuttering into sloppy thrusts to fuck himself through the rest of his orgasm as your fluttering pussy milks his cock of every last drop.

the room grows silent save for your heavy breaths, both of your chests heaving as his forehead slumps down to rest against your back; you didn’t realize how tightly you were holding onto his hand until you carefully untangle your fingers from his.

he hisses from the sensitivity as he slides his twitching length out of you.

you look at yeonjun as he rolls off of your back and flops exhaustedly onto his side next to you, and when he meets your eyes, there’s only a passing moment of silence before you both giggle.

his smile is fond and blooming with affection as he rubs a hand up and down your back, moving to smoothe the hair from your face and gently brushing his knuckles across your cheek before resting his hand on top of yours.

“hi,” he whispers.

you giggle again.

“hi,” you whisper back.

“so.. would this be a good time to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

your heart skips a beat and you bite back a smile. “i was worried you’d just want to stick to the sex..” you admit.

yeonjun shakes his head, lips forming into an endearing pout as he laces his fingers with yours.

“nah, you’re stuck with me now, princess,” he grins. “i meant what i said… i’ve been wanting you for so long.”

an indescribable feeling flutters in your chest as you giddily turn your head to bury your face in the sheets, yeonjun laughing as he shuffles closer, rolling you over onto your back despite your giggle-ridden, poorly-executed attempts to fight him off.

you grin up at him and he grins down at you, hovering over you now with a hand on your cheek as his endeared eyes trail over each of your features as if to memorize them.

“my girl,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you tilt your head up to meet his lips when he leans in and kisses you softly, your hands playing with the long hair at the nape of his neck.

“i meant what i said too,” you murmur against him.

“mine since the second you saw me, huh?” yeonjun’s cocky grin is light and teasing as you scrunch your nose at him, flicking his forehead and sending him into another pout.

“yeah, yeah. whatever, pretty boy.”

instead of responding he buries his face in your neck in a flurry of kisses as you squeal in surprise, laughing as you wiggle around underneath him;“stop, that tickles!”

“gotta make up for all the lost time when i didn’t make a move,” he reasons as his kisses move to your cheeks, your nose, your lips — you’ve never seen this side of yeonjun before, so soft and gentle and sweet; the fact that it seems reserved only for you sends butterflies fluttering through your tummy.

you spend your evening like that, wrapped in each other’s arms as you talk about your relationship, talk about the feelings that led you here, talk about this and that and everything in-between;

“does this count as our first date?” you ask quizzically. he wrinkles his nose.

“no way, i’m gonna do the most romantic shit ever for that.”

you snort. “isn’t that what this is?”

but you don’t have the chance to tease him any further when the beeping sound of his apartment passcode being entered causes you both to freeze.

you were so caught up that neither of you considered the time; nor the fact that yeonjun does indeed have 4 other roommates who would in fact be coming home at some point or another.

that some point apparently being now as the rowdy chatter of your friends erupts into the foyer until you suddenly hear soobin’s tipsy mumble. “what the… what are y/n’s shoes doing here?”

you and yeonjun turn to look at each other as your friends’ voices fall silent.

the seconds pass and you almost wonder if you’re in the clear…

but of course, no peace lasts forever with beomgyu in the house.

“OH MY GOD,” he screams.

“THEY FUCKED!”

[cbeargyu]

assigned to you

summary: in a dystopian future where the government enforces arranged marriages to combat plummeting birth rates, you’re assigned a husband—choi yeonjun, a stranger you’ve never met.

pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: dystopia, slow burn, romance, angst, smut, fluff.

warnings: explicit sexual content, soft breeding kink, language, forced marriage system, emotional vulnerability, pregnancy, domestic intimacy, power imbalance due to forced pairing, first time sex, creampie, dirty talk, oral sex,

wc: 19,1k

notes: hi everyone! ✨ so recently this idea popped into my head—i’ve been wanting to write something with an arranged marriage trope but the whole cold ceo x neglected wife thing was starting to feel a bit repetitive, especially since i’ve already written something in that genre (which i still LOVE btw, but i just wanted to try something new) 🥲 then i remembered this anime called koi to uso — it’s about this dystopian world where the government assigns you a partner and yeah… i never finished it because it turned super harem-y and that’s not really my vibe AJSJHSKJJH but the concept really caught my attention, so i thought hmm maybe i should give it a try 🫣

hope you guys enjoy it!! 🫶

everything begins the day you turn twenty.

you wake up to the faint noise of birds outside your window, sunlight filtering through the pale curtains, painting quiet shadows across your bedroom floor. your mother is already in the kitchen, humming lowly, but there’s something off in her tone. a tremble, maybe. or maybe it’s just you. maybe you’re imagining it because today’s the day you have to register.

the day you officially surrender your right to choose who you’ll love.

in this country, love is not a decision. it is a number, an equation, a state-mandated obligation for survival. for years now, the country’s birth rate has been plummeting. desperate to avoid demographic collapse, the government instituted the pairing system: when you turn twenty, your data—genetic markers, temperament, emotional intelligence, compatibility rates—is run through the database. the algorithm does the rest. your match is chosen, your future locked in, and within the year, you are expected to marry and attend compulsory family planning. you have one job: produce offspring.

love is banned unless sanctioned by the state.

you walk into the government building with your hands shaking, your mother squeezing your fingers too tightly, her eyes red-rimmed but dry. she’s been crying in secret, you know. she didn’t want this for you. no one does.

and yet—there is no other choice.

the registration is swift. a photo, a signature, your blood drawn for one final compatibility cross-check. they tell you the letter will arrive in three to five business days. the envelope will be yellow. unmistakable.

“please return home and prepare for assignment.”

you try to keep your days normal after that. university lectures. cafeteria lunches. walking home with your head down, ignoring the couples holding hands across campus, each one with an official barcode tattooed on their ring fingers—a symbol of government approval. your own hand feels heavy just looking at them. branded love. manufactured desire. they never really chose each other.

sometimes you wonder if any of them are happy.

three days later, the yellow envelope is in your mailbox.

you freeze when you see it. fingers trembling, breath caught, skin going cold. the paper almost burns in your hands. you don’t open it right away. you walk straight to your room, lock the door, sit on your bed with your heart racing so violently you think you might throw up. and then, slowly, carefully, you tear the seal.

your eyes skim the top. the official logo of the bureau of demographic affairs. your name, your assigned number. and then:

assigned partner: choi yeonjun. age: 20.

a small, passport-sized photo is attached to the right side of the letter.

you stare.

he’s... beautiful.

cat-like eyes, tilted just enough to make him look a little wild. dark lashes, long and thick. a soft, upturned nose with a gentle slope that suits the elegant structure of his face. lips—full, plush, the kind that look perpetually kiss-bruised even in monochrome. his jaw is sharp but not too much, softened by a slight pout in his mouth. he’s unnervingly symmetrical. there’s a balance to his features, a harmony, like he was designed—crafted—to be attractive.

your throat feels dry.

beneath the photo, there’s a line of text confirming the date of your preliminary meeting—next friday at 2 p.m., government center, family conference room 2B. both sets of parents are expected to attend. your wedding will be planned based on that meeting’s outcome.

you lie back on the bed, letter pressed to your chest, and stare at the ceiling.

it feels... wrong to think this—but he’s attractive. unfairly so. and that terrifies you even more. because you were always taught not to feel. not to dream of fairytales or meet-cutes or falling for someone in the rain. love at first sight is a myth now. it's forbidden. it would disrupt the system. too much emotion, too much unpredictability. and yet—

yet here you are, cheeks warm, heart skipping, staring at the grayscale face of a boy you’re about to marry.

a boy you’ve never met.

friday. 2:00 p.m.government center, family conference room 2B.

you’re early.

your dress is navy, modest, but it hugs your figure in a way you wish it wouldn’t. you didn’t pick it to be pretty—you picked it because it was formal, appropriate. your mother insisted on curling your hair, and your father didn’t speak the entire ride over. only your little brother tried to smile at you, but even his usual mischief was subdued. he kept playing with the sleeves of his hoodie in the backseat, pretending not to be upset.

the building is tall and silent, cold in a way that doesn't come from the air conditioning. it's the sterility of a place that sees life as a series of documents and laws. a place that doesn’t care about dreams.

you sit on one side of the long glass table, your family beside you. your mother keeps wringing a tissue in her lap. your father’s jaw is clenched, his hands crossed tightly. this is the last time they will sit with you like this—before you are someone else's.

and then the door opens.

you hear his voice before you see him. low, warm, laughing quietly at something one of his parents said. and when he walks in, it’s—

it’s hard to breathe.

he’s wearing a black suit that fits too well. slim, tailored, crisp like a page never touched. his hair is pushed back, soft and styled, a few strands falling delicately onto his forehead. and his face—his photo didn’t do him justice. his features move with his expressions, eyes gleaming like obsidian, mouth curved just slightly at the corners as if he’s always on the edge of a smile.

choi yeonjun.

his mother is elegant, her hair in a low twist, expression unreadable. his father looks composed, dignified, already halfway through a handshake with the government official present. this isn’t their first pairing. you remember reading his file—third son. they’ve done this before.

you feel like you’re being auctioned off.

“this is my assigned partner?” yeonjun asks, voice lilting, curious—not judgmental. he’s looking straight at you. and then he bows.

you stand and bow too, polite. your voice stays caught in your throat.

“you’re pretty,” he says softly, once he straightens. “i’m glad.”

it shouldn’t affect you. it shouldn’t. and yet your stomach flutters, just for a second, before you kill the feeling dead.

you don’t say anything. not because you’re rude—but because this isn’t real. this is a performance. this is a sentence.

the government mediator begins to speak, outlining the stages of the arrangement: the preliminary meeting. the planning process. the mandatory cohabitation. the one-year marriage trial before reproduction is expected.

you zone out after a while. your mother is crying again. your father’s voice is hoarse when he answers the legal questions. your little brother won’t look at you. and across from you, yeonjun looks like he’s done this in another life. calm. collected. but not cruel.

then, the mediator clears her throat.

“now, if the parents could please give the pair some time to speak privately. it is customary.”

your mother hesitates. she squeezes your hand until her knuckles turn white. she whispers something—"don’t let them take your heart too, okay?"—and then lets go.

and just like that, you are alone with him.

just the two of you, in a silent room that smells like paper and polished wood.

yeonjun exhales once your families are gone. his shoulders relax a little.

“wow,” he says. “that was intense.”

you nod. your hands are in your lap, clutching the fabric of your dress.

“you don’t talk much, huh?”

you glance up at him. he’s watching you with a soft kind of curiosity. not the kind that pries. more like he’s observing the weather—trying to guess if rain is coming.

“i do,” you say finally, voice quiet. “just... not today.”

he smiles. “that’s fair.”

a pause. he sits across from you again, legs crossed, posture easy, like he’s not under the weight of state surveillance. like this is his decision.

“i know this is strange,” he says. “i’m not gonna pretend it’s not. they pick someone for you, give you a name and a photo, and you’re supposed to start building a future. it's... a lot.”

you say nothing. you’re watching the way his fingers tap on the edge of the table. rhythmical. patient.

“i’m not here to make this harder for you,” he says, gentler now. “i know some people get assigned to assholes. i promise i won’t be one.”

your brows knit together, surprised.

he leans forward, elbows on the table, chin resting in one palm.

“if we have to go through this, we might as well not suffer through it.”

and you look at him then, really look.

his gaze is steady. not forceful. not manipulative. he’s not trying to make you like him. he’s just... honest.

"you’re used to this,” you murmur.

his smile falters. “not really. i’ve just watched my brothers go through it. and i learned what not to do.”

there’s something about the way he says it. like he’s seen what happens when the system doesn’t pair people right. like he knows how love can die before it’s even born.

you swallow, throat tight.

“i didn’t want this,” you admit.

he nods. “me neither.”

silence settles between you again. it’s not awkward. just full. like both of you are trying to breathe in a place with no air.

“but...” he says softly, after a while. “i think you’re interesting. and you’re easy to talk to. even if you don’t say much.”

your cheeks flush, and you hate that you can feel it. he notices, of course. but he doesn’t tease you. he just smiles to himself, quiet and pleased.

“so,” he says, tilting his head. “can i know something real about you? not government data. just... you.”

you blink.

he waits.

slow burn. that’s what this is. he’s not rushing. he’s not playing pretend. he’s offering you a chance to make something human out of something cold.

and even though everything in you is screaming don’t trust it— you speak.

you tell him a little. not much. just enough.

and he listens. attentively. sincerely.

maybe that’s how it starts. not with a kiss. not with a confession. but with someone sitting across from you, asking who you are when no one’s watching.

two weeks later.

the wedding is on a thursday.

you don’t get a white dress. there’s no music, no flowers. no ceremony beyond a document and a pen and the sterile voices of government officials making sure everything is binding and accounted for.

you wear beige.

yeonjun wears black again. no tie this time. his hair is messier, like he didn’t bother too much. he looks good anyway, like he always does. like someone who never had to try.

the room is almost identical to the one where you met: glass, steel, a flag in the corner.

your mother sobs quietly during the signing. your father doesn’t let go of her hand. your brother tries not to look, but when you lean down to hug him goodbye, he hides his face in your shoulder and mutters a broken, “please don’t forget us.”

and that’s when you finally cry.

not loud. not messy. just silent tears running down your cheeks as you sign the paper that says you no longer belong to them. your name next to yeonjun’s. your status: married. active participant in national repopulation initiative.

they even stamp it. a red seal. final. absolute.

you don't remember the ride to your new shared apartment. only the sound of the car, the blur of the buildings, your hands gripping the hem of your coat in your lap like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

yeonjun doesn’t speak for a while. and when he does, it’s soft. careful.

“you don’t have to pretend around me,” he says, eyes on the road. “i know this hurts.”

you don’t answer.

he pulls into a residential complex. government-provided. modern, quiet. two bedrooms, a shared kitchen, everything fully equipped. it smells like fresh paint and new plastic. not like home.

your boxes are already inside. so are his.

the apartment is... neutral. beige walls. grey couch. chrome kitchen. there’s a small balcony, but it faces another building.

you walk into your assigned bedroom and close the door without saying a word.

and to his credit, he doesn’t follow you. not right away.

but now, days pass like fog.

there’s a schedule pinned to the fridge now. a printed routine from the bureau: acclimation period, cohabitation adjustment, health preparation. underlined: mandatory hospital check-up before family planning begins.

you go to the hospital together a week later.

the nurse greets you by your couple ID number.

yeonjun jokes to break the tension—something dumb about feeling like a robot in a factory—and you don’t laugh, but you glance at him sideways. just a little. he notices.

you both go through blood work, fertility testing, infectious disease screening. the nurse asks personal questions. too personal. about cycles and hormone levels and sexual history— you flinch.

yeonjun speaks for you when you freeze.

“she’s not comfortable,” he says simply. “ask me first.”

his voice is calm, but there's steel beneath it. the nurse adjusts her tone after that.

on the ride home, you stare out the window. he drives with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping his thigh, nervous energy he never shows in his posture. it’s the little things you’re starting to notice.

“you didn’t have to speak for me,” you say, finally.

“i know,” he answers. “but i wanted to.”

and again—there it is.

that kindness you didn’t ask for. that warmth he keeps offering, even though you haven’t given him much back.

nights are the hardest.

you pretend to sleep early, even when your eyes stay open in the dark for hours. the room feels too still, too foreign. the bed smells like the laundry detergent they gave you in the relocation kit. the ceiling fan turns slowly, quietly. your chest feels tight, like grief has found a home inside your ribs and refuses to move out.

sometimes, you press your ear against the bedroom wall. you can’t hear much. just the occasional soft shuffle, the hum of yeonjun’s voice when he speaks on the phone in hushed tones. he never speaks long. never laughs out loud. not anymore.

you miss your mother’s voice echoing from the kitchen, your brother’s heavy footsteps running down the hallway. the scent of warm rice and grilled mackerel. the sound of your father clearing his throat before calling everyone to eat.

now, there’s only silence.

until one night, a knock.

not loud. not urgent. just... present.

“hey,” comes his voice through the door. “you don’t have to open. i just wanted to say... i know this feels like the end of everything, but it isn’t.”

you sit up slowly. your hand hovers near the handle but doesn’t reach it.

“i know we didn’t choose each other,” he continues, voice low and careful, “but maybe that doesn’t mean we can’t choose to be good to each other.”

you swallow. your throat feels raw.

after a pause, your voice comes out in a whisper, hoarse but steady. “okay.”

you don’t open the door. but you walk to it, lean your back against the cool wood. and then—almost imperceptibly—you hear the sound of him lowering himself on the other side. sitting with you. just like that. no pressure. just presence.

you stay like that for a while. breathing the same air, separated by a few centimeters and a thin barrier. but somehow... it feels closer than anything else has in weeks.

you don’t talk more that night. but when you finally slide back into bed, you sleep without crying.

that’s a first.

the next morning, there’s tea waiting on the counter.

he doesn’t say it’s from him. but he’s the only other person here, so you thank him anyway.

a nod. a tiny smile. you sip it, and it’s sweet.

from that night on, something shifts. neither of you says it aloud, but the air is different now.

you start having breakfast together. simple stuff—toast, boiled eggs, fruit. you sit across from each other at the tiny kitchen table and talk about nothing. weather. uni schedules. news updates.

one afternoon, you both arrive home soaked from the sudden rain.

you were out grocery shopping. he met you on the walk back by chance. no umbrella. you ran together. you laughed—really laughed—for the first time since being assigned. your clothes clung to your skin, your breath short from the sprint.

in the elevator, he looks at you and says, a little breathless, “you’re kind of cute when you’re mad at the rain.”

you blink at him. cheeks warm. you don't know what to say.

that night, he passes you a hairdryer through your door.

“so you don’t catch a cold.”

you murmur thanks. he lingers in the hallway a moment, like he wants to say something else. but then he leaves.

the next few nights, he knocks more often. never asks to come in. just talks through the door. sometimes you join him on the floor again, your backs pressed to opposite sides of wood. you start to open up. a little at a time.

one night, just past midnight, you both end up in the kitchen again.

you couldn’t sleep. neither could he. you make tea, he brings a packet of cookies.

the city outside is asleep. your apartment is bathed in soft fridge light.

you find yourselves sitting on the floor, backs to the counter.

he asks, voice low, “did you ever fall in love before all this?”

the question feels heavy. you stare into your cup.

“no,” you answer honestly. “i didn’t let myself. what was the point, if it was forbidden? if we were all going to be assigned anyway?”

he nods slowly. you notice the way his eyes flick toward the window, as if remembering something far away.

“i did,” he says finally.

your heart stirs.

“in high school,” he goes on, “i fell for this girl in my class. she had this ridiculous laugh and used to bring snacks for everyone. i liked her for three years. never told her. i thought... i don’t know. part of me really believed she’d be assigned to me.”

you watch the way his lips twist into something halfway between a smile and a wince.

“i used to daydream about it,” he admits, almost embarrassed. “our names printed together on the envelope. hers next to mine. like it was meant to be.”

you don’t say anything. you let him speak.

“and then she got married last year. to someone else. she posted a photo with her husband and... i laughed. like, really laughed. because it was so stupid. how much hope i’d put into something that was never mine to decide.”

you imagine it. the version of him in a classroom, heart racing every time she turned around. young, hopeful. painfully innocent.

you don’t know her name. you’ll probably never meet her.

but you hate her a little.

you hate that she had his love, his dreams, his belief. something you were too scared to even touch.

and you hate that your chest aches when he says her name without saying it.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper. “that it didn’t work out.”

he looks at you, and there’s something tender in the way his eyes soften. “i’m not,” he says after a beat. “i wouldn’t have met you if it had.”

the silence after that is heavy, electric.

you don’t answer.

but you stay there with him. knees almost touching. the scent of tea between you. eyes a little too full. hearts slightly ajar.

the email arrives quietly, with the mechanical ding of a notification breaking the silence of your morning. it’s nothing dramatic—just a government seal, a cold subject line: YOUTH EMPLOYMENT PROGRAM FOR NEWLYWEDS.

you’re still in your oversized sleep shirt, hair loosely tied up, your fingers wrapped around a warm mug of barley tea as you sit at the small kitchen table. the place smells like toasted bread and laundry detergent. yeonjun walks in a few minutes later, yawning, dressed in sweatpants and a faded university hoodie, a slice of toast clenched between his teeth. he glances over your shoulder to see what you're looking at.

you click the email open. it’s from the ministry of social and familial affairs—another mandatory policy. another thing the government arranges for you, like you’re pieces on a board.

“because both parties are currently enrolled in higher education,” you read aloud softly, “the government will provide access to part-time employment opportunities and offer a financial subsidy for essential living expenses during the first year of marriage.”

you don’t say anything for a long while after that. the words hover in the air, bureaucratic and impersonal. but somehow, they make this life feel more real. more permanent. like you’re not just living in a temporary dream—you’re expected to stay here. build something.

“well,” yeonjun finally says, mouth half-full, “that’s... something. we should check it out later.”

you nod, even though your stomach feels hollow.

you still think about that night. the night he told you about his first love. about how he spent three years loving her in silence, convinced she'd be the one fate would give him. the girl with snacks and a bright laugh. the one who got married last year. not to him.

and no matter how much you tell yourself it’s ridiculous, it still gnaws at you sometimes. there’s this faint, irrational heat in your chest whenever she crosses your mind. you don’t even know what she looks like. you don’t know her name. but something about the way he talked about her—with such tender resignation—makes something sour rise in your throat.

you hate that it lingers.

you hate that it hurts.

that night, the rain starts late.

it begins with a steady tapping against the glass, the kind that would normally soothe you—white noise for your thoughts. but then the wind picks up, howling through the narrow alley between your apartment and the building next door, and you know what’s coming.

the first clap of thunder makes you freeze.

your fingers curl around the blanket. your chest tightens. you try to breathe slowly, like your therapist taught you when you were younger. but then comes another one—louder, deeper. it shakes the walls. it shakes you.

you’ve always hated storms. they made you cry as a child, and when you were too old to crawl into your mother’s bed, you forced your little brother to sleep beside you just so you wouldn’t feel alone.

now you’re in a place that doesn’t smell like your mother’s laundry, that doesn’t hold your brother’s sleepy warmth.

you’re alone again. except you’re not. not really.

you don’t think. you just move.

barefoot, your steps light across the cold floor, you open your bedroom door and cross the hall. you knock on yeonjun’s door twice, already feeling embarrassed, but unable to stop.

he opens almost immediately, wearing a gray t-shirt and sleep-tousled hair. his eyes are soft when they meet yours.

“are you okay?” he asks gently, already understanding.

you hesitate. “can i… stay here tonight?”

there’s a beat of silence. he nods, stepping aside without a word, and gestures for you to come in.

his room is dim, smelling faintly of his cologne and clean linen. it’s warmer than yours. there’s a stack of books by his bed, an open laptop with half-written notes still on the screen, a navy blue hoodie slung over the chair.

he grabs an extra blanket and starts to lay it out on the floor, but you shake your head, already trembling from another rumble of thunder.

“i… don’t want to be alone,” you whisper.

yeonjun pauses. and then, slowly, he walks back toward the bed and lifts the corner of the blanket for you.

you crawl in on one side. he lies down on the other. space between you, but not coldness. not indifference.

“i’ve always been scared of storms,” you murmur into the dark. “when i was little, i’d run to my parents’ room. then i made my little brother stay with me. i thought that when i grew up, i wouldn’t be scared anymore. but i guess… i still am.”

you feel the bed shift as he turns onto his side, facing you. his voice is low, almost a hush.

“nothing’s going to break tonight.”

those five words feel like something heavier than comfort. they feel like a promise. and they make something fragile inside you twist.

you’re quiet for a long time after that. the silence is heavy but not uncomfortable. it’s the kind of silence that lets your heartbeat slow. the kind that feels full of something new—something you don’t have a name for yet.

you fall asleep to the sound of rain and his breathing, even and steady beside you.

and when you wake up in the early morning light, his hand is resting over yours.

you slept like a baby.

it's the first thought you have when you blink your eyes open, bathed in the pale light of morning seeping through the curtains. the room smells like faint detergent and something unmistakably yeonjun—warm cotton and the slightest trace of his cologne. the air is quiet now, no more thunder shaking the walls, no rain tapping restlessly against the windows. and your chest feels… calm.

it surprises you, how rested you feel. how deep your sleep was. how safe.

you remember all those nights with your younger brother, clinging to him as the storm rattled outside, whispering stories or counting sheep until your mind shut down from exhaustion. sleep was never easy back then. it was something you wrestled for, clawed your way toward, until it finally overtook you like mercy. but last night... last night, it came softly. it held you.

and now you realize why.

yeonjun’s arms are around you.

not tightly, not possessively—just gently draped, like he forgot to move in the night, like his body instinctively curved around yours in sleep. one of his hands rests over your wrist, the other loosely against your waist, warm even through the thin fabric of your sleep shirt. and his face is so close, calm and boyish, lips slightly parted, his breath even and soft against your skin.

your heart pounds immediately, panic fluttering low in your stomach—not because you’re scared, but because this is unfamiliar. because you don’t know what to do with this kind of tenderness.

you want to pull away. you should. you really, really should.

but instead you stay.

you stay because there’s something about this moment that feels too fragile to break. something inside you, some cracked place, is being filled just by existing in this quiet closeness. and you realize—though you’ve never wanted to admit it—that you’ve been touch-starved for a long time. that there’s a part of you that’s been aching for connection, for warmth, for someone.

his fingers twitch slightly in his sleep, adjusting against your hip, and your breath catches. the movement is innocent, unconscious—but your skin reacts like it’s been branded. you swallow hard, trying to still the storm inside you, even though the one outside is already gone.

you stay like that for several more minutes, listening to the soft hum of the apartment, watching the way the sunlight plays over his features. you trace the line of his brow with your eyes, the soft curve of his lashes, the shape of his lips. he looks so peaceful like this—unguarded, almost boyish. and for a second, you wonder what he’s dreaming about. if he ever dreamed of something like this.

he stirs eventually, a sleepy sound escaping his throat as he blinks slowly awake. his gaze is unfocused at first, but then it lands on you, and something warm flickers in it.

“…morning,” he mumbles, voice still gravelly from sleep.

“morning,” you whisper back, suddenly aware of how close you are, of how your bodies are still tucked together like pieces of the same story.

neither of you moves.

there’s a pause where his eyes search your face, slow and unreadable. and then, with a sleepy smile tugging at his lips, he lets out a soft breath.

“you didn’t run away in the middle of the night. that’s a good sign.”

you laugh quietly, your cheeks burning. “i slept too well to even think about moving.”

he hums, pleased. “me too. i usually toss around like crazy, but i guess… you were a good influence.”

you want to joke. to deflect. but instead you find yourself whispering something real.

“i felt safe.”

his eyes soften.

you don’t say anything else. you just lie there a while longer, not moving, not rushing. there’s a peace in the way your bodies still fit together, in how neither of you seems quite ready to let go.

but the world, eventually, pulls you back. responsibilities, the clock ticking louder in your head. breakfast. classes. life.

yeonjun stretches lazily and finally pulls back, giving you space without question, his smile sleepy but kind. “i’ll make us coffee.”

you nod, watching him slip out of bed, hair tousled, shirt riding up slightly at the back. you press your hand to where his body had been, still warm, and you sit there a little longer, your thoughts spiraling in slow, confused circles.

because even though last night was about fear and storms… this morning feels like the beginning of something else entirely.

the waiting room smells like antiseptic and soft lavender, a strange combination that doesn’t manage to calm your nerves. you sit side by side with yeonjun on a sleek government-issued bench, your fingers clasped tightly on your lap, trying not to let your knee bounce with the anxiety pressing into your chest.

he seems more composed than you are—back straight, hands relaxed, legs slightly spread in his usual confident posture—but when you glance sideways, you notice how he keeps licking his lips, how his jaw clenches just a little every few seconds.

the appointment with the planning officer had been scheduled right after your wedding—clinical, efficient, emotionless, like everything else in this system. you hadn’t talked about it. hadn’t even wanted to think about it. but now it’s here, and there’s nowhere to hide.

“choi yeonjun. choi y/n,” a nurse calls softly from the doorway, clipboard in hand. “follow me.”

you walk side by side into a white, spotless office where a woman in a pale beige suit greets you from behind a desk. she looks to be in her forties, composed, direct, her nametag reading ms. kang – reproductive health officer.

you sit across from her. the air feels heavier now.

“so,” she begins, smiling in that polite, unyielding way government workers do, “you’re about a month into your union. how’s the adjustment been?”

you blink, unsure how to answer. yeonjun speaks first.

“we’re getting used to it. slowly.”

“good,” she nods, tapping something on her tablet. “you’ve both passed the health screenings, no genetic flags or fertility concerns. so the next step is to begin trials of compatibility-based conception.”

you shift in your seat. trials.

“have you already begun your sexual relationship?” she asks, her tone calm, like she’s asking about the weather.

your breath catches. your eyes widen slightly, and your face goes hot. “uh—no. not yet,” you manage, your voice too soft, almost guilty.

yeonjun straightens a little, eyebrows twitching, his tone sharper. “we’ve only been married a few weeks. there hasn’t been time.”

ms. kang doesn’t flinch. she only nods and types something on her screen. “i see. while it’s natural for some couples to take time, we recommend initiating intimacy soon. it will help establish the rhythm of your connection and allow us to track progress for planning interventions if necessary.”

your ears are burning now. her words play back in your head like static: initiate intimacy, track progress.

you glance at yeonjun without meaning to, and he’s already looking at you—but his expression is unreadable. his jaw is tight again.

“we’ll… take that into consideration,” he says curtly.

the rest of the appointment passes in a blur. you nod and agree to things you barely hear, accept pamphlets on fertility monitoring and hormonal optimization. by the time you walk out of the clinic, your skin feels too tight for your body.

you don’t speak on the way home.

you sit beside him on the train, trying to focus on the passing buildings outside the window, but your thoughts keep circling the same place. the way she said it. the expectation of it. and worse—the idea of it.

because the thing is… you’ve thought about it. even before this meeting, in the quiet moments, in the space between shared breakfasts and brushing past each other in the kitchen, in that night you slept in his arms like you belonged there.

you’ve wondered what his mouth would feel like pressed to your neck.

you’ve wondered how his hands would move if he weren’t just offering comfort.

you’ve wondered how his voice would sound if it wasn’t so composed—if it cracked with want.

but that was all private. safe in your imagination. not something stamped into paperwork. not something tracked by government programs and fertility logs.

and now you can’t not think about it.

when you finally get home, it’s too quiet. you move around each other like magnets unsure if they should attract or repel. you both pretend you’re just tired. that it was just a long day.

but the silence drips between you, thick and unspoken.

you head to your room without a word, tossing the clinic folder on your desk like it burns. you try to sleep. but the image of yeonjun, tense and handsome in the cold clinic light, won’t leave your mind. his voice, defensive. his fingers, twitching on his knee. and most of all, the memory of his arm around your waist from that night—the heat of his skin under your palm.

an hour passes. maybe two.

you shift in bed, restless. you toss the blanket off. put it back on. stare at the ceiling. you hear footsteps in the hall.

a soft knock at your door.

you sit up, heart hammering. “come in.”

yeonjun stands there, messy hair and hoodie half-zipped, eyes unreadable in the dim light. he doesn’t come in right away. just leans against the doorframe and runs a hand through his hair.

“sorry,” he says after a moment. “about earlier. the clinic.”

you nod. “it’s okay.”

he looks at you then, longer, and something flickers in his expression—something caught between curiosity and hesitation.

“they make it sound like it’s supposed to be… mechanical,” he murmurs, crossing the room slowly. “but it’s not, right? it’s not supposed to be.”

your breath catches.

he stops by your bed. close enough for you to see the flutter of his lashes, the nervous line between his brows. close enough that you feel the heat radiating off his body.

you don’t know who moves first. maybe it’s you. maybe it’s both of you at the same time. but suddenly, the space between you disappears.

his hand brushes your cheek, soft and hesitant, and you lean into it without thinking.

“i don’t want it to be just… a task,” he says quietly, voice barely a breath now. “not with you.”

you don’t answer. you just let your forehead rest against his chest, your heart beating too loudly, your breath catching in your throat. and when he wraps his arms around you again—warm and strong and familiar—you feel the storm rising again.

but this time, it’s not outside.

it’s you. it’s him.

and it’s not fear anymore.

it’s something else entirely.

you don’t kiss that night.

you could’ve. maybe you almost do. there’s a moment where his thumb brushes the corner of your mouth and your eyes lift to meet his, and you feel it—that shift, like the world holds its breath. but then he steps back, gives you a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and says goodnight in a voice that’s too soft, too careful.

he leaves your door cracked open behind him. and somehow, that’s worse than closing it.

after that, the tension lingers—thick and quiet like smoke.

in the mornings, you find yourselves together more often than not. your coffee mugs sit side by side now. sometimes you forget whose is whose. he steals sips from yours and you pretend to scowl, but your heart trips every time your fingers brush when you both reach for the sugar at the same time.

you fall into a rhythm. not romantic. not domestic. but something else. something intimate in a quiet way.

when the job placement emails come through, you sit together on the couch, scrolling through them on your shared government-issued tablet. yeonjun lands a spot as an assistant at a community cultural center downtown—flexible hours, reasonable pay. you get placed in a local library, part-time shelving and cataloguing.

it’s not exciting. it’s not your dream. but it’s… stable.

“at least we won’t starve,” yeonjun says one evening, his arm slung lazily over the back of the couch behind you. “thanks, government.”

you snort. “maybe next year they’ll assign us a kid and a dog, too.”

he laughs—really laughs, loud and full—and something about the sound makes your chest ache. it makes you want to say something dumb just to hear it again.

but what sticks with you, what haunts you, is that night after the storm. not because of what happened—because of what didn’t.

and what happened at the clinic. what the officer said. what yeonjun said after.

you think about it too much. think about him too much.

and you think about her.

the girl he loved once. the one he talked about in that quiet, midnight voice, when the rain had softened and you were wrapped in his hoodie like armor.

you remember how his gaze turned distant as he spoke of her, how he confessed that he truly believed she’d be the one assigned to him. that he waited. that he hoped.

how the disappointment burned when he found out she wasn’t.

and you shouldn’t feel anything about it. it’s in the past. he told you that.

but sometimes, when you catch him staring into space or fiddling with that little leather bracelet he always wears, your chest twists a little. and you don’t know why.

you’re not in love.

you’re not supposed to fall in love.

yet it keeps slipping in—quiet and slow. like water through cracks.

one evening, it rains again. not a storm, just a steady drizzle that makes the air smell clean. you’re both tired from work and university, but neither of you wants to be alone in your room.

you sit on the windowsill together, knees touching, sharing a bowl of strawberries yeonjun bought on the way home. the fruit is sweet and cold against your tongue.

“i used to love the rain,” he murmurs, watching it trail down the glass. “when i was a kid, i’d sit on the porch for hours just listening. it felt like… everything else stopped for a while.”

you glance at him. his profile is soft in the dim light, his hair falling slightly over his eyes.

“it used to scare me,” you admit quietly. “storms, i mean. as you may know...”

he smiles without turning to you. “you were scared.”

“yeah.”

there’s a pause.

“you weren’t scared the other night,” he says. “not with me.”

you shrug. “you made it easy not to be.”

the silence that follows is gentle. not awkward. just… full.

“do you think it’s still possible?” he asks suddenly. “to fall for someone? even with all of this?” he gestures vaguely, and you know he means the system, the laws, the matching algorithms and fertility checkups and pre-written life paths.

you don’t answer right away. you don’t know how to.

“i think we’re not supposed to,” you say after a long pause. “but maybe… that doesn’t stop it from happening.”

his eyes find yours then, and they don’t look away.

your heart stumbles.

neither of you speaks. the air feels like it’s crackling again—not with lightning, but with something just as dangerous.

the next night, you fall asleep on the couch together. not planned. not anything.

you were watching something. you don’t even remember what. but you woke up with your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, heartbeat steady against your ear.

you don’t move. you can’t move.

it feels too good. too right.

his shirt smells like laundry soap and skin. his fingers shift in his sleep, brushing lightly along your back. it makes you shiver. it makes you think about things you shouldn’t.

you stay there until the sun begins to rise.

you pretend to be asleep when he finally stirs and lifts his head slightly, blinking at your face. you feel the weight of his gaze.

but he doesn’t move either.

and neither do you.

because something’s changing. you both feel it.

you just don’t say it. not yet.

not until it’s too loud to ignore.

and maybe that moment is coming faster than either of you is ready for.

you try not to overthink the moments.

you try.

the accidental sleep on the couch becomes less accidental. the next week, it happens again—this time during a shared late-night study session. you're both exhausted, papers and notebooks strewn across the coffee table, half-finished cups of coffee gone cold.

you wake up tucked under the same blanket, the light off, the tablet blinking low battery on the floor. yeonjun is beside you, his legs tangled with yours, his breathing soft against the crown of your head.

he doesn’t say anything when you open your eyes. he’s already awake, watching you, and when he sees you stir, he whispers a faint “morning” like it’s a secret.

you nod, throat dry. “morning.”

neither of you moves.

and maybe it’s the silence. maybe it’s the way his hand is resting lightly on your hip, not possessive, not bold—just there.or maybe it’s because of the way your name sounds in his voice lately—gentler, more familiar, too intimate for two people who were supposed to be strangers made spouses.

whatever it is, it roots itself deep in your chest, wraps vines around your ribs, and refuses to let go.

but things are still complicated.

you remember the appointment at the family planning center far too clearly. how the sterile walls and uncomfortable chairs felt like a sentence being handed down. the woman at the desk, clipboard in hand, speaking in clinical terms while smiling too much. the questions.

“have you two begun sexual relations yet?”

your body stiffened so fast it hurt. you’d shaken your head, cheeks burning.

“no,” you said, barely above a whisper.

and then yeonjun.

his voice didn’t waver. didn’t shrink. but there was a hint of something—offense, maybe, or just discomfort buried beneath practiced calm.

“not yet.”

not yet.

those words echoed for hours after.

the woman nodded, unbothered, flipping her pen in one hand.

“you should consider beginning soon,” she said, checking off a box. “intimacy will help strengthen the emotional bond and allow us to begin identifying which fertility path will suit your needs. the government recommends couples begin within the first ninety days of union.”

you had never wanted to disappear more.

the walk home was silent.

yeonjun didn’t mention it. you didn’t either.

but it sat between you like a stormcloud, buzzing with electricity, waiting to crack open.

you catch him watching you more after that. not in a bad way. not in a way that makes you feel unsafe. no—it makes you feel too safe, and that’s somehow worse.

he’s careful. always. but he’s still a boy. and you’re still you. and your bodies know things your minds are afraid to say.

the small space you share only makes things more dangerous.

his cologne clings to your pillows. your lotion starts appearing on his arms. he hums the songs you listen to in the shower. he buys your favorite snack without asking.

you start wearing his shirts to sleep without realizing. you only notice the third time it happens—when he stops in the hallway and his eyes dip, linger, then flick back up with a quiet clearing of his throat.

“is that mine?”

you glance down at yourself. it’s an old oversized gray tee. soft. worn. familiar. his scent baked into the fabric like sunlight.

“uh… yeah. sorry. it was just on the chair and—”

“keep it,” he says, not letting you finish. “looks better on you.”

you go to bed that night with your skin buzzing.

and things only build from there.

he starts cooking more, pulling you into the kitchen with an easy “help me” that really means just stand here while i talk to you. you lean on the counter while he cuts vegetables, while he stirs sauces, while he tells you about his classes and how boring statistics is, how he almost fell asleep mid-lecture. you laugh and call him dramatic. he grins and tells you it’s your fault for not waking him up when he left.

“you’re supposed to be my wife now. you have responsibilities.”

he says it like a joke. you laugh like it is one.

but your heart stutters anyway.

one night, it rains again. not a storm, just heavy and constant, soft thunder echoing in the distance. you find yourself awake at midnight again, restless, curled on the couch in the living room with your knees tucked to your chest.

yeonjun finds you there.

he doesn’t say anything—just sits beside you, close but not touching, and watches the rain drip down the windows.

“can’t sleep?” he asks.

you shake your head. “not really.”

“you okay?”

you nod, even though you’re not sure.

the air between you hums. it’s familiar now. this closeness. this heavy, unsaid thing growing slowly between shared silences and sidelong glances.

you lean your head on his shoulder, unsure why. maybe it’s because the rain feels lonelier tonight. maybe it’s because it feels like something is shifting again.

his breath hitches almost imperceptibly, but he doesn’t move away.

“do you think they’re watching us?” you ask softly. “the government, i mean. checking how fast we fall in love. how fast we sleep together.”

he’s quiet for a moment.

“maybe,” he says finally. “but they can’t measure the parts that matter.”

“like what?”

he tilts his head toward yours. “like this.”

you feel the words like fingertips down your spine.

you close your eyes, and his shoulder under your cheek feels like solid ground.

this is the moment where maybe everything could change.

but you don’t kiss. not yet.

you breathe in together.

and for now, that’s enough.

the power cuts out a little after ten. it happens suddenly—an abrupt flicker, followed by darkness swallowing the apartment whole.

you blink, heart skipping, your body already tightening with reflex from the sound, from the silence that follows too quickly.

then the soft sound of rain begins again.

but unlike the last time, this one is gentle. no thunder, no flashes of light through the windows. just rain, steady and calm like fingers tapping against glass. it’s the kind of rain that makes the night feel softer than usual. quieter.

yeonjun lights a candle he keeps in the drawer near the kitchen, its flame swaying in the center of the living room table, casting shadows on the walls. he brings it over to the couch where you sit curled up under a blanket, your knees pressed to your chest, already waiting.

he joins you without asking.

“guess we’ll have to pretend we’re in the 1800s,” he murmurs, glancing at the candle.

you laugh softly. “at least you’re not reading me poetry.”

“don’t tempt me,” he grins.

the silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable. it rarely is now. something about the rain, the flicker of light, the way you’re seated side by side with your shoulders barely touching, it all feels… close.

your gaze drifts to the window, where the raindrops race each other down the glass. and before you can stop yourself, your thoughts start circling again. you’ve been doing that more and more—ever since that night. ever since yeonjun told you about her. the girl he loved in high school. the one he thought would be assigned to him.

you swallow. your chest tightens, not with pain exactly—more like an unfamiliar ache. something raw you haven’t named yet.

“can i ask you something?” you say, voice quiet.

yeonjun hums, eyes still on the candlelight. “of course.”

“i haven’t stopped thinking about her.”

he turns to you, brows faintly furrowed. “who?”

“the girl you were in love with.”

his expression doesn’t change much. he just blinks slowly, watching you. “why?”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “i don’t know. maybe because… i’m jealous of her.”

that makes him laugh—soft, surprised. “jealous?”

you nod, heart pounding. “yeah. i guess it’s stupid. but… she got to be your first love. she got all of you when it meant something. and now, i’m just—”

“my wife?” he cuts in, still smiling, trying to lighten the air. “you’re my wife now. kind of a win, don’t you think?”

but you don’t smile back.

you turn to face him, the dim light catching on your lashes, your jaw tight. “it’s not the same,” you say softly. “i know this is supposed to be a marriage, but it doesn’t feel right… hearing about your past like that. it’s not fair. it’s not fair that i have to be the one who came after.”

yeonjun’s smile fades. the playfulness drains from his face, replaced by something heavier. something slower. he looks at you like he’s really seeing you now—like maybe he’s been seeing you all along but didn’t know how close you were to unraveling.

“hey,” he says quietly, voice low and careful. “you’re not after anyone.”

you try to look away, but he catches your chin between two fingers, guiding your eyes back to his.

“she’s the past,” he murmurs. “but you—you’re the present. you’re the one who’s here. who sleeps beside me. who leaves hair ties on the bathroom sink and wears my shirts and steals my side of the bed.”

your lips part, but no sound comes out.

“don’t do that to yourself,” he whispers. “don’t compare. it’s not the same because this is real. and growing. and you—”

he leans closer.

“you make me forget her name.”

you blink, breath catching. the air feels different now. the candlelight flickers between you, but you can barely see it. all you can see is him—his face inches from yours, his voice warm and deep and trembling just enough to make your pulse race.

“yeonjun…”

“can i kiss you?” he breathes.

you nod.

slowly, his hand slides to your jaw, his thumb brushing the soft skin beneath your cheekbone. he closes the space between you inch by inch, giving you time to pull away, but you don’t. you lean in.

when his lips finally meet yours, it’s not fireworks. it’s gravity.

you sink into it, into him, into the warmth and tenderness of it. it’s careful, at first—testing, soft, a question asked in the silence. but then you tilt your head, fingers finding the collar of his shirt, and he answers with a deeper kiss, one that pulls a sound from the back of your throat you didn’t expect.

it’s too much. it’s not enough. it’s everything all at once.

when you finally part, you’re breathless.

he presses his forehead to yours. the candle crackles gently nearby. the rain keeps falling.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper.

“don’t be,” he says, brushing his nose against yours. “i should’ve known. i should’ve said something sooner.”

you shake your head. “no. i needed to feel it. to say it. i think i’ve been holding everything back since this marriage started.”

“me too.”

you both fall quiet again, but this time, it’s different.

you’re not two strangers trying to survive a system anymore.

you’re two people finally reaching across the space that was never meant to last.

and outside, the rain sings soft lullabies to the city, and the candle flickers like a heartbeat, and in his arms, you no longer feel like a second choice.

you feel chosen.

the next morning, something has changed.

it’s subtle. nothing overt. not at first.

you wake up earlier than him and find yourself just… watching him for a moment. the soft rise and fall of his chest. the curve of his lashes against his cheek. how he frowns slightly in his sleep, like he’s still half in a dream. you should look away—you’ve always looked away before—but now your eyes linger.

when he stirs, blinking against the light, he sees you watching. he doesn’t flinch. he just smiles, sleep-warm and real, and your heart does something uncomfortable and sweet in your chest.

“morning,” he murmurs, voice rough.

“morning,” you whisper back, your voice catching a little.

he reaches out lazily, his fingers brushing your arm beneath the blanket, and even though it’s nothing, just that, your breath hitches. you tell yourself it’s the closeness. the aftermath of the kiss. but the warmth in your chest says something else.

and then the day goes on—but not quite the same.

at breakfast, he sits closer than usual. your elbows touch when you both reach for the sugar. he doesn’t apologize like before. doesn’t pull away. just grins and bumps your shoulder on purpose this time.

you roll your eyes. “you’re annoying.”

“you kissed me last night,” he says, way too casually. “you don’t get to call me annoying anymore.”

“you asked first.”

“still counts.”

the banter is light, teasing, familiar. but under it, there’s a new current. an awareness. every glance feels heavier. every touch lingers a second longer than it should. when he hands you a dish, his fingers brush yours, and neither of you lets go right away.

the silence between you becomes something else entirely. no longer filled with obligation or awkwardness. now it feels like a question that neither of you is brave enough to answer out loud.

until it happens again. in the kitchen, late at night, as you’re washing dishes and he comes up behind you. at first it’s innocent—he says something dumb, you laugh—but then his hand finds the small of your back, and you freeze, not because it’s wrong but because it’s not. it feels too good. too natural.

you turn, slowly, water dripping from your hands, and he’s already looking at you like he wants to kiss you again.

he doesn’t. not yet. he just leans in and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. his fingers graze your cheek, his eyes drop to your lips, and then—he walks away.

you stand there for a moment, heart pounding, wondering how the hell he keeps doing this to you.

a few days later, you’re invited to visit your family.

it’s your first time back since the marriage. your parents had called to check in, of course, had even video called once or twice, but nothing replaces being home. your mother’s cooking. your father’s quiet warmth. your brother’s chaotic energy.

the moment you walk through the door, your mom pulls you into a hug so tight you almost cry again. your dad claps yeonjun’s shoulder, awkward but trying. your brother, now twelve, looks like he’s grown taller.

he eyes yeonjun up and down, squints a little, then smirks at you.

“so, are you pregnant yet?”

you freeze.

your dad chokes on his tea. your mother lets out a gasp so sharp it could cut metal. yeonjun’s eyes go wide—like someone just yanked the floor out from under him.

“yoonho!” your mom yells, already reaching for the nearest dish towel like it’s a weapon. “you can’t ask that!”

“what?” your brother yells as he runs from her, laughing like a maniac. “i just wanted to know if the government system’s working!”

your dad is still coughing. you’re standing there redder than a tomato. burning with mortification.

yeonjun, after a stunned beat, laughs. really laughs. full chest, head-tilted-back laughter that’s so contagious you can’t help but giggle through your hands.

“don’t encourage him,” you say, smacking his arm lightly.

he grins down at you, eyes sparkling. “i’m sorry, that was—really something.”

“he’s an idiot,” you mutter, still mortified.

“he’s your idiot,” he says, voice softer now.

you glance up at him and smile, something warm spreading in your chest. it surprises you, just how much that smile feels like home.

and even after the chaos settles, even after your mom manages to drag your brother back by the collar to apologize properly, even when you sit around the table laughing and eating and telling stories—there’s a small, secret current running beneath it all.

the way yeonjun’s hand grazes your lower back when he leans past you to grab a dish. the way you lean into him just slightly when your mom starts talking about your childhood, and he listens like he wants to know everything.

and when the night ends, and you both return to your apartment, it’s quieter—but it’s a good quiet. that kind of peace you only feel when someone’s truly, finally getting under your skin.

the drive back home is quiet, but not in a bad way. it’s the kind of silence that lingers after too much laughter, after too much emotion crammed into too little time. the windows are fogged slightly from your breaths, and the hum of the road is the only sound between you. outside, the city lights blur in soft halos, the streets wet from the rain earlier in the day, reflecting neon and moonlight.

you’re leaning against the car door, eyes heavy, body full from dinner, from memories, from everything. your family had insisted you stay the night, but you knew it would’ve made leaving harder. too emotional. too permanent. so you thanked them, smiled through the tightness in your throat, and left.

and now, here you are, beside him. yeonjun’s one hand is on the wheel, the other resting between the seats, fingers tapping idly against the console. you glance at it once. then again. his profile is calm, a faint curve to his lips like he’s still smiling at your brother’s chaos.

you break the silence first.

“sorry about today… my family can be a lot.”

he lets out a soft chuckle. “i liked it.”

you turn to him, a little surprised.

“really?”

he nods. “they’re… warm. chaotic, yeah, but it felt real. like they love you so much they don’t even try to hide it.”

you press your lips together, looking down at your lap, suddenly blinking back something stinging in your eyes. you weren’t expecting that answer. or maybe you were, but not the way it made your chest ache so gently.

“thanks,” you whisper.

you don’t realize you’re still staring at him until he speaks again, this time softer.

“and your brother…” he smirks a little. “i can’t believe he said that.”

you groan, hiding your face in your hands. “please don’t remind me.”

“i’m serious,” he laughs, and then looks over at you, his gaze lingering longer this time, “you were so red.”

“because it was embarrassing,” you shoot back, but your voice is lighter, warm with the trace of a smile.

his eyes flick down to your lips.

“you’re cute when you blush,” he murmurs, and it’s so quiet you’re not even sure he meant to say it out loud.

your breath catches. your heart stutters. suddenly the space between you feels smaller. the console is no longer an arm’s length—it’s a breath. the air is thicker. hotter.

you look at him, really look at him—his jaw sharp in the glow of passing streetlamps, the tendons in his neck tense, his grip on the wheel a little tighter now. he looks back, just briefly, but it’s enough. something electric pulses between you.

and then he pulls over.

not far from your building, not quite home yet—but enough to be alone. enough to pause. the engine hums low, a steady heartbeat in the silence. he doesn’t look at you right away, just stares forward, fingers tightening, loosening, tightening again on the wheel.

you feel your pulse in your throat.

“i…” he starts, then stops. he turns to you, eyes darker than before. clearer. “can i ask you something?”

you nod, heart racing.

“why did it bother you?” he asks quietly. “about the girl i told you about.”

you stare at him. that familiar heat returns to your chest, crawling up your neck. you bite the inside of your cheek before answering.

“i don’t know,” you lie at first. but then, you sigh. “maybe because it was real for you. maybe because… you had someone you wanted, once. and i never did. and now i’m supposed to just… live with that. pretend like i’m not wondering if she would’ve made you happier.”

he watches you for a long moment, expression unreadable. then, finally, he leans a little closer, voice low.

“do you think i’m not happy?”

your throat dries.

“are you?” you whisper.

he exhales slowly, shaking his head like he can’t believe he’s about to do this. and then he shifts, fully turning toward you. his fingers reach up, brushing lightly against your chin, lifting your face to his.

“you’re not her,” he says. “you’re you.”

and then, without waiting, without asking again—he kisses you.

it’s not urgent. not rough. it’s slow, deliberate, tender with something sharp hidden beneath. like he’s been holding it back for too long and now that it’s happening, he’s pouring everything into it. his hand cups your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek. your lips part before you even realize, and his tongue grazes yours, soft, testing, like he’s still asking if this is okay even now.

you melt into it.

your hand slides up his arm, gripping his bicep, grounding yourself as heat spreads through your veins. your bodies don’t move much, still confined by seatbelts and space, but it’s intimate. intense. and when he finally pulls back, breathing harder than before, he rests his forehead against yours.

“you’re not her,” he whispers again. “and thank god for that.”

you sit there, breaths mingling, skin flushed, hearts racing in tandem. your hand is still on his arm. his thumb is still tracing your cheek.

and this time, neither of you says a word. because you both know—something just changed again.

you’re not lovers. not yet.

but your hands brush again on the way to bed. he holds your gaze a little longer. and when you lie down, back to back, you find yourself pressing closer, just enough that your spine feels the heat of his chest.

you fall asleep like that.

and neither of you says a word.

you both had an appointment early in the morning. the ministry of civil labor had sent a formal notice last week, listing the available part-time positions for couples still enrolled in university, and now you were seated across from an administrative worker who barely looked up from her screen as she explained the contracts. yeonjun was placed in a logistics department for a government-run supply chain—something with inventory and system inputs. you were assigned to a small local archival center where they'd digitize old birth and marriage records, which felt ironic in a way that made your stomach twist.

“you’ll receive your first schedule by the end of the week,” the woman said without emotion, and you both nodded, signing at the bottom of the page, pens scratching the paper in tandem.

walking out of the building, yeonjun nudged your shoulder with his and whispered, “look at us. signing contracts like a real married couple.” and you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile pulling at your lips.

“you mean we weren’t real before?” you asked, raising a brow.

he smirked, unlocking the car and opening your door. “we were married on paper. now we’re married... and employed.”

you both laughed, climbing into the vehicle, and the warmth lingered even after the engine hummed to life. it was a quiet kind of happiness, soft and simple, like the feeling of your bare thighs against the leather seat, like the sun warming the dashboard. you wore a dress that day—casual, nothing too fancy, but it clung lightly to your frame in the breeze when you walked out earlier, and you caught the way yeonjun had looked at you from the corner of your eye. not blatant. just... noticing.

the road was mostly empty. the hum of tires on pavement filled the silence as the laughter faded, replaced by something thicker. something weightier.

at a red light, he stopped the car smoothly, one hand still on the steering wheel. the other lifted, slowly, casually, and without looking at you, he placed it on your thigh.

he didn’t squeeze. he didn’t slide his fingers higher. just let his palm rest there, warm and firm, like it belonged.

your breath hitched.

you tried not to move, tried not to tense up, but the sensation crawled up your spine like wildfire. it was such a simple touch, so ordinary, but it landed somewhere deep in your belly—hot, twisting, coiling. your skin tingled where his fingers barely pressed into the flesh, and your thighs felt suddenly, achingly aware of how little separated them from him.

he said nothing.

neither did you.

but your body betrayed you—the way your chest rose a little faster, the way your knees shifted slightly, as if trying to find an answer to the question that touch had asked.

the light turned green.

he drove on.

his hand didn’t move.

the silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was charged. heavy with something that neither of you dared name yet.

you exhaled, slow and shaky, and he glanced at you briefly, lips curving—not into a smirk, but something softer. something fond. he rubbed his thumb in a slow arc, barely there, and your fingers curled around the hem of your dress to keep from shaking.

by the time you got home, the tension had woven itself into your skin like a second layer. you both stepped out of the car and walked toward the apartment quietly, but the air buzzed with every step.

inside, the routine resumed—shoes off, bags down, water poured into glasses—but your thoughts were nowhere near the surface. every time he passed behind you, you felt his presence more than you saw him. every brush of his hand, every graze of his arm felt like a firestarter.

you stood near the sink, rinsing the cups, when he came up behind you. didn’t touch you. just stood close enough that you felt the heat of his chest on your back, close enough that your breathing stuttered.

“need help?” he murmured, voice low, mouth near your ear.

you shook your head, but your body leaned slightly into him anyway. traitorously.

his hands didn’t move—not yet—but his presence surrounded you, a quiet pressure that built with every second. you turned your head slightly to glance at him, and the proximity was enough to make you both pause. your lips weren’t touching, but they could’ve. your noses almost brushed.

and then he reached for the cup beside you, taking it slowly, deliberately, his fingers brushing yours. your breath caught again.

“thanks,” he said, voice still low.

you watched him walk away, your hands trembling under the water, and you knew—tonight, you wouldn’t be able to pretend this tension didn’t exist. it was burning its way into your bones.

that night, everything felt like it was humming. the silence between you wasn’t really silence—it was full of what hadn’t been said, of what hadn’t been done but nearly was. the ghost of yeonjun’s hand on your thigh still lingered, burned into your skin. your legs still tingled from the pressure, the weight, the heat. and when he brushed past you in the kitchen again after dinner, it felt deliberate. or maybe you just wanted it to be.

your heart hadn’t settled since the drive home.

later, after you’d both changed into your sleep clothes, you met again in the hallway, the light above you casting a golden hue that made his skin look warm and soft. you paused at the same time, eyes locking. your breath caught in your throat, because he wasn’t just looking at you—he was seeing you. seeing the hem of your shirt, the way it clung slightly to your waist. seeing the bare stretch of your legs, your collarbone, the fine line of your neck.

you thought he’d say something.

he didn’t.

he just stepped past you, heading to the shared living room like usual. the storm from earlier had passed, leaving a cool breeze in its wake. you followed, drawn to him like always. you both sat on the couch, feet tucked beneath you, shoulders close but not quite touching. it was dark. the power had gone out temporarily again, only the soft blue emergency lights casting faint shadows across his face.

“you’re quiet,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

“just thinking,” he replied, his tone low, almost distant.

you turned your head toward him. “about what?”

he hesitated. “about earlier... the car. and how it felt.”

you sucked in a soft breath. “me too.”

silence again.

and then, slowly, as if guided by instinct, he reached over and touched your hand. fingers brushing the back of yours. the contact was small. barely anything. but it was enough to pull the air from your lungs. you turned your palm and laced your fingers with his.

it felt dangerous.

he looked at your joined hands like he didn’t recognize his own, and then back at you—his eyes darker than usual, hooded, like he was holding back a tide. you weren’t sure who moved first. maybe it was him. maybe it was you. but one second you were sitting apart, and the next your bodies were angled toward each other, your knees brushing, your breaths tangled. his hand cupped your jaw gently, fingers trembling against your skin, and he leaned in, close enough that his lips nearly grazed yours.

your pulse roared in your ears.

his mouth touched yours like a whisper—featherlight, testing.

you responded before you could think, lips parting for him, heat blooming low in your stomach like wildfire. the kiss deepened slowly, wet and slow and dizzying. his tongue brushed yours, cautious at first, then more certain, like he needed to taste you, like he was starved. your hand curled into his shirt, tugging him closer, and he groaned softly into your mouth, deep and breathless.

his hand slid down your side, fingers skating over the thin fabric of your sleep shirt, and you gasped when they reached your hip. he pulled you into his lap, your thighs straddling him, bodies pressed together too close to ignore. the heat between you crackled—your hips shifted without thinking, and you felt the hardness of him, solid and hot beneath you.

his lips broke from yours for a second, his breathing rough. “fuck... y/n...”

his hands gripped your thighs, sliding up, thumbs brushing the edge of your underwear. you whimpered, pressing closer, grinding down gently. it was heady. dizzying. perfect.

and then—

his phone rang.

the sound shattered the moment like glass.

you both froze.

you were on his lap, panting, trembling, your lips swollen from the kiss, your heart pounding like a war drum. he didn’t move for a second. then he cursed under his breath and gently lifted you off him, muttering a strained apology as he reached for the phone. his voice cracked when he answered, trying to sound normal.

you stood there, stunned, breathing hard, still tasting him on your tongue.

after the call, which only lasted a few seconds, he didn’t look at you.

“i think... i’ll sleep in my room tonight,” he said quietly.

you blinked. “oh.”

he didn’t explain.

he just walked away.

and something cold settled in your chest.

you crawled into your bed alone, wrapping the blanket around yourself tightly, but you couldn’t sleep. not when you still felt the ghost of his hands on your body. not when your lips were still tingling from the kiss. not when he had looked at you like he needed you, and then walked away without a word.

you turned over. again. again. and again. your heart ached with confusion. was it too much? did he regret it? had you done something wrong?

you couldn’t take it anymore.

you got up, padded down the hall to his room, and raised your fist to knock.

but then you froze.

because you heard it.

soft, muffled sounds, irregular breathing. your eyes widened.

a low groan, deep and drawn out.

then a quiet, wet sound—rhythmic, unmistakable.

your breath caught.

you didn’t mean to listen. but you couldn’t move.

then, you heard it.

“y/n...”

your name, moaned out—quiet but desperate. raw. like a confession.

your knees weakened.

another moan, louder this time, almost a whimper.

and then—your name again, breathless, almost broken, followed by the sound of skin slapping softly against skin, faster now.

he was close.

he was touching himself.

thinking of you.

you pressed your palm to your mouth, trying not to make a sound, cheeks burning, body trembling. you shouldn’t be here. you shouldn’t hear this. but your legs wouldn’t move. your breath came in shaky gasps, your heart thundering as heat rushed between your thighs, pooling heavy and hot.

you didn’t know what this meant.

but you knew one thing.

he wanted you.

and now, you didn’t think you could ever look at him the same again.

you didn’t mean to lean closer.

you didn’t mean to press your ear too tightly against the door.

but your balance faltered—just a second too long standing on your toes, your weight shifting, your breath too shallow—and suddenly your foot slipped on the edge of the smooth hallway floor. a soft, startled sound escaped your throat as your body tilted sideways, your hand fumbling for the wall, failing.

and then—thud.

a soft crash, your hip hitting the floor, your palms slapping down just in time to soften the fall. you gasped and quickly clamped your hand over your mouth, praying he hadn’t heard, that you hadn’t been loud enough—but inside, panic bloomed like fire. your chest heaved as you tried to stay perfectly still, your cheeks on fire, the oversized t-shirt—his t-shirt—riding high around your waist from the fall.

then you heard the shuffle. footsteps. hurried. a sudden rush from the other side.

“y/n?” his voice was sharp. worried. confused.

before you could react, the door swung open.

and there he was.

yeonjun.

bare-chested, sweat clinging to his collarbones, his hair disheveled, lips swollen and flushed, his hand still adjusting the waistband of his boxers as if he hadn’t had time to fix himself. and then he saw you.

on the floor.

his shirt up around your waist.

your bare thighs. your panties exposed.

your hand covering your mouth, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

time froze.

he stared at you, blinking once, then again. his mouth parted, but no words came out. his gaze dropped—just for a heartbeat—but you saw it. the flicker. the hunger. the tension that snapped into existence like a spark to gasoline.

you scrambled to tug the shirt down, cheeks burning, breath caught.

“i—i slipped, i wasn’t—i mean—”

“were you listening?” his voice came out low. rough.

you opened your mouth, then shut it. your throat tightened. your heart was pounding so violently you felt it behind your eyes.

“y/n…” he whispered, stepping closer.

your breath hitched.

“i heard you,” he said, his voice strained now. “outside the door. you… you heard me too, didn’t you?”

you nodded slowly, like it was all you could manage.

he knelt beside you without thinking, his hands hovering for a moment before one slid to the small of your back, the other cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin gently, eyes searching yours. “you heard me… say your name.”

you couldn’t speak.

“fuck,” he whispered. “i didn’t mean for you to know. i tried to walk away because i couldn’t control it. i thought... if i gave us space—”

“why?” your voice cracked. “why did you walk away after kissing me like that?”

his jaw clenched. “because i wanted more. i wanted too much.”

your lips trembled. “me too.”

something inside him snapped.

he surged forward, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that was no longer restrained. this wasn’t careful. this wasn’t gentle. this was weeks of stolen glances and soft touches and building need exploding all at once. his mouth was hot, possessive, his hand slipping to your thigh, then gripping, pulling you into him as you moaned against his lips.

you tasted everything—desperation, desire, the salt on his skin from sweat, the sound of his breath ragged and wild. you clung to him, your fingers digging into his bare shoulders as he leaned you back slowly onto the hallway floor, his body covering yours, fitting against you perfectly. your thighs opened for him without thought, welcoming the pressure of his hips between them, the hardness of him pressing directly against the wet heat soaking your panties.

“fuck, y/n,” he groaned against your mouth, “you have no idea what you do to me.”

his hand slid beneath the hem of the shirt—his shirt—the one you wore to sleep every night, the one that smelled like him. his palm caressed your waist, your ribs, then cupped your breast softly over the fabric of your bra, his thumb teasing the sensitive peak until you whimpered, arching up into him.

“you shouldn’t be here,” he rasped, but didn’t stop. “i’m trying so hard to do this right. to be careful.”

“then don’t,” you whispered back, your voice broken, needful. “don’t be careful.”

his eyes burned into yours.

his lips kissed down your jaw, your neck, biting softly at the tender skin just below your ear. “you’re gonna make me lose it,” he growled.

“maybe i want you to.”

his hand slipped lower, over your stomach, fingers grazing the band of your panties—when suddenly—

a sharp knock on the front door shattered the moment.

you both froze.

his chest rose and fell against yours, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

another knock. then a voice from outside.

“government delivery. lights restored. system check.”

“fuck,” he hissed.

he helped you sit up, both of you breathing like you’d just run miles.

you looked at each other.

your lips swollen. your skin flushed. your bodies aching.

you wanted to scream.

but instead you swallowed it down, tugged the shirt over your thighs, stood on shaky legs. he followed you in silence, running a hand through his messy hair, still visibly hard, still clearly affected.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered.

you didn’t respond.

because you weren’t sure you wanted him to be.

you weren’t sure what you expected when you whispered, maybe i want you to. maybe you thought he would pull away, maybe he’d laugh and tell you to go to bed, that you were just talking nonsense, caught up in the tension of it all. but he didn’t. instead, the room stayed still, save for the thrum of the rain against the windows and the sound of his breathing, which was slow, deep, heavier now, as he looked down at you with something dark and burning in his eyes.

his voice was low, but not soft. "do you know what you're saying?" he asked, barely above a whisper. you nodded, your throat too tight to speak. you could feel his body, warm and solid, pressed against yours as he leaned in again, and this time the kiss wasn’t tentative. it was hungry, deeper, drawn out, and you could taste the restraint in him, the way he held himself back even as his hand gripped your waist tighter.

you barely noticed how he guided you back onto the mattress until your head hit the pillow. your fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, the same one you'd stolen from him to sleep in, and now it was twisted between your hands as he kissed you again and again, lips trailing down the line of your jaw, the hollow of your throat, your pulse fluttering under his mouth.

every touch was slow, deliberate. when his hands slid under the hem of the shirt you wore, it wasn’t rushed—it was reverent. he looked at you like you were something sacred, something he’d been aching for, something forbidden and now finally his. his fingers traced the line of your hip, the soft skin just beneath your navel, pausing just above the waistband of your panties. you shivered beneath him, your body responding before your mind could catch up.

"tell me if you want me to stop," he murmured, his forehead pressed against yours. you shook your head immediately, a breathy no escaping your lips before you could second guess it. and something in him broke. or maybe it snapped into place. he kissed you like it was the only thing keeping him alive, his hands roaming, learning the shape of you, the softness of your thighs, the arch of your back as you gasped under his touch.

he took his time. he whispered how beautiful you were, how long he had wanted you like this, how the thought of you in his bed had driven him insane since that first night the storm pushed you into his arms. every kiss lower was met with a pause, a glance, asking, confirming, cherishing. his hands didn’t fumble; they explored, gentle and firm, his mouth hot against your skin.

you had never felt like this before. it was more than arousal—it was a kind of unraveling, a melting of all the fear and restraint you had carried for so long. the rules, the systems, the cold logic of the world outside—none of it existed here. here, in his arms, you were just a girl wanting a boy. no laws. no assignments. no duties.

just him. just you.

and when he finally touched you, really touched you, the moan that escaped you was soft, stunned, your fingers digging into his shoulder as he kissed the side of your neck. you were wet, aching, needy in a way you hadn’t even known your body could feel, and yeonjun seemed to know exactly how to handle you—teasing, stroking, whispering your name like it was a prayer.

his own self-control was fraying at the edges. you could feel it in the way his breath hitched, the way his voice broke when he groaned your name against your collarbone, the way his hips rocked against your thigh without even realizing it.

"you make me crazy," he whispered, biting gently at your shoulder. "since that kiss. since that first night. fuck—i think about you all the time. you wearing my shirt, you laughing in the kitchen, you sleeping next to me—"

"yeonjun," you gasped, your back arching as his fingers slid beneath your panties, finally, finally touching you where you needed him most. he cursed under his breath, kissing you again as your legs parted naturally for him.

he kept you on the edge, slow, patient, as if he was memorizing every sound you made, every breath you took. he didn’t rush to have you—not yet. this was still the prelude, the first taste, the careful unraveling. but you were close. too close.

and then.

he leaned over you again, lips brushing your ear, his voice hoarse. "can i make love to you?"

you nodded, heart pounding. "yes. please."

every movement after that was reverent, every sigh swallowed into a kiss, every tremble in your limbs steadied by his hands. he helped you out of your panties, gently, and shed his own clothes with a kind of urgency that was quiet, controlled, but full of need. when he settled between your legs, he paused, eyes meeting yours with a question so full of tenderness it made your chest ache.

his hand wrapped around himself, and your breath caught in your throat. he was thick, long—too much. your eyes widened without meaning to, and he noticed, chuckling softly as he kissed the corner of your mouth.

“it’s okay,” he whispered, but your voice came out shaky when you murmured. “it won’t fit…” he hushed you gently, his palm stroking down your thigh.

“we’ll go slow,” he promised, though the way his jaw clenched told you even he was struggling to hold back.

the stretch was new, unfamiliar, but he moved slowly, letting you adjust, kissing you through the discomfort, murmuring praises against your lips. he held you like you were fragile, like the world would stop spinning if he hurt you, and when you finally relaxed around him, he moved with a rhythm that spoke of restraint and reverence, yet underneath it burned a fire he could barely contain.

it was gentle, yes, but not shy. it was soft, but not without heat. the way he groaned when your nails scraped down his back, the way he whispered your name like it anchored him—it was everything. his hands never stopped touching you, his mouth never far from yours, and the way he looked at you made you feel like you were the center of the universe.

the pace picked up only slightly, but the angle shifted when he gently maneuvered your body, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before whispering, “turn around for me, baby.” your heart skipped as you obeyed, rolling onto your stomach, your cheek resting against his pillow, flushed and dazed, breath hot against the fabric. he settled behind you, large hands caressing the curve of your hips, his voice low and rough against your ear. “you look so good like this… fuck, i could lose my mind.”

you felt him guide himself back in, slower this time, deeper, and the gasp that left you was nothing short of a whimper, your back arching instinctively. the new position had him hitting that spot—the spot—with a precision that made your eyes roll back, your mouth dropping open against the pillow. “yeonjun—oh my god—” you choked, voice muffled, and he groaned above you, one hand gripping your waist as the other gently turned your face just enough so he could kiss your parted lips. “look at you,” he breathed, panting, watching your blissed-out expression with dark, desperate eyes. “you feel so fucking good—so tight around me… you were made for me, weren’t you?”

your voice came out broken, shaking. “it feels s-so good… i can’t—yeonjun, i—” but you didn’t need to finish. he could feel it. your body clenching around him with every slow, deep thrust. he bent over you, chest pressed to your back, skin to skin, and whispered filth in your ear in between kisses down your spine. “such a good girl,” he rasped, “taking me so well… fuck, i’m close. i can’t—i need to pull out…”

you nodded weakly, barely able to breathe, trembling as he gave one more thrust, then another—and with a strangled moan of your name, he pulled out and spilled his release onto the dip of your lower back, hot and heavy against your skin, dripping down to your ass. he groaned, his forehead against your shoulder, panting hard as he tried to come down from the high. “fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmured, voice ragged. “so fucking perfect.”

when he collapsed beside you, he didn’t pull away. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, both of you still catching your breath. the rain still tapped gently against the windows, the room now full of the scent of sweat and skin, of something new, something sacred.

"i’ve wanted you for so long," he murmured against your hair.

"i know," you whispered back, curling into him.

and for once, you didn’t feel cold. you didn’t feel alone. you didn’t feel like someone forced into something by a cruel system. you felt wanted. chosen.

his.

yours.

the morning came too quickly, the sun bleeding gently through the curtains, casting a golden warmth across the tangled sheets. your body still ached in the most delicious ways, and your skin was marked with soft reminders of his mouth, his hands, the way he held you like you were breakable and wanted all at once. you hadn’t said much when you woke. yeonjun had only kissed your forehead, helped you get dressed, and now you were sitting in the waiting room of the ministry’s planning clinic, the air sterile and overly bright.

the doctor, a warm-looking woman with gentle eyes and an enthusiastic tone, greeted you both like old friends. “ah! newlyweds,” she smiled, scanning her clipboard. “i see you’ve finally started your sexual life together. that’s wonderful news!”

your cheeks flamed immediately, and beside you, yeonjun coughed, suddenly fascinated by a poster about prenatal vitamins on the wall. “uh, yeah,” you mumbled, barely able to meet her gaze.

“good, good,” she said brightly, motioning for you to follow her behind a curtain for a quick checkup. “we need to make sure everything’s healthy and progressing normally. it’s still early, but we want to optimize for fertility, yes?”

you nodded, letting her guide you onto the examination table. her hands were professional, but the whole thing still made your stomach twist. you were sore—still a little tender—and she noticed, humming under her breath.

“you’re fine,” she reassured you, adjusting her gloves. “some sensitivity is natural after a first experience. but you’re healthy, everything looks good.” she smiled. “do you track your cycle, darling?”

you nodded slowly, fingers tightening on the edge of the table. “yes… i keep a calendar.”

“perfect. when was your last period?”

you told her, and she did some quick math on her tablet before her smile brightened. “then your most fertile window should be starting in about four days. if you’re trying to conceive—and you should be, of course—it’s best to be active every other day during that period. that increases the chances significantly.”

you wanted to sink into the floor. “o-oh.”

“don’t be shy. this is natural.” she patted your knee, then stood. “you’re young and healthy. your compatibility score is ideal. You just need to be consistent now. and relaxed. it should be something enjoyable.”

you weren’t sure what your face looked like when you stepped out, but yeonjun blinked and stood instantly. the doctor gave him a little wink and whispered something about keeping the environment fun, and you could practically feel the tension coil between your ribs as you exited the building together.

the ride home was quiet for a while. the hum of the engine, the soft buzz of traffic, the way your thighs were pressed together beneath your dress. he tapped the wheel with his fingers, sneaking glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

finally, you exhaled. “she said i’m entering my fertile window soon.”

his hands stilled on the steering wheel.

“in four days,” you added, your voice too high, too soft.

“oh.”

another silence.

“and she said we should—uh—every other day. during that window. for higher chances.”

“right.” he adjusted his grip again. “makes sense.”

but neither of you looked at each other. because the thing was, last night hadn’t felt like a scheduled duty. it hadn’t felt like a requirement, or a step in a plan designed by the state. it had felt messy, desperate, slow, sweet, and hungry. it had felt human.

and now the idea of doing it again, like you were just checking off boxes on a clinical list, felt… weird.

“does it feel weird?” you blurted, staring out the window.

yeonjun looked at you, startled. “what?”

“this. talking about it. like it’s a chore or something. when last night—” you trailed off, cheeks heating.

he nodded slowly. “it feels weird because it wasn’t just about the system. it was… about us.” his voice was quiet, unsure, but honest.

you twisted your fingers in your lap, the weight of his words settling between your thighs like the lingering ache from last night. you didn’t know how to act now—how to go from that kind of vulnerability to pretending you were just following instructions.

“i want to do it again,” you admitted, so softly it could’ve been mistaken for a breath. “but not because of the calendar. because… i liked how it felt. with you.”

his knuckles tightened on the wheel, his jaw clenching as he looked at you again. something in his eyes flickered—warm, molten, restrained. “good,” he said roughly. “because i haven’t stopped thinking about it since i woke up.”

your breath caught.

the red light ahead turned green, but neither of you were breathing normally anymore.

this wasn’t just about reproduction.

not anymore.

and neither of you knew how to navigate that yet—but the thought of exploring it again?

set your blood on fire.

you didn’t even make it past the front door.

as soon as it clicked shut behind you, he turned to you like something had snapped loose inside him—like the silence in the car, the weight of what had been said at the clinic, the image of you squirming in your seat all flushed and embarrassed, had pushed him past the edge. his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in with a force that made your breath stutter, his lips crashing into yours with none of the hesitation from the night before. it was need—pure, undiluted need—and you melted into it like you’d been waiting all day.

your back hit the wall, your fingers clawing at the hem of his shirt, dragging it up over his abs while he kissed you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. his hands found your thighs, lifted you slightly, pressing your hips together in a rhythm already too hungry for the softness of conversation.

you moaned into his mouth, and that was it—he growled low in his throat, carrying you the few messy steps to the living room, collapsing with you onto the couch in a tangle of limbs and breathless gasps. you straddled him instinctively, the dress you wore bunching at your hips, and the way you ground down against him made him curse under his breath, hands tightening on your waist.

"fuck, baby, you're driving me insane," he muttered, kissing down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, dragging the straps of your dress off your shoulders as his thumbs traced soft, dizzying circles into your skin.

"then do something about it," you whispered, breathless, rocking your hips again just to feel him buck up into you, so hard already it made your mouth go dry.

he didn't need more encouragement.

he kissed down your chest, taking his time, pulling down the top of your dress to reveal more skin, his mouth hot and greedy as he licked and sucked at your breasts, tongue flicking over your nipple until you were gasping his name. his fingers pushed the fabric higher, baring your panties and the damp patch growing darker by the second, and he groaned, burying his face between your thighs like he needed to taste you just to stay sane.

you cried out, your hands tangled in his hair, legs shaking as his tongue worked slow, devastating circles against your clit, sucking gently, teasing you with the edge of release only to pull away. “so wet for me already,” he whispered, voice thick, lips glistening. “you’ve been thinking about this since the car, haven’t you?”

you nodded, eyes fluttering shut, and he rewarded you by sucking harder, his fingers slipping inside to stretch you just right, his other hand holding your hips down while you rode the edge again and again until you whimpered, begging, thighs trembling.

“please, yeonjun… i need you, now.”

he didn’t make you ask twice.

he pulled you onto his lap again, kissing you deep, letting you taste yourself on his lips. and then he stood, shifting you onto the couch, turning your body gently, hands guiding your knees onto the cushions, your chest pressed to the armrest, your ass up for him—offered, exposed, throbbing.

"you’re so fucking perfect like this," he whispered, one hand sliding up your spine, the other gripping your hip as he positioned himself behind you, dragging the tip of his cock along your slit, teasing, wet and hot.

you whimpered, pushing back slightly, and when he slid in, inch by inch, you gasped—eyes rolling back, the stretch sharp and addictive all over again.

“fuck, you feel even tighter like this,” he groaned, sinking in all the way until your ass met his hips. “you’re gonna ruin me.”

he started to move slowly, the position letting him hit deeper, every thrust punching little moans from your lips. the slap of skin against skin echoed through the room, his hands gripping your waist, your thighs, your hair. and still, he kissed your spine, leaned over you, whispered filth against your neck.

“you like this, baby? you like being fucked like this?”

“yes—yes, fuck, yeonjun—it feels so good—”

he reached around, rubbed slow circles against your clit as he fucked into you deeper, faster, making you cry out into the pillow, your body arching under him, thighs shaking again.

"let me see your face," he panted, one hand turning your head slightly so he could kiss you, so he could see your expression—your flushed cheeks, your lips parted, eyes unfocused.

“you’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he growled. “you’re gonna make me come just looking at you.”

you felt it building again, heat coiling low in your belly, your body tightening, trembling, your moans turning desperate as he kept you right on the edge, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over.

“yeonjun—i’m gonna—”

“me too—fuck—i need to pull out—”

but you reached back, grabbing his hand, voice shaking. “don’t. please. come inside.”

he choked on a moan, hips stuttering, and then he was spilling into you with a groan so deep it made your toes curl, holding you tight as he filled you completely, shaking from the force of it. your own climax hit just seconds later, white-hot and blinding, and you collapsed onto the couch, boneless, his body draped over yours, both of you gasping for air.

his come dripped slowly down your thighs, warmth spreading between them, and he didn’t move—just pressed gentle kisses to your shoulder, your back, your spine, whispering your name like it was the only word he knew.

neither of you said anything for a long time.

but you both knew.

there was no going back.

the following days slipped into a blur of aching need and restless nights. you both tried to keep the doctor’s advice in mind, to space out your moments, to give your bodies time to recover, but desire doesn’t listen to calendars or rules. every morning, before you left for university, you found yourselves tangled together, breathless and desperate, fingers tracing familiar curves as if memorizing every inch again and again. afternoons after classes weren’t any different; the moment you closed the door behind you, yeonjun’s hands were already on your waist, pulling you close, his lips claiming yours with the same fierce hunger that never dulled.

the days were a patchwork of stolen touches and whispered promises, of quick, heated moments before rushing to your part-time jobs—him with the university’s cultural center, tutoring students in language and literature, and you at a small café nearby, pouring coffee and smiling through the haze of exhaustion and longing. you came home exhausted but your body still hummed with anticipation, the ache of missing him settling low and deep, urging you back into his arms. your skin grew sensitive, your senses sharper; even the smallest brush of fingers sparked a fire beneath your skin.

and every time he pulled you close, you let him come inside you—every time—forgetting the cautious rhythm the doctor had suggested, letting your bodies rewrite the rules in the heat of the moment. the cool logic of planning was swallowed whole by your hunger, your need to be closer, to feel him deeper, to lose yourselves entirely in the mess and sweetness of this forbidden, stolen intimacy.

sometimes you’d catch yourself wondering if the doctor would be surprised—or scandalized—to know how little control you really had, how much your hearts raced and how your bodies begged for more. but in those moments, all that mattered was yeonjun’s warm breath against your neck, the way his hands shaped you like a secret only he was meant to know, and the way your own voice trembled when you whispered his name.

it was messy, it was frantic, but it was yours. and for the first time since everything began, it felt like freedom.

you were wiping down the counter when one of your coworkers, a woman named hana, leaned over with a gentle smile. she was older than you, maybe 35, and had a quiet confidence about her that made people listen. she lowered her voice just a little, as if sharing a secret.

“you know, i was assigned a husband too. i thought it would be awful, honestly. i was scared. but it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. at first, i wasn’t sure if i could love him, or if he even cared. but slowly, i saw who he really was. and now, i’m so happy. we have two kids, and we’re thinking about a third. it’s scary, getting older, but i go to family planning a lot, trying to make sure it’s possible. the government even recognized me for wanting to keep repopulating. it’s strange, isn’t it? how these arrangements can lead to something real.”

you nodded, the thought settling deep inside your chest. could yeonjun and you be like that someday? sure, you cared for him. he was your husband, your partner in this harsh world. you pictured mornings waking up next to him, the soft light catching his face, the two of you building a life, maybe even raising children together. but love — real love? you had never felt it before, not like this. the feeling was foreign, like a story you’d read but never lived. still, yeonjun was everything to you, and that was enough for now.

later that day, when your shift ended, yeonjun was waiting by the door like always, leaning casually against his car. you slipped inside and immediately started talking about your day, the small victories, the tiring moments. he listened, eyes bright, then shared his own stories, laughter in his voice. the rhythm of your lives syncing quietly, comfortably.

and then, on a quiet street, just as the light ahead turned red, you suddenly blurted out, “do you love me?”

the car jerked slightly as yeonjun slammed on the brakes, both of you moving forward with the momentum. the question hung between you, heavy and unexpected.

he was silent for a moment, gaze fixed on the road ahead, and you could almost see the weight of the thought pressing on him. love was a strange word, loaded with promises and fears. but then his eyes met yours in the rearview mirror, steady and sure.

“i do,” he said slowly, voice low but certain. “maybe not like the stories you hear — wild and all-consuming — but i love you. from the moment i saw you, from that first kiss in the storm, from every day since. every laugh, every touch, every quiet moment. it’s real. and it will only grow.”

your heart fluttered in a way that was both new and familiar, and when the light turned green, he eased forward, hands gripping the wheel a little tighter.

back at the apartment, the world outside disappeared as yeonjun pulled you close. the night was gentle but full of fire, his hands exploring with a tenderness that spoke of trust and deep desire. lips brushed your skin with reverence, soft whispers mingling with quiet moans. you traced the curve of his neck, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. every touch was a promise, every kiss a new discovery.

he took his time, patient and caring, making sure you felt cherished, safe. the moments stretched between you, slow and delicious, as if the world had paused just for this — for the two of you, tangled in sheets and warmth, sharing something sacred.

and as you finally melted into him, the love he had spoken of filled the space between your bodies, unspoken but undeniable.

“congratulations,” the doctor said, her voice warm, glowing even, as if she had just handed you the entire sky. “you’re pregnant.”

the world stilled.

you blinked, lips parting, heartbeat stuttering in your chest. yeonjun, who had just stepped inside the room after waiting anxiously outside, froze beside you. his eyes darted from your stunned face to the doctor and back again, like he was trying to make sure he’d heard correctly.

“what?” you breathed, voice barely there.

the doctor smiled, gentle and knowing, like this was her favorite kind of moment to deliver. “you’re about six weeks along. everything looks good so far. the symptoms you’ve been experiencing — the nausea, the cravings, the mood swings — they all point to a healthy early pregnancy. we’ll begin prenatal care from today.”

you felt yeonjun’s fingers slip into yours, holding tight, like he needed to anchor himself. like you were both floating. he didn’t say anything right away — his throat worked around words he couldn’t seem to find — but his hand trembled slightly in yours.

the tears came slowly, not from fear or sadness, but from something else entirely. wonder. disbelief. awe.

a baby.

your baby.

with him.

“i…” you started, then shook your head with a small, breathless laugh. “i thought it was just stress. i didn’t want to hope.”

“and yet, here we are,” the doctor said kindly. “your next steps will be regular checkups, nutrition monitoring, and continued intimacy when you feel comfortable. you’re doing great already.”

you could hardly focus after that — her voice faded to a background hum as your eyes lifted to meet yeonjun’s. he was already looking at you, completely undone. his gaze was soft, watery, reverent. like you were something holy.

he squeezed your hand. “we’re going to be parents,” he whispered, like saying it out loud would make it real.

and it did.

you nodded, blinking away fresh tears. “we’re going to be a family.”

the drive home was quiet, but not empty. yeonjun kept stealing glances at you at every stoplight, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real — like he couldn’t believe the little life beginning inside you was real. his hand never left yours on the console between you, thumb tracing absent-minded circles over your knuckles.

when you stepped into the apartment, he didn’t let go. he guided you gently to the couch, like you might break if he wasn’t careful. and then he was kneeling in front of you, both hands now on your stomach, even though there was nothing visible yet — just warmth. just possibility.

“thank you,” he whispered. “for this. for you. for everything.”

you touched his hair, carding your fingers through the soft strands, heart swelling. “i didn’t do this alone, junnie.”

he leaned forward, lips brushing your still-flat belly, and then rested his forehead there, breathing slow and deep. “i’m gonna do everything i can to be good to you. to them. we didn’t choose this world, but i’ll choose you every day in it.”

you’d never felt more seen. more loved.

later that night, he held you closer than ever in bed, your back to his chest, one hand cradling your stomach, the other tangled with yours. the rain tapped gently against the window again, just like it had the night everything between you shifted.

and now it had shifted again.

you weren’t just husband and wife anymore.

you were parents.

you were a beginning.

and wrapped in his arms, with his heartbeat pressed against your spine, you let yourself dream — not of what the government wanted, not of duty or numbers, but of soft mornings and tiny fingers, of lullabies and laughter echoing through the walls.

of a future you hadn’t dared imagine.

but now, it was here.

growing inside you.

growing between you.

and it was love.

the apartment smelled of cake and laughter. pink balloons were tied to every chair, streamers hung slightly lopsided from the ceiling, and tiny frosting handprints decorated the corners of the tablecloth. your baby girl — chaeyeon — had turned one.

she was currently asleep in your arms, a little drool soaking into your blouse, her tiny chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. you'd never seen her smile so much in one day, or so determined to wobble around on her chubby legs while everyone clapped for her.

your parents had cried. yeonjun’s mother had brought enough food to feed an entire village. your brother had looked absolutely horrified when asked to hold chaeyeon and had instead stood frozen like she was made of glass. yeonjun’s older brothers had been more relaxed — juggling their own kids, swapping parenting tips with you and yeonjun, their wives giggling over how much yeonjun had softened in just a year.

it was a blur of love. of family. of a happiness you never expected from a life that had once felt forced upon you.

now it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

when the door closed behind the last guest, you let out a long breath and leaned against it. yeonjun was on his knees collecting bits of wrapping paper and cupcake crumbs, his sleeves rolled up and his hair a bit messy from carrying hana all afternoon.

“i think i have frosting in places i didn’t know were possible,” he muttered.

you giggled and padded over, gently placing a hand on his head. “she’s finally asleep. like… deep asleep. miracle of miracles.”

he looked up at you and smiled, slow and soft. “we survived our first birthday party.”

“barely.”

you both laughed, exhausted but giddy, and after tidying up the last of the chaos, you shuffled into your shared bedroom — the one that now held a rocking chair, a baby monitor, and the scent of lavender oil and baby lotion.

you sat on the bed, back against the headboard, and looked at yeonjun as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. his skin glowed faintly from the sweat of the day, and his eyes were crinkled with something tender when he looked at you.

“hard to believe we’ve made it here,” you murmured.

“i know.” he crawled onto the bed beside you, resting his head against your shoulder. “long time ago we were just trying to figure out how to be in the same room without losing our minds.”

“or jumping each other.”

he snorted, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “that too.”

you fell quiet for a moment, fingers brushing through his hair. “when they told me we were being assigned… i hated it. the system felt so cruel. mechanical. like love didn’t matter.”

“me too,” he admitted, voice low. “i kept wondering who you’d be. if you’d hate me. if i’d hate you.”

“and now… i can’t imagine waking up without you next to me.” you turned your face into his hair, breathing him in. “you’ve become everything.”

he lifted his head, eyes dark with something more than just love. “you gave me a family. you gave me her.”

“we gave her to each other,” you whispered, lips brushing his.

he kissed you then — slow, deep, familiar in a way that made your toes curl. and when he pulled back, eyes half-lidded, he murmured, “i need you.”

“then take me,” you breathed.

you barely finished speaking before he was on you, lips claiming yours again, more urgent this time, tongue teasing, his hands slipping beneath your shirt to cup your breasts. you gasped, arching into his touch as he rolled a thumb over your nipple.

“fuck, i love how sensitive you still are,” he muttered against your neck, biting softly before soothing the skin with kisses. “you get wet the second i touch you, don’t you?”

you nodded, already trembling as he dragged your panties down your thighs, fingers grazing your slick folds. “you make me like this… only you.”

he groaned, dipping two fingers inside you, curling them just right, his thumb circling your clit until your hips were grinding against his hand.

“look at you,” he said, voice rough, “needy little wife. always so eager for me. i could fuck you for hours and it still wouldn’t be enough, would it?”

“never enough,” you panted, nails digging into his shoulders. “please, junnie—”

he flipped you onto your stomach, lifting your hips until you were on all fours, head turned into the pillow. “you know what this does to me, seeing you like this,” he growled, running the head of his cock through your folds before slowly pushing in. “fuck, still so tight for me.”

you moaned, face burying into the pillow as he filled you to the hilt, rocking his hips with slow, brutal precision. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you back to meet each thrust, hitting that perfect spot that made your vision blur.

“tell me how good i make you feel,” he said through gritted teeth, fucking you deeper.

“so good—oh god, junnie—right there,” you whimpered. “you fuck me like you own me.”

“because i do,” he hissed. “you’re mine. every inch. every breath. and this pussy? fuck—this was made for me.”

your cries were muffled into the pillow, tears prickling at your eyes from the pleasure building impossibly fast. he bent over you, pressing kisses to your back, your shoulder, your neck, never stopping his rhythm.

“gonna come, baby?” he whispered in your ear. “cream on my cock like you always do?”

you nodded desperately, clenching around him, your orgasm ripping through you with a strangled moan.

he followed right after, cursing low and dark, emptying himself inside you with a final thrust. “fuck—gonna fill you up again. maybe give chaeyeon a little sibling.”

you both collapsed onto the bed, boneless and breathless, his arms wrapping tight around you from behind.

and in that moment, as the warmth of him settled over your back and your heartbeat steadied with his, you smiled.

because this was the life you never asked for — and yet, it was everything.

and now, there was no one else you’d rather be loved by.

[slytherinshua]

໑　 KISSES WITH TXT 　 ( 투모로우바이투게더 )

genre fluff , headcanons , txt x reader   cw kissing (obv) , not proofread and prob a bit messy   wc 806   request no   note still in my txt feels BAD like its not okay im so tired i love them   net @kstrucknet @moadiarynet

CHOI YEONJUN 彡 최연준

he’s so smooth with his kisses

almost too smooth

he’ll come up behind you with an arm around your waist and spin you around to press a quick kiss to your lips

and then he’ll leave you dazed and wanting more but he’s already walking off with a cute little smirk on his face

or he’ll interrupt your sentence with a kiss making you forget what you were talking about in the first place

he always catches you off guard but it leaves your heart fluttering 

other times his kisses are slow and passionate

he loves taking his time to savour the feeling

he’s almost too desperate sometimes, kissing you like it's the last time he’ll ever get the chance to

which is wrong because he kisses you all the time

but he just can’t help losing himself in you

kisses are used to celebrate, to commemorate, or to apologize 

it's his way of communicating, of teasing, of acknowledging— the way yeonjun kisses you speaks a million words

CHOI SOOBIN 彡 최수빈

there’s nothing softer than soobin’s kisses 

his lips are just so perfect that even when the kiss is rushed or a bit messy, you could hardly complain 

you love to kiss his neck because it will make him flustered and shy 

he’ll tell you to stop with his cheeks flushed, but he doesn’t really mean it 

when he talks too much and you can’t get a word in, kissing his cheek always gets his attention 

his brain pauses whenever you do cause he doesn’t expect to be kissed 

even though he should by now because you can never resist kissing his dimples 

if you can’t reach his lips, there are simple ways to get him to bend down enough 

a tap on his shoulder or gently grabbing his wrist will give him the silent signal that you want to kiss him 

and it has him smiling because he thinks you’re adorable every time you want him to lean down so you can initiate the kiss first 

CHOI BEOMGYU 彡 최범규

beomgyu always kisses you when you need it the most

his kisses are soothing and loving, healing whatever part of you that was hurting instantly

kisses away your tears when you’re crying and delicately presses his lips to any part of your body that was aching 

when the mood is light and playful, you like to tease him by not giving him any kisses while he begs for it

when he’s playing video games next to you, he’ll pucker his lips expectantly while his eyes stay glued to the screen

you act like you have no idea what he wants 

it drives him slightly crazy, but he also loves it

because it means once he’s finally had enough of not getting what he wants, he’ll tackle you and kiss you until you’re both breathless and your jaws hurt from smiling so much 

when you brush his hair back and give him forehead kisses, he practically melts into a puddle 

he adores your delicate soft kisses more than anything 

as a slow and patient lover, he cherishes the quiet moments with you the most

KANG TAEHYUN 彡 강태현

taehyun won’t ask for kisses out loud, but there’s always a pleading look in his eyes whenever he wants to be kissed

eyes shiny and observing you to see when you’ll notice that he’s desperate to get his lips on yours 

if he gets too impatient he will definitely tug on your arm or something to get your attention 

loves when you hold his face in your hands and run your thumb across his cheekbone or jawline 

he’ll turn his head to press a kiss to your palm and his smiles are breathtaking 

his kisses are so romantic with the perfect push and pull 

he always knows where to put his hands or how to guide you perfectly 

and when the time comes to break away from his lips, your heart always sinks a bit in your chest

because he has you addicted like nothing else 

HUENINGKAI 彡 휴닝카이

his kisses are soft and sometimes teasing 

hand kisses are some of his personal favourites

he’ll get down on one knee or bend down to kiss the back of your hand in the most chivalrous way possible just to see you giggle 

will also kiss your knuckles one by one while holding your hand in his

he loves when you run your hands through his hair while kissing him 

he’s addicted to the feeling and needs it like oxygen 

he’ll sigh in content and pull you closer because nothing could ever be more perfect than your lips on his and your hands in his hair

he loves to nuzzle his nose against yours too!

he’ll leave a trail of kisses across your face whilst breathless giggles escape his parted lips 

and delicate pecks to the apples of your cheeks or under your eyes are what follows

txt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @90steele,, @ddeonudepressions,, @cham3li,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,, @amara-mars,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @sxmmerberries,, @talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @stannwjnss,, @gong-fourz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny,, @stantxtforabetterlife,, @loserlvrss,, @lexeees,, @cupidslovearrows,, @hyukabean,, @nicholasluvbot,, @i03jae

[pinkponytrash]

⋅˚₊‧ secretly dating TXT ‧₊˚ ⋅

3.2k words. headcannon. boyfriend!txt x fem!reader, nondescriptive smut scenes. light jealousy. friends to lovers. mentions of phone sex, mutual masturbation, oral sex, riding

ᯓ★ YEONJUN

He’s real cheeky about it, always has a little smirk on his face when you step into the room and he’s so sure no one knows what’s going on but he’s also so obvious about it. Even if they don’t think you’re dating, they definitely think there’s feelings there.

Yeonjun is always the type to try and impress you too, has to show off how good he is at things and makes sure you’re watching when he does.

Anytime you go out with them, he’s going to make sure you’re by him or if you split off into groups he’s going to be with you. Every now and then he tries to hold your hand and has to remind himself to chill out until he sees Beomgyu or someone take your attention then suddenly he’s snatching you away with some excuse.

“We’re gonna go get drinks,” Yeonjun says as he practically drags you away from Kai who had been trying to take a selfie with you, “Who wants something?”

“I’ll come wi—“

“We don’t need everyone, the line’s already long,” he argues, making sure to pull you behind him, “We’ll be quick.”

“Could you make it any more obvious?” You ask him once the two of you are far enough from the others. He smirked, interlacing your fingers together, “I can if you want me too.”

If it isn’t obvious yet, Yeonjun is not good at keeping it a secret. He is confident in his ability to keep it on the low until he gets in too good of a mood, then all he wants to do is put his hands on you.

Especially when you go out for drinks and you’re wearing one of his favorite outfits dancing to some song you like and swaying your hips with just the right amount of rhythm that he feels hypnotized.

Usually, he’ll have to distract himself talking with the others but after one too many drinks, he’ll make his way toward you and push away whoever you’re dancing with so you can focus on him and him alone, hands playfully tracing the curve of your hips, sliding under the hem of your shirt and smirking when you push his hand away.

By the time you call it a night, it’s hard to keep your boyfriend off you and you end up barely making it past the door of your apartment when he’s already pushing you up against the wall with his mouth on yours.

He likes taking his time with you, he swears, but something he gets a little too eager. It’s difficult ‘keeping it a secret’ and sometimes all he wants to do is get down on his knees and show you how much he appreciates you.

He has one of your legs thrown over his shoulders, teasing your inner thighs with soft bites that make your breath hitch.

“Don’t be a tease,” you tried to sound playful but it was hard when you felt breathless from the way he pinched your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you needed him the most.

“Oh, like how you weren’t being a tease in front of everyone?” He asked, kissing your clit softly, earning a light moan to fall from your lips.

“Not on purpose,” you sighed, head back against the wall as you closed your eyes to soak in the feeling of his tongue between your wet folds. Yeonjun knew exactly what to do with your body. Maybe it’s because you started off as friends, learned everything it was about each other that when it came to getting intimate, it didn’t take long for him to know what to do to make you moan his name.

And he loved the sound of your voice when you moaned for him so lovingly. His tongue does wonders between your legs and when paired with his long fingers, you can’t help but let yourself fall for him harder every time.

ᯓ★ SOOBIN

Nervous boyf to the core. We know he likes to joke around with TXT and technically speaking you are their friend but when you start dating Soobin…

Oh it’s like a schoolboy crush he’s got to hide. He used to be just as playful with you as before but now he’s scared to get too close because what if he kisses you? Oh my goodness, how would he hold himself back if he gets too close?

Sometimes when you’re around everyone he’ll sit down next to you and spread his legs a little further so that nobody else can squeeze in between you and he’ll make sure that his leg touches yours. If he’s feeling extra bold he might put his hand on your thigh, squeeze it a little and try to cover up his teasing by doing the same to Taehyun or Kai under pretense of joking around.

But let’s not forget about jealous boyfriend Soobin.

“No, Y/n, this is a serious question,” Yeonjun reached for your hand and gave it a tight squeeze, “Who do you think is hotter? Me or Soobin.”

You made the mistake of jokingly saying, ‘You’ thinking Soobin would obviously know you’re only saying it to make Yeonjun feel better but boy were you wrong.

He was upset, visibly upset to the point that when you looked over at him, he would give you a side eye and look away. Everyone noticed it too and found it damn near comical that he was so bothered by it but of course they didn’t know why. He didn’t even talk to you about it till later that night.

“I was joking, Binnie,” you clung to him from behind, “Of course I think you’re so much better looking than anyone but if I said you, everyone would think somethings up. They already think I favorite yo—“

“As you should! I’m your boyfriend, you should favorite me,” He would argue with a cute pout.

He's never an angry type of jealous, usually he gets pouty and thinks about it for days which in turn leaves you wanting to prove to him how much you prefer him over anyone else.

“Jagi,” Soobin had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep his voice down but it was getting hard—well, he was, “Everyone is w-waiting for us.”

“So?” You asked, kissing down his chest as you pushed his shirt up and without being told to, he held it up with the hem between his teeth. He even lifted his hips to help you pull his jeans down, “I’ve missed you.”

Your hand teased his growing bulge, palming his erection over his briefs as you got more comfortable in the backseat of his car. The parking garage was dark and almost empty but he still looked out the windows nervously.

You were supposed to be meeting your friends for a game night and he had told them all he was going to pick you up since you were ‘on the way’ to the dorms, but in reality he needed a little more time with you alone. He just didn’t think that meant you’d ask him to meet you in the backseat so you could show him how much you missed him with your lips around his cock.

And what was he supposed to do when they texted him asking where you were? Was he supposed to tell them that he was moaning your name while hiding down in the parking garage? His hands in your hair, head thrown back with pleasure and abs tightening every time he took a deep breath.

“So good,” he sighed blissfully, eyes threatening to fall shut when your tongue traced the vein that traveled down his length, “Don’t wanna go see them anymore.”

“We have to,” you released him from your mouth, stroking him teasingly, “Or else they’ll get suspicious.”

And by the time you made it upstairs, Soobin couldn’t bother to care about the complaints from everyone about your tardiness. Not when it was taking everything in him not to just pull you into his lap and kiss you for everyone to see.

ᯓ★ BEOMGYU

He’s probably the only member who’s actually good at hiding the fact that he’s dating you.

He jokes with you the same way he jokes with everyone else so no one would ever know that when he touches you under the table, he likes to tease too.

They don’t know that when he says he’s going to play an arcade and sneaks away from the dorm, he’s actually going over to your place when no one���s around and hanging out with you.

In all honesty, he’s probably the best ‘friends to lovers’ of them all. You’re his best friend and have been for a while so when the two of you started dating, it just became like an added perk.

Not only does he get to game with you and crack jokes but now he gets to kiss you and make you feel good too.

It’s great, seriously, and the only downside to it is how serious he comes off to you. Sometimes you struggle to remember he's more than just a friend and sometimes he forgets to remember he doesn’t like it when the others get too close to you.

It’s only okay when he gets close to you, not Soobin, Beomgyu, Taehyun or even Kai. He’s made it clear he’s your ‘best friend’ so yes, he does feel like he has a right to get jealous sometimes.

“What does it matter, Gyu? You got up so I took your seat,” Kai laughed, making himself comfortable next to you on the couch, “The movies about to start just sit next to Jun.”

“But I was sitting there first,” Beomgyu practically stomped his foot in a tantrum, “I went to make Y/n and I popcorn, how are we supposed to share if you took my seat?”

Meaning: how am I supposed to cuddle with Y/n under the blanket if you’re in the way?

“Kai, don’t be mean, he was sitting there first,” you laughed, glancing over at Beomgyu who was pouting now, “Maybe you guys should ‘Paper, Rock, Scissors’ this and the winner gets to sit next to me.”

You gave them both a cheeky smile which made Kai roll his eyes and cringe, “Ew, I don’t want to sit next to you anymore.”

“Then move,” Beomgyu said, already forcing himself down next to you and pushing Kai out the way.

Even when the two of you are all alone and you get too touchy, it’s always playful. There’s always giggles here and there and jokes that make you both stop and laugh.

And after a while he gets lazy with his excuses. He stays out later and when he doesn’t make it home some nights, everyone knows by this time that he’s probably just hanging out with you.

“I’m going to the arcade.”

“With Y/n?”

“No, by myself.”

“Right, I thought you’d be with your best friend tonight.”

It’s only when neither of you answer the phone that the rumors start circulating.

“Oh my god, just ignore it,” Beomgyu groaned as your phone rang for the third time. Soobin and Kai were blowing up your phone after you promised to play them online tonight. Meanwhile you’re naked in bed with your boyfriend who just looks so pretty under you.

He even knew you were supposed to be gaming and that’s why he came over to keep your attention from drifting to anyone but him.

“So greedy, all the time,” you moaned softly, raising your hips against his member and sinking back down to feel the way he stretched your walls for you, “Always want my attention. I thought you wanted to keep it a secret.”

“I do,” he nearly whimpered, fingers digging into your thighs with pleasure, “But it’s hard.”

ᯓ★ TAEHYUN

He’s even worse at hiding it than Yeonjun. He’s just too clingy and he can’t really hide that even around the other members. He’s already touchy with the others but when it comes to his girlfriend? Boy, oh boy.

He likes to touch your thigh under the table or trace your spine whenever you stand in front of him and no one’s looking. When you run your fingers through his hair while watching a movie, he tends to get a little lost in the feeling and starts to doze off with his head practically on your lap.

The others ignore it for the most part but every now and then Kai will try to make a comment about his touchiness toward you and suddenly Taehyun has to act out.

One time the two of you almost got caught getting a little too close while at the bar and he literally pushed you off him before Yeonjun could see you try and kiss him. He ended up paying for that in the end.

“Jagi, just one kiss,” Taehyun begged later that night when you rejected his second attempt since you got back to your place. You weren’t actually mad at him but he liked messing with you so what was wrong with it’s you doing it back?

“Well I tried to give you a kiss earlier and you pushed me away, remember?” You asked, hiding your smirk and turning your back to him. Taehyun didn’t like that at all, and practically pounced on your bed to hold you.

“But I want it now.”

Hes a jealous guy too, a quiet, introverted jealous guy. He won’t say anything but there’ll be signs. He’ll keep his eyes on you and whoever you’re with and have no shame about it.

One time you asked Soobin to help you reach something instead of Taehyun and he couldn’t hide how annoyed he was by it. He even went as far as mocking you for it later that night.

Whenever you’re more distracted by your phone than him, he’s always gotta try and get your attention back on him.

Usually, if you’re alone, it’s with little touches here and there.

He likes playfully pulling at your shirt to bring you closer to him, smile on his face when you whine at being exposed.

You’ll try and escape his affection but you always end up giving in and you end up making out on your couch when you’re finally alone.

He’s handsy too, he loves the way you feel under his fingertips especially when your skirts rolled up and he’s gotten your panties off.

“So soft,” he always reminds you when he traces a finger along your clit, massaging into it with some of your slick. He’s always gentle when he touches you, always kisses down your sides and aims to please you first.

“Mhm,” you moan lightly, hand brushing his soft hair back so you could see his big boba eyes look up at you while he kisses your navel. They distract you from his hand until you feel his middle finger tease your entrance.

“It’s so hard to keep my hands off you,” he always makes sure to remind you when he’s making you feel good with those hands. He’s never shy when it comes to touching you either, always knows just when to curl his fingers or rub your clit while he does it. When he can tell you’re close, he likes to kiss you, swallow your moans and feel your tighten around his fingers.

ᯓ★ KAI

He thought it would be easy at first but he quickly realized how wrong he was.

In the beginning, he did his best to treat you like a friend and nothing else. He would talk to you like he talks to the other members and he wouldn’t make a scene whenever you talked too long to someone else.

He would only get nervous when you would look at him for too long, or wink at him, talk about how he’s your favorite or sit close to him.

And you loved to get him riled up when no one’s looking.

You’re the one to usually initiate something, like when you casually trace your fingers through his hair.

How is he supposed to act unbothered by it?

When you’re out with them all and someone tries hitting on you, and you have to quietly explain that you’re kind of seeing someone which leads the others to ask who, how is Kai not supposed to shout out that it’s him?

How’s he supposed to just join in with the interrogation and act like he doesn’t know anything either?

“Wait, have we met him?” Yeonjun asks you and none of them seem to notice how you look over at Kai and smile so innocently while he’s sweating billets.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” you always say, half laughing at how annoyed they all look and Kai has to pretend to be just as annoyed when in reality he wants to smile too.

“I don’t think we’ll ever know,” he’ll try and pipe in, trying not to smirk and when they’re not looking at him, he winks at you and enjoys the little secret you share.

To be honest, you’re the one who fell for him first.

For some reason his cringey jokes and over the top laugh really pulled you in and when you made the move on him, he hadn’t known what to think.

For the longest he thought of you as a friend so the night you were on video call playing a game together and you were laying on your bed, barely covered by the blanket… he kept getting distracted.

Then you would say something flirty while shifting around and showing the little shorts you wore to sleep and how they barely covered anything, along with your tank top. He would remind himself that you’re just a friend and he’s probably reading too into it

So everything was on the low to begin with. None of the others knew how the two of you would spend almost every night on the phone together and Kai could tell them but why would he? So that they could think they could call you too and take your attention away?

Plus, did he really want them to know about how you looked fresh out the shower on the phone with him? Or how you sounded when you whispered softly with your hand down your panties asking if he’s touching himself too?

And it was known Kai had such a nice voice that you couldn’t help but encourage him to let you hear it when he stroked his stiff member in his bedroom late at night.

“I can’t hear you,” you would remind him, hand touching down your body and showing the camera what he can’t see in person.

“They’re going to hear me,” he whispers, letting out a small moan when you pull down your top and tease him with a view of your bare chest.

“Everyone’s asleep,” you say, “Please? It’s not fair, I don’t ever get to see you alone.”

Your words always got to him, and he would stroke himself just a little faster and whisper, “I want to see you too.”

::.

I’ve been gone for months and I needed something kind of quick and easy to write so hope you guys liked it 😭should I do more of these?

[hyabbstay]

just a little bit - c.s.b. & c.y.j.

yeonjun x afab!reader x soobin

genre: smut (minors DO NOT INTERACT!)

content warning: porn without plot, threesome, afab!reader, jun and soob take turns, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (WRAP it before u tap it pLS) oral sex (m & f receiving), masturbation (m), voyeurism, lots of bodily fluids, sloppy seconds, pussy slapping, recording, choi soobin has a big dick, slight objectification, soobin calls reader a slut while yeonjun calls reader sweetheart LOL, lmao yeonjun is more romantic than soob here he might be a little in love, pussydrunk!soob, yeonbin bickering, sexual tension if you squint, probably forgot some just let me know, NOT PROOFREAD it's like 5am here and im tired

wc: 3.1k

song rec: just a little bit by kids of 88 (hello teen wolf fans!)

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

"That's it, take Yeonjun's cock like a good slut."

"F-fuck," the older man threw his head back at the way you clenched around his girthy cock, hot, slick, and greedy. He rolled his hips into yours, making you cry out through your panties stuffed in your mouth to muffle your moans. "Seriously, we can't just be friends anymore after this - ah - I'll lose my shit thinking about your pussy all day."

From his seat by the dresser, Soobin tightened his grip on his stiff cock, already leaking precum. He watched Yeonjun's cock slam in and out of your pussy. The older man liked to pull out completely, drag his length along your clit until you whined helplessly, then ram it back in, punching a cry out of you. Soobin licked his lips and listened to the symphony of his best friends' sweat slicked skin smacking against each other, the squelches each time Yeonjun's cock pummeled your wet hole, your muffled whining, and Yeonjun's pornographic moans.

Soobin found it delicious to watch, but he couldn't deny he wanted to ruin you just as badly as Yeonjun did, too. Raw you like an animal in heat, abuse your wet pussy and fill it deep, dripping with a mix of his and Yeonjun's hot semen.

You ripped the panties from your mouth and began gasping loudly. Yeonjun could feel your hot cavern pulsate around his length, locking him in a vice-like grip. His hips began to stutter, erratic in his movement. Soobin leaned forward just slightly. He knew what was coming and decided to edge himself a little bit, letting go of his dripping cock. As he slowly licked the slick off of his palm, Soobin suppressed his eyes from rolling back, watching the scandalous scene unfold in front of him.

Yeonjun’s mouth hung open in ecstasy, eyes shut tight, reveling in the sensation of your pussy clenching around him.

“So,” pant, “fucking,” pant, “good.” Your best friend punctuated each word with a powerful thrust, allowing streak after thick streak of cum to coat your walls. You could’ve sworn the intensity of your orgasm drove you insane. Warm and sticky fluid flooded your hole, covering his cock and meeting his release. Your legs and thighs buzzed with pleasure, and your hole felt so raw. The sensation in your womb was both sensual and dirty. So filthy.

“What a filthy slut,” Soobin groaned, sucking in air through clenched teeth. “You like being pounded by your best friend’s cock?”

Lost in pleasure while Yeonjun fucks the remainder of his semen into you, you manage to let out a weak “Yeah.”

The man behind you slows his thrusts and eventually slips out of you. Soobin looks up at him, and they exchange sly looks. Soobin stands up, shucking off the rest of his clothes, leaving his cock proudly on display. You were in huge trouble.

“Wanna make it two of your best friends’ cocks? Gonna let me fill you up with my cum, too?” Soobin leaned in close, eyes dark, and spanked your ass. You screamed in surprise, feeling Yeonjun’s cum drip out of you and onto the sheets.

“Answer me, slut.”

“Y-yes,” you groaned, glassy eyes begging him to cream inside you, “I w-want all your cum in m-my pussy, Bin-ah.”

Yeonjun was spent. He moved to the chair and reached for his phone. You had an inkling of what was going to happen next.

“Jun-ah,” Soobin called while manhandling you onto your back, not caring about the cum that poured out of your hole, “get back here and take a video of your mess first.”

Yeonjun hummed and sauntered over, phone in hand with the flash on. Both men pushed your thighs apart, leaving your dripping snatch exposed. “So wet and full of my cum,” the older man watched the screen closely as three of Soobin’s fingers invaded your hole, fucking the slick back inside. He slapped your pussy, earning a moan from you. Smrking, he did it again, watching the strings of your arousal stretch out as he pulled his hand away. You whined out his name, embarrassed by the wet sounds coming from your folds.

“Bin, I ate her out earlier before you walked in,” Yeonjun smirked. “She’s so fucking tasty, exactly like we imagined.”

Shit, how long have these two been planning to get in your pants? Since you started coming over to their apartment? Since you accidentally flashed them at the pool? That one spin the bottle game where you had to make out with Yeonjun?

Or that incident at the movie theater where you caught Soobin touching himself through his pants during a sex scene? You moaned, remembering that smirk he gave you back then and the way he continued palming his cock.

If you’d gotten the hint back then, you could’ve been cumming on their cocks much sooner.

“‘M gonna eat this pussy out first, dyin’ to taste you.” Soobin hasn’t gotten started yet, but his words slightly slurred together, as if he was already pussydrunk by the thought of drowning in your arousal. He flattened his tongue and licked a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. He hummed as he savored your slick fluids coating his tongue, while you cried out like a bitch in heat. Fuck their neighbors; you were getting the best head of your life tonight.

“Still dripping so much after being used as Junnie’s cumdump?” Soobin tutted, “You’re insatiable.”

His head disappeared between your legs as he began sucking on your hole, as if trying to drink up the filthy mixture of yours and Yeonjun’s cum. You screamed when he stuck his tongue inside and forced the wet muscle to explore your pussy. Yeonjun had to switch hands to hold the camera steady and place the other hand on your abdomen to keep you from thrashing around in pleasure. His best friend was too pussy-drunk to mind you pulling his hair, thirsty for more of his tongue action.

“Y/N’s so greedy,” Yeonjun remarked. “Soobin, wanna teach her a lesson?”

The younger man only responded by withdrawing his tongue and laving it over your clit before sucking wetly.

He scooped up the dripping mix of arousal from your hole and pulled out his soaked digits to hold them up for his friend, all the while keeping his hot tongue on you. Yeonjun hungrily wrapped his plump lips around Soobin’s fingers, suckling on them lightly to get a taste of yours and his own cum. Admittedly, you would’ve enjoyed the erotic scene of the two men if it weren't for Soobin’s relentless attack on your folds. Each stripe that he pressed onto your sensitive snatch brought you closer to the edge. 

Yeonjun let go of the other’s fingers with a lewd pop and resumed filming the same fingers plunging inside you again.

The older man watched in amusement, eyes drifting to see your fucked out expression, body covered in sweat from fucking him earlier. You met his piercing gaze. He slowly moved the phone towards you, recording your sorry state for them to beat their cocks to later. Much to your surprise, he delicately brushed a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead. The loving gesture reminded you for a split second that you were close friends.

Close friends that somehow ended up this way.

The sweet gesture was quickly swept away by the sight of Yeonjun licking his lips. He watched you with blown pupils and spoke.

“Who’s making you feel this good, baby? Hm?” He asked in a low voice, tongue grazing the shell of your ear.

“Y-you!" you moaned, hips grinding into Soobin’s face. His moan sent vibrations through your pussy. “You and S-Soobin-ah! So good I’m gonna cum!”

“Then cum.” 

At that, Soobin, who had been carefully tracing little circles on your bundle of nerves, latched his lips onto your clit and resumed his frenzied sucking while pounding his fingers into your slick. He shook his head from side to side, the movement intensifying the rough drag of his tongue on you. The salacious squelching, lewd moans, and smell of sex permeated the air again. You screamed brokenly while creaming all over his mouth. Yeonjun held the camera right above the both of you, capturing the sexual act in all its glory.

You tried to make eye contact with the camera, but Soobin’s persistent licking at your spent folds kept your eyes rolling back so much you thought they would get stuck that way.

You came down from your high, and Soobin polished off his meal, greedily sucking every last drop from your hole and his own fingers. Fuck, your best friends could keep your legs twitching for days on end. You wouldn’t mind that one bit.

Damn, you need both of them in you.

Soobin was a mess. His bangs stuck to his forehead from the sweat and juices on his face, but his gaze was eager, showing no signs of fatigue from your earlier activities.

“Time for my cock, babe. Take it like the slut you are, alright? I’ll make it fit.” He gripped his length and pumped it, lining it up with your hole before entering you.

The stretch was incredible. Without a doubt, he was thicker than Yeonjun. It was as if you felt every ridge, every vein that bulged from his dick as he sank further and further into you. When he bottomed out, Soobin could hardly hold himself back from pulling back and slamming in.

Embarrassingly, you heard the squelch of your juices as Soobin adjusted his position while you got accustomed to the size of his cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned “Gonna fuck you stupid on my cock, slut.”

And he began pummeling into you a lot more forcefully than Yeonjun did. His technique was desperate, messy, and a little insane. You had half a mind to be a little scared that he might break you.

“Fuck! S’big and so good, Soobin!”

Still sensitive, you moaned out his name. He satisfied his oral fixation by sealing his lips over your tit, moaning into your burning flesh. His thrusts were fast and harsh, barely giving you time to breathe, so you had no choice but to bask in the sensation of Soobin’s dick abusing your pussy.

The wet sounds of your skin meeting were also affecting Yeonjun, who began groaning like a pornstar again. His other hand traveled to his now fully hard cock and began stroking again, his eyes flickering between the scene recorded on the screen and reality. The older man fixed his gaze on the sight of you and Soobin’s hips meeting. He watched it all—the way his cock disappeared into your cunt, the wetness that accumulated around his friends’ lower halves as you both kept meeting each other's thrusts.

The way Soobin speared you on his cock like a toy, he treated you like his personal cumdump. He released your tits from his mouth and joined Yeonjun in watching his dick plunging into your heat, each time emerging a lot wetter than the last.

In between pants, Soobin said something that made you clench harder around his pulsating length, “Yeonjunnie, fuck her mouth. Make her take both of us at once.”

At least Yeonjun had the decency to ask you, “Would you like that, baby? Want me to cum down your throat, too?”

Halfway through a moan, you nodded furiously. It took too much energy to form coherent words, but you tried for him.

“P-please,” you choked out, “Wan’ it in my m-mouth.”

“Good girl,” Yeonjun praised, positioning your head so you hung slightly from the edge of the bed. You watched with lidded eyes as he collected his arousal from the tip with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone and stroked himself with it. He tapped his veiny cock against your waiting lips. “Gonna pump my cum down your throat now, beautiful.”

Eagerly, you wrapped your lips around the older man’s tip, giving it a little suck before allowing him to thrust the rest of his length down your hot mouth. Both the taste of your cum and his from earlier still lingered on his skin, and you moaned around him as you realized this. You took into your hands what your mouth couldn’t take, twisting them while relaxing your muscles to take him deeper. 

Yeonjun barely captured your sinful position on camera before he dropped his phone, sending it clattering to the floor.

They should really set up a tripod next time.

Next time.

He quickly became erratic in his movements. He couldn’t believe his wettest, wildest dreams came true tonight. He threw his head back in ecstasy while you swallowed him whole, sweat running down his chest and the sides of his face.

Fuck, fuck, and what if he looked at his best friend right now-

Soobin, still pummeling relentlessly into your battered cunt, stared right back at him. They held eye contact while thrusting into both your holes, chests heaving from the pleasure that drowned their hot bodies and addled their lust-ridden minds. For them, nothing else existed in this moment except for the sound of their skin repeatedly coming in contact with your holes, the squelch of juices and spit, the scent of sex, the buzz that lit their lower halves on fire, and the humid air that sent perspiration dripping down their bodies to your equally spent one.

“Think you can last longer than me, Jun-ah?” The younger challenged, pulling out almost completely then slamming back into you forcefully. You whined around Yeonjun’s cock.

“Huh,” the older huffed, “I’ll even let her ride me after this, then I’ll fuck her in front of that mirror Y/N and I bought together over there.”

Soobin spared the dirty floor-length mirror a glance, “Yeah? You’re nasty. I could guess how many times your conceited ass came all over that thing.”

Yeonjun’s hand found its way to your throat, groaning when he saw the slight outline of his cock. “You’re nastier, Bin-ah. You hide Y/N’s sweaters whenever she comes over and cum all over them at night, dirty perv.”

Again, you let out another moan and desperately humped against Soobin’s hips, trying to get his dick deeper into you. All the dirty confessions they’re making in front of you made you gush out more juices. Soobin clicked his tongue and suddenly pulled out of you, taking a moment to appreciate the sticky strings of arousal that connected his member to your cunt. You whined at the loss of contact and Yeonjun was quick to thrust that down your throat again.

Meanwhile, Soobin pushed your knees up to your chest and aligned his cock with your entrance.

“Little slut wants more?” He sneered, “I’ll give you more, then. We’ve got all night.”

He sheathed his cock in the deepest he could go, invading your folds once more and pushing your juices in. Soobin let out the hottest, most desperate moan he’s made so far and began panting again. His hips moved at a rapid pace, causing clear-white fluid to form around where the base of his cock and your pussy met. You could feel the wetness spread further on your thighs and pour onto Yeonjun’s sheets.

The older man watched this development greedily, pulling out of you momentarily to give you room to rest and moan loudly as Soobin abused your leaking hole. Seeking leverage, you felt around until your hand found Yeonjun’s thigh. He grabbed your tits, pinching your nipples and rolling them in his fingers, causing them to harden. You sobbed, grasping at his thigh tighter.

“Yeonjunnie,” you gasped, “c-cock…”

He quickly complied, pushing his hips back into your mouth to receive the pleasure your tongue and cheeks gave him. 

You moaned around Yeonjun’s cock, but you could hear the latter scoff at the statement.

Soobin delivered a harsh slap to your ass, making you impossibly tighter, your juices and tightness simultaneously sucking him in and pushing him out.

“Fuck, baby, your cunt’s so greedy ‘n hot.” He groaned, “Gonna stuff this pussy day and night so it’ll never be empty, you like that?”

It’s always a competition between these two, you thought.

“I’m close, sweetheart,” Yeonjun panted, pushing back his sweaty hair to bask in the feeling of you swallowing his dick. “Take it like the good girl you are, hm? Give me another thing to think about every night.”

Soobin’s mouth hung open in pleasure, but he still had the energy to roll his eyes at the older man. He began to indulge you in more dirty talk.

“What a complete slut. Already came around Junnie and me several times but can still give us more, hm? Gonna fucking pound this pussy until all you can cum around is our cocks, right?”

He laid his palm on your abdomen and used his thumb to draw figures on your clit. You keened.

Coupled with his erratic thrusts, thumb motions, and Yeonjun’s fingers on your pebbled nipples, you were suddenly flooded with a white-hot pleasure. Your body thrashed around to no avail as your two best friends held you in place. 

The three of you were a sight to behold. Yeonjun’s cock twitched in your mouth, and he released thick spurts of cum in you as you moaned around him, letting him coat your tongue with his essence. You did your best to swallow, although you began to choke from the pleasure Soobin was giving you below.

The younger man ruthlessly snapped his hips into your wetness, ropes of cum shooting into your hole and kissing your cervix for the second time that night, filling you up with his hot semen. His moans came from deep within his chest, and you found that incredibly hot. You couldn’t see his face but imagined his blissed-out expression from emptying his balls in you.

In the middle if it all, your cunt met Soobin’s cum with your own, clenching uncontrollably while struggling to take in the semen Yeonjun spilled in your mouth. Each spurt into both your holes brought you closer to blacking out from the sheer pleasure.

The three of you relished in the sounds and sensations of your orgasms, the room a mess of moans and cries and squelches. Once they pulled out, your exhausted bodies went slack. Both men fell to either side of you on the bed, heaving deep breaths. Still abuzz with the effects of your orgasm, you became aware of yours and Soobin’s cum seeping out of your abused pussy. You could still feel the warm cum smeared on your chin, courtesy of Yeonjun.

On your left, the culprit quietly laughed and reached over to stroke your hair, “That was intense, baby. You okay?” he whispered, “Soobin did a number on you.”

You grinned weakly, “Says the one who first pulled me in here to eat me out.”

“Hey,” Soobin suddenly said, “We should do this again.”

“How soon?” Yeonjun smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You felt Soobin’s hand on your thigh, getting closer to your still-sensitive core.

There’s your answer.

[viasdreams]

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

soobin as your loser bff !! (he want you so bad)

a/n: does this make me a loser since i just made him like all the things i like??? 😞 also bunny girl senpai being his fav anime will never not make me laugh

fake text m.list ☁︎⋅

[lovesickchoi]

📁 FILE 02: CHOI YEONJUN

⋆·˚ ༘ * Casual hookups transcend into more when Yeonjun can’t keep his feelings at bay anymore. With praise on his tongue and dirty words a testament of his devotion to you, he’s determined to show you what he’s been holding back.

✦ Love Language: Words of Affirmation

pairing: yeonjun x reader ✮⋆˙✐ 2.4k

warnings: smut, f!reader, fwb to lovers, dirty talk, praise, reassurance, a lot of dialogue, dry humping, no protection

🗂️ click here to access all txt member’s files

˚₊ · »-♡→ main masterlist

Choi Yeonjun could coax an orgasm out of you like no other.

Powerful, blinding, earth-shattering climaxes that left your sensitive body trembling and your mind floating, all while the silver chain around his neck swung low and draped over your skin, marking you as his.

The bite of his bottom lip between his teeth and the scrunch of his forehead, taut with lust. The kiss of his lips to your cheek as your eyes flutter open, drawing light and reality back in. And finally, the slow drag of his hips as he exits your body.

Then he stands up from the bed and puts his clothes back on, already facing the door.

"So I'll text you tomorrow?" Always Yeonjun's last words, barely giving you time to come back to yourself before he's out of your bedroom.

This was the unfortunate nature of your friendship with Yeonjun. Or whatever a sane person might call the predicament you'd found yourselves in. A situationship. A fuckship. A please-don’t-let-me-be-the-only-one-feeling-like-this-ship.

The next day drags on like usual, but this time, you find yourself dreading it—dreading the moment you’ll have to feign a smile for Yeonjun again. He’s already waiting for you at the end of the street like always, ready to walk into your friend’s apartment by your side with another late night ahead.

His arm is naturally slung over your shoulder, keeping you to him, as you greet everyone inside. The proximity never fails to mess with your head. He was always like this around everyone. Touching you, teasing you, making flirtatious remarks that would leave your cheeks rosy. And somehow, more nights than not, it ends with you folded in half beneath him.

You know all too well how it goes. He’d say and do all the right things, painting a picture so perfect it almost felt real. For a moment, it would make sense. Like he wanted you the way you wanted him. Then he’d zip up his pants and leave.

But everyone saw it tonight.

The way Yeonjun stands just a little extra close to you. How your drinks were always shared. His fingers sometimes finding your leg under the table like the flesh of your thigh was calling to him, inviting him to stake his claim.

You hear someone—probably Beomgyu—joke in your direction. “Just fuck already.”

While you choke on your drink, Yeonjun doesn't even blink. “Who says we haven’t?”

The group howled. You laughed too. But you didn’t look at him, not really anyway, afraid he'd catch the frown evident on your face.

There was always a line neither of you dared cross. In public, you let the world think it was just a little playful recklessness.

Behind closed doors, it was different.

He touched you like worship. Fucked you like he was starved—afraid you’d vanish the moment he stopped. He’d murmur things against your skin you weren’t supposed to remember, call you his, tell you how good you were, how only you made him feel like this. You’d cling to his shoulders like you believed it, too.

Lately, after those doors closed, Yeonjun had been acting off. Sex was still intense. Mind-numbing, even.

Yet something would shift the moment he came. How he'd untangled himself from your limbs like it hurt. The way he whispered a soft “Later,” like he was trying not to say something else.

He never used to leave so fast. You never used to care. Not until the cold, empty space next to you began begging to be filled with his warmth again. You wish you'd known what changed.

So when Yeonjun asks if you want to go upstairs, just the two of you, you don’t even question it. The apartment is too crowded, too warm, the buzz in your chest a little too strong to ignore. You nod, letting him lead the way, even though you already know how it’s going to end.

It only takes mere minutes before you're both stripped down to your undergarments, with you face down in the bed as he traces your skin like a canvas.

Yeonjun is straddling your thighs, admiring every inch of your body lying on your stomach before him. His fingers begin just behind your ear, tucking some hair away. Slowly they drag further down your skin—neck, shoulder, spine cascading with goosebumps, waist, hips, the plump skin of your ass and the lacey material that hugged it.

He finally grips you with both his hands, squeezing tightly before bending over your body and biting ever so softly on your earlobe. Your thighs press together, desire pooling in your thin panties already.

Then his voice is whispy and needy against your cheek. “You feel like home to me. I could look at you like this forever.”

It’s unclear what about this that makes you snap. But you’ve had enough being misled, enough of the unkept promises.

“You always say things like that when we're like this. It doesn’t mean anything.” You call him out, only half joking, mostly defensive.

Yeonjun stills—his gaze heavy on only your face. His response pulls the air straight from your lungs.

“It means everything. You just don’t listen.”

It’s then that you realize your eyes have begun filling with tears, which you refuse to let spill. The weight of the situation comes to a head

"Hey," Yeonjun coos. His hands are on your shoulders, forcing you to turn onto your back so he can see you properly. His eyes widen at your red eyes looking back at him, noticing the way you suddenly closed off. He slides next to you on his side.

"Yeonjun, what is this?" You huff, tears gone and replaced with anger. "Because I do listen. That's the problem. I listen to you and I believe what you say. And then you're gone."

He thinly smiles, but there's a layer of shame behind it. “There’s a reason I had to stop hanging around after. If I stayed any longer I might’ve scared you away.”

"Why would you scare me away?" You're nose to nose with him now. You don't know if it was you or he who scooted closer.

"Because I’d stop pretending. I'd ask you to stop seeing anyone else. I'd want to be enough for you. And if I wasn’t, I don’t think I could take it."

You freeze, finally seeing Yeonjun for all that he is now.

He speaks again when you can't find the words. “You think I tell just anyone they’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me while they’re falling apart under me?”

Your voice is quiet, but sure. "Then stop pretending. Yeonjun… I want more. I just didn’t think you did." Your hand drifts up his chest, resting over his heart. "You're more than enough.”

Yeonjun’s breath stutters. “Then let me show you what I’ve been holding back.”

He surges forward, capturing your mouth with his. He finally lets himself feel everything he’s been holding back.

Your legs tangle instinctively as you both remain on your sides, facing each other, bodies pressed close. His hand is on your hip, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the hard line of him, twitching through both your underwear, pressing right where you need him.

His forehead rests against yours as he begins to move—subtle rolls of his hips that grind his cock against your center, dragging friction with each pass.

“Feel that?” he breathes dreamily. “That’s what you do to me. Every damn time.”

You gasp, your own hips moving now, chasing the pressure, the closeness, the heat. Your fingers clutch at his flexed bicep, needing something to hold onto.

A broken moan catches in your throat. “You think I don’t feel the same?” You whisper, your tone shaky. Your hips roll to meet his, earning a low groan from his lips. “You leave and I lie in that bed wishing you’d just… stay. I don’t want anyone else, Yeonjun. Just you.”

He lets out an uneven breath like he’s been waiting to hear that for months. His hand slides down to your ass, splaying wide across the flesh to drag you even closer, like he could mold your bodies together.

“Say it again,” he begs, grinding harder now, lips brushing your jaw, your cheek, your temple. “Say it while I make you cum like this.”

You’re already gasping, forehead pressed to his, needing more and loving that this finally means something.

Every slow grind of his clothed cock against your soaked panties sends shocks through your core. You cling to him, overwhelmed by how good it feels.

“O-only you, Yeonjun.”

The second the words leave your mouth, he lights up like a match to gasoline. He groans and grips your ass even tighter, rutting against you now with less restraint. This sends pleasure coiling through your gut.

“Fuck,” he breathes against you, panting now, almost angry with need. “You’re always so perfect for me.”

His hand slips between your bodies, cupping your pussy over your panties and pressing down just enough to make the pressure unbearable. Your head falls back, body shaking as he rocks against you harder, dragging your panties across your swollen clit.

“You sound so fucking pretty,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. “Every moan—fuck—it’s going straight to my cock. Wanna fuck you slow after this. Real slow. Wanna feel you pulse around me ‘til you’re crying.”

"Please keep going. I need you." You whimper.

“You gonna cum for me like this? Just from grinding? Look how fucking needy you are. I know your body better than anyone, don’t I?”

You nod frantically, already there. The build-up has been burning in your gut since the moment he touched you, and now it’s crashing down in waves—your orgasm slamming into you so hard your knees buckle.

“Yeonjun—” you cry, nails digging into his arm, your hips jerking helplessly against his cock as you cum.

He holds you through it, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other still cupping your cunt, letting you ride the high out on his palm. You’re soaked, panties ruined, your whole body trembling as he whispers filth against your ear.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that. You cum so good for me.”

And then you feel it, how soaked he is.

The front of his boxers is soaked with pre-cum, the evidence of how hard he’s been holding back nearly obscene. He doesn’t even ask. He pushes his boxers down and tosses them aside, freeing himself. You’re still recovering, but the second his fingers hook into the sides of your panties and peel them off, the heat returns.

You don’t even think—your body moves on instinct. When he comes back down beside you, you grind against his thigh this time, and his jaw clenches at the feel of your bare, soaked folds dragging against his skin, leaving a trail of arousal in your wake.

“Holy shit,” he bites back a moans, watching you with heavy eyes. “Greedy girl. Get on your stomach again.”

You obey, letting him guide you down. He straddles your thighs like before, but this time, everything is different. This time, he knows you’re his. You know it, too.

“Ruin me, baby,” you whisper into the sheets.

He strokes himself slowly behind you, lined up and leaking, watching the way you lie flat before him. He lowers himself, chest and stomach pressed to your back, the weight of him trapping you.

“I meant every word I’ve ever said to you in bed,” he says softly before proceeding, brushing your hair to one side. “Every.” A kiss to your temple. "Single." To your neck. “One.” To the corner of your mouth.

Then he pushes in, sliding into your sensitive heat inch by inch until he’s fully buried. You choke on a moan.

“God, you’re so tight,” he whispers. “Still clenching from that last orgasm, huh? You’re gonna give me another, aren’t you? Such a good girl.”

He starts to move slowly at first, grinding into your sweet spot with every stroke. Your body reacts on its own, already building again. He keeps you flat against the bed, one arm cradling your waist, the other laced with your fingers when you reach back for him. He intertwines your fingers without question.

You’re gasping now, high-pitched whines escaping your lips, babbling about how good it feels, how full you are, how close you are again.

“Don’t stop, please, fuck—Yeonjun—gonna cum again.”

“Shit, baby, you’re so good,” he grits out, rutting into you harder now, hips slapping against your ass, the sound filthy and wet. “So fucking perfect. So tight around me I can barely think.”

You sob into the mattress, your whole body vibrating with pleasure. His cock taps that perfect spot again and again, and you can feel his rhythm falter, his breath hitch. He’s close, so close.

“So sexy like this. Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want me, baby?”

“On my ass,” you whimper. “Wanna feel you.”

That’s all he needs. His hand slides into your hair, gripping tight, pressing your cheek to the mattress. His thrusts grow frantic, your clit grinding against the sheets, the pressure sending sparks down your spine.

“I love you,” he gasps, voice raw. “I love you so fucking much—”

And then you’re both coming.

You first, spasming around him, thighs shaking uncontrollably as the friction sends you over the edge a second time. He pulls out quickly, stroking himself fast as thick, hot ropes spill across your ass and lower back, his body trembling above you.

Neither of you moves. Your face is still buried in the sheets, breathing hard. He leans down, kissing your spine, your shoulders, your cheek. He's extra tender now.

But the fire in both your bodies hasn’t gone out. Not even close. Yeonjun knows it, too. Not when you two are finally on the same page.

His lips brush your ear. “I think we’re gonna need a bed we can ruin properly.”

You smile, still breathless. “Then let's get out of here. I want more of you."

"Come on," he chuckles, rolling off the bed. He extends a hand to you, gently tugging you up with him. "Yours or mine?"

You hesitate to say yours, and he senses it. His hands cup your face on each side, lowering his head to meet your eye line. "It's okay. You’re not sleeping alone tonight. I won't make that mistake ever again."

You don’t say another word. There’s no need to.

Clothes are slipped back on in silence, the air still thick with everything that just passed between you. When you head back downstairs, hand in hand, you don’t miss the wide eyes and gaping mouths staring after you. Yeonjun tosses a few half-hearted goodbyes over his shoulder without slowing down. You stay close behind him, face tucked shyly into his back as he guides you out the door.

But behind your flustered smile, pride, giddiness, and relief are all wrapped in one. Because finally, Choi Yeonjun was yours.

tags: @vkravenz @bunnysoonie @zznblr @another-lemon-tree @gyudollies @beomgyusluver @dawngyu @boba-beom @taebatu @simpforseoho @beestvng @yyeonbinn @chubichubs @jooyeonsvape @txt-thelmi @zorange13 @jellyyjn @frenziedpiratetrap @gardnhee @txtsdoll

likes/comments/reposts are always appreciated <3

[izzyy-stuff]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 - 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍

IN WHICH after looking for an apartment for months you finally find a nice place, but it's too big and expensive for you to live alone in it so you ask her two best friends, hoping they could help you out.

pairing– childhood bsf!Choi Soobin x fem!reader

featuring– original characters, members of txt

genre– Fluff, Smut

contains– foreigner!reader, jealous!soobin, childhood friends to lovers, best friends to lovers, roommates au, streamer!soobin, streamer!beomgyu, uni romance, sunshine!reader, she has a lively personality, Soobin is in love, like really desperately so, Soobin has a license and a car, one sided pining, Soogyu shipped as a joke, jujutsu kaisen mentioned

smut warnings– inexperienced!Soobin, dry humping, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex + creampie, breast play, missionary, oral (f. receiving)

word count– 20k

playlist

↪ izzy speaks... I'm finally getting to my old ideas!! I was so excited to write this (even though I struggled a bit as I actually don't play many games myself) and I'm really happy with how it turned out! I hope you'll enjoy it just as much <3

only lightly proofread!

The first memory of Soobin you have is from when you were ten, freshly moved into town, with no idea how to say anything but a short and simple introduction. You were in Korea for a month, still trying to figure out the alphabet and all the school paperwork in your hands written in what seemed like hieroglyphics as you walked through the school hallway, trying to find your way around. 

“I give up,” you groan, your hands falling back to your sides as you look around, hoping for any clue on where the principal’s office might be. You debate calling your dad, asking him to pick you up and begging him in the car to turn down his promotion after all and take you back home because it’s hell here, but you stop yourself. 

Instead, you take a few eager steps forward, determined to reach the office no matter what. But to your luck, you find yourself on the other side of the school, blinking quickly as you try to make sense of the situation unfolding in front of you. Three guys hovering over another boy who keeps his eyes on the textbook in front of him, trying to make it look like he isn’t intimidated by them. But you notice the slight flinch of his arm when one of them raises his voice. 

You frown, trying to find the right words. Whatever you could say, you weren’t sure if they would understand you. You knew there wasn’t a high chance of them speaking English, and you definitely didn’t know how to tell them to get lost in their language. 

You’re not sure how much time passes when you just stand there, trying to figure something out but eventually, they notice you. You watch them exchange some words that sound like curses, completely ignoring your presence as they press him further, demanding something from the poor boy in the chair. 

“Leave him–” Before you can finish your sentence, a strong voice interrupts you, the Korean echoing through the empty classroom. It makes them all back up without hesitation and you turn around as well to see what was so scary behind you. Your eyes meet with an older man who you can only assume is one of the teachers. He asks you something but you just shake your head, trying to explain that you don’t understand him. It’s useless because before you can even open your mouth, his attention redirects to the boys behind you, talking to them instead. 

After a short moment, his eyes travel back to you, tilting his head slightly as he observes you. “You’re the new foreign student?” Your eyes widen at his English, immediately nodding. You introduce yourself, asking him about the principal’s office. “Yeah, you’re all going to the principal’s office,” he mumbles, yelling at the boys again. You blink a few times, watching them pass by and grumble something under their breath as they follow the teacher outside. 

The boy from the chair walks last, his head down and his bag swinging on his shoulder. He looks around your age, even though his height suggests otherwise. You quickly catch up to him, asking if he’s okay. He glances at you, scanning your features before nodding. You smile, offering him your hand with a memorized introduction. “Soobin,” he hesitates before grabbing your hand, frowning a bit as you shake it. He doesn’t say anything else and you don’t either, just quietly walking towards the principal’s office, preparing to get questioned about what had happened. 

You quickly learnt the names of the three guys in your first week, everyone telling you to stay away from them when they heard about the incident you walked in on. Apparently, ‘Hyunwoo and his dogs’ as the kids liked to call them, were quite famous for their behaviour. From drawing on all the possible tables in school to more violent rumors, one you might have saved Soobin from that day. 

You haven’t seen him since, but you found other friends. A girl that you were seated beside (Thank you, seating chart, you say to this day) and her older sister Jisoo, who you later found out was in the same class as Soobin. She helped you understand a lot of materials and kindly explained everything she could within her English skills, while Jisoo took you under her wing in the social sense, telling you everything about everyone and making sure you knew who to avoid interacting with. You were grateful to both of them, you still are to this day. 

The second time you met Soobin was almost six months later in the hallway when you were rushing to your next class and accidentally bumped into an upperclassman. You mumbled an apology and tried to push past but it was already too late.

 “Watch where you’re going,” Taeyang, one of Hyunwoo’s ‘dogs’ pushes you, and before you can stop the fight from happening, a group of kids creates a circle around you, some of them cheering and some whispering about what is happening. You sigh, running your hand through your hair. 

“Foreigner is fighting with Taeyang in the hall right now!” 

Soobin immediately looks up from his textbook, eyes widened as he watches everyone in the class stand up and rush outside to see the situation for themselves. “Oh god,” Jisoo mumbles from behind him, quickly pushing through others to get there first. He stays seated for a while, waiting for everyone to leave before standing up and making his way out. 

The argument is already at its peak when he arrives, trying to make his way through the crowd of people. 

“Let’s go,” Jisoo tries to tug at the hem of your shirt. “Stay out of it, Yoon,” Taeyang warns her immediately, taking a step forward. You swallow a lump in your throat as you look up at him, ready to take whatever is coming. “This little bitch thinks she can push me and then tell me to watch where I’m going.” 

“That’s enough.” You jerk your head to the side when you hear the voice, your brows furrowing in confusion as you watch Soobin place his hand on Taeyang’s shoulder and push him back. “You’re crossing the line. Leave.” It’s obvious from the look in his eyes that he wants to argue, fight maybe even, but with the way Soobin towers over him and stares him down, it leaves him no other choice but to back up. 

“You think you can scare me?” 

“I don’t care if you’re scared. What I care about is that you’re going too far. Especially since you’re in the wrong,” he states calmly, casually moving to stand between him and you, covering both you and Jisoo from Taeyang’s sight completely. You blink a few times, confusedly glancing between your friend and the giant in front of you. 

“Soobin doesn’t do fights,” Jisoo leans in to whisper into your ear. “No matter if Yeonjun or Beomgyu are involved, he avoids these situations no matter what.” 

“Whatever,” Taeyang mumbles after a moment of hesitation, pushing past the crowd to get away. You watch him confusedly, trying to figure out how. How could he start a whole fight with you just to run away the second another boy shows up? 

“Are you okay?” Soobin’s soft voice takes you out of your thoughts, making you look at him again. “Yeah,” you nod. “Thank you, Soobin.” 

After that day, it became somehow easier for you to find your way into his life. Joining him at lunch, going to his class during break to spend time with Jisoo but eventually just striking up a conversation with him instead. You just wanted to befriend him. 

And you did. 

Everything turned into a routine shortly after, from eating together and spending time with each other during breaks, to studying together and hanging out outside of school as well. You often accompanied him to pc cafe’s and laughed as he argued with his best friend over who was better, and in return, he always paid for your drink. It was comfortable with Soobin, and you soon started calling him your best friend. 

For Soobin, it was the same. It was comfortable hanging out with you. He could be himself without having to worry about what you thought of him. He watched you get along with his friends, immediately blending in, he admired you as you told him about your day when he walked you home—also a routine you started after a few months when you realized you live in the same direction—and he was there for you every time. No matter how bizarre your problem was, he was there, and he made sure you understood that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

But over time, his affection towards you started turning into something more. He started noticing the little things you did, like scratching your nose when you tried to focus on something really hard, or how you always doodled in the corner of your notebook when you were zoning out. He tried not to pay attention to those things at first and ignore the weird feeling in his stomach every time he talked to you, but he eventually realized that wasn’t an option. 

So, he let his feelings get the best of him. He’s never done anything about them, but they were there and he knew about them. 

Jisoo caught onto them as well, he believes. She never said anything to him about it or you as far as he knew but it was obvious from the way she looked at him whenever he was around you. Still, he acted as if he couldn’t see it, deciding it would be for the best to just ignore whatever he was feeling so he wouldn’t ruin your friendship. 

“Soobin!” The fifteen year old turned around immediately at the familiar voice, his eyes wide with question as you ran into his class, the biggest grin on your face. “Yes?” 

You hold up a piece of paper in front of him, beaming like the ray of sunshine he knows you as. “Look!” 

“I told you you’d do great,” he smiles back, scanning the A- on top of the page written in red ink with his eyes. “It’s only thanks to you! God, I could kiss you right now!” You exclaim, almost tearing the paper in half from excitement. 

Please do. His eyes soften but he doesn’t say anything, biting back the words that hang on the tip of his tongue. He can’t. No matter how much his heart wants to, he knows better than to be reckless and admit his feelings in the middle of the classroom just because you said something you don’t even mean. 

His hand moves up on its own, coming to cup your face. But when he realizes what he’s doing, he quickly pats your head instead. That was the first and last time he was close to confessing or taking a step forward he could never take back again. He couldn’t. The more he watched your smile, the more he knew he had to hold back his feelings no matter what. 

“Let’s go, you should get to your next class,” he mumbles instead, averting his eyes from you. Get a grip. 

You blink at him through your lashes but nod. He’s right. You do need to get to your next class. You just wanted to show him your accomplishment first. After all, he was the one who sat with you and explained all the material to you for hours. “I’ll see you later then,” you smile, hiding the test result back into your bag. “Our place?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, something you can’t quite name flickering in his eyes. 

The soft ringtone echoes through the room, the flash making Soobin glance to the side. “Fuck,” he mumbles, focusing on his monitor again. “I need to take this, you got it for a second?” 

“Yeah, go ahead,” his best friend, Beomgyu, answers, and Soobin immediately mutes himself, giving an apologetic look into the camera for his watchers. He notices a few comments asking who is calling him and what kind of call he is receiving but he doesn’t answer any of them, picking up his phone and turning off his webcam. 

“Soobie!” You exclaim and his lips immediately curve into a smile. “Yeah?” He asks, relaxing in his gaming chair. “I found the perfect apartment!” You explain and his eyes immediately widen in excitement as well. You’ve been looking for weeks now but everything was always either too pricey or far from university. “Yeah?” He’s pretty sure you can hear the smile in his voice but he doesn’t care. “Is it close?” 

“Super close! I could even skate to school if I wanted to.” 

“You? Skate?” He snorts. “Like on a skateboard?” Just the idea of seeing you trying to balance a skateboard was hilarious to him. He knew that if you put your mind to it you could do it, but until then, he was free to imagine you falling over and over again. 

 “I could learn from Ryan,” you roll your eyes. Right. There he was again. Soobin’s smile falters for just a second, his mind drifting to the “absolute love of your life” as you like to call him. You knew him for just a little over a year and somehow, he managed to become one of your best friends. Which, if he was honest, was pissing him off. 

It felt as if you were incapable of leaving him out of conversations and even though he knew he had no right to feel this way, he was jealous. 

“Sure you could. Call me when you do so I can come along and see you fall over and over again.” And so I could make sure he doesn’t try anything. 

“As much as I love you, you’re such a brat sometimes,” you shake your head at him, a quiet laugh escaping your lips. “You got that from Beomgyu.” 

“Take that back,” he fake gasps, making you laugh. There is a smile on his face again right away, his eyes softening when he listens to your laugh. “Anyway, that’s not why I called. I was thinking…maybe, we could come look at the apartment together again tomorrow. It has three bedrooms and two bathrooms. It’s definitely too big for me to live there alone.” 

“Are you suggesting I move in with you?” Soobin blinks a few times, trying to figure out if this is a joke or one of his many dreams coming true. There was no way, right? “And finally get to escape Beomgyu’s nasty room? Please.” You laugh on the other side of the phone, again. 

“He probably wouldn’t like hearing that.” 

“Good thing he is in his room with headphones and I’m muted then.” 

“Wait, shit, am I interrupting your stream?” Your eyes widen immediately, apologies slipping from your lips. “It’s fine,” he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. But…you’re serious, right? This isn’t one of your jokes?” 

“I swear on my family that I seriously want to move in with you,” you assure him. Soobin could feel his smile growing even wider, looking at his computer screen to make sure he was still muted and his webcam was off. He wasn’t sure how he would explain his smile if he weren’t. He must have looked stupid smiling like a ray of sunshine just because his best friend was calling. 

“Isn’t it still too big though? Don’t you want to look for something smaller?” 

“I’m actually planning on calling Ryan right after we hang up. He’s been looking for a place as well so we could kill two birds with one stone. I wanted to ask you first, though.” 

“Ryan?” Seriously? What was with his luck lately? “None of your girlfriends?” 

“I do not want to be the reason you start hooking up with Jisoo or any other of my friends for that matter. So no, none of my girlfriends,” you roll your eyes, chuckling. You think it’s a joke, it was meant to sound like that, but before you can add to it, he interrupts you. “I don’t want to hook up with any of your friends,” he grumbles, taking it more seriously than he should. You frown, “Okay? Sorry, I didn’t think you would actually hook up with my friends.” 

Soobin sighs, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure what’s gotten into him all of a sudden. “No, I’m sorry. So, tomorrow you said? What time?” 

“Two pm! I remember your schedule correctly, right? You don’t have a lesson then, do you?” 

“Nope, two pm is great,” he nods slightly, looking at the chat under his stream. They were currently laughing at something Beomgyu did but he wasn’t sure what it was. “I should get back, looks like Beomgyu did something stupid.” 

“Yeah, of course. Have fun, I’ll join in a bit,” you smile, saying your goodbyes before hanging up. Soobin rests his head against his chair as he places his phone down again, groaning quietly as he hides his face in his hands. He wasn’t sure if this little arrangement you had in mind would work but he wasn’t going to miss out on his chance just because of some one-sided beef he has with Ryan. That would just be stupid. 

So the next day, he finds himself standing in front of the address you provided him at 1:50, nervously looking around and trying to find you with his eyes. Instead, his eyes fall on a boy, his fluffy hair falling in front of his eyes. “Hey,” he calls at Soobin, making him force a smile as he waves at him awkwardly. “You got here earlierly.” 

“Yeah,” Soobin shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Didn’t want to make a bad impression before even moving in.” Ryan chuckles, nodding, “Didn’t expect any less from you.” Soobin frowns, trying to figure out what that even means. He doesn’t say anything else though, simply joining him by his side. 

Ryan is around Soobin’s height, slightly taller actually. His hair is black, catching small waves at the ends, and his eyes are a lighter shade of brown than Soobin’s. He’s in all black, like every time he’s met him, comfortable in his loose shirt and jeans. Every time they stand beside each other, Soobin wonders if that’s what you’re into. He looks down on his outfit, a white button-up with light blue jeans, a completely different aesthetic from Ryan’s. 

Soobin shakes his head, snapping out of his thoughts. He wasn’t even sure what he was worried about. Sure, Ryan might play the guitar, make music, skate, possess English skills that he could only dream about and be a foreigner (which was also the reason you started talking to him in the first place), but that didn’t mean he was going to steal you from him, did it? 

It doesn’t take much longer for you to arrive as well, greeting both boys with a hug. Soobin’s hands wrap around your waist, carefully inhaling the soft scent of your hair as he lingers in the hug for a little longer than he should. You giggle as you step back, smiling at them warmly. “Should we then?” 

You follow the owner around the empty house, pointing at certain areas and chatting about how you could decorate it and where to put what furniture. Both guys just keep nodding to you, figuring it was for the best to just have your moment. You don’t mind. 

“Okay, I’ll let you look around on your own. Just shut the door when you leave and send me a text,” she squeezes your arm lightly with a warm smile and you nod immediately. She’s sweet and has been treating you with nothing but respect and kindness since she laid her eyes on you so it was easy to return the favor to her. 

“I will. Have fun on your date,” you smile, prompting the guys to say their goodbyes as you watch her leave. “You two have gotten close,” Ryan comments with a snort, making you roll your eyes. “Yeah well, I want to live here so it’s normal to have a good relationship with the owner, don’t you think?” He shakes his head at you but doesn’t say anything else. 

“Well then, what do you think?” You look between the two boys, hopeful. Soobin smiles at you immediately, unable to hold back when he sees the spark in your eyes. “It’s really pretty,” he mumbles, his eyes soft. You beam right away and it makes him even less sure if he was talking about the apartment or you. “Yeah, you weren’t lying when you said it was, and I quote: ‘the only and greatest apartment to ever exist.’” Ryan laughs. You resist the urge to kick him in the leg and decide to turn to Soobin instead. 

“I’ve heard the connection is great and the internet doesn’t crash or anything, so you could stream and play games without any problem. And! We could set your console in the living room and play together on the couch, that’d be fun, right?” 

Soobin nods, “Yeah, that sounds great.” 

“So you guys are happy? We can talk about the arrangement and settle everything? Please say yes, I’m going insane over here.” Both boys chuckle and nod, making you jump up immediately. “Okay, in that case what do you think about…” 

The three of you walk around the apartment once again, deciding where to have the kitchen corner, which bathroom will be yours and which the boys, and then also assigning the bedrooms. Ryan immediately took dips on the smallest one, saying something about it being cozy and just spacious enough for him and his music, which left you and Soobin. 

“It’s yours,” he says calmly as you stop in the largest room. You glance up at him, shaking your head. “No, no, you should have it. You need space for your computer and all, you should take the room. I’m fine with the other one,” you assure him but he doesn’t budge, trying to use the gentleman card and saying you should have the first pick as the female. Jokes on him, you immediately played around with his words and said you want to pick the slightly smaller one. He wanted to convince you to have it but before he could open his mouth again, you ran off. 

“What is it?” Soobin blinks as he sees Ryan leaning on the wall beside him, watching them with a smirk on his face. He shakes his head, glancing towards where you ran off before looking back at Soobin. “Nothing,” he answers, walking off with a knowing smile. Soobin frowns, sighing before following you. 

And just like that, after a little paperwork and preparation, you slowly start moving in, until the apartment is full of boxes, furniture, books, and laughter from all three of you. It doesn’t take long for you to ease into a comfortable rhythm, dividing chores and setting some ground rules to avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings or fights. 

It all feels easy, honestly. You spend every morning in the kitchen together before leaving for school and then relax together again over dinner. It often ends up with all of you disappearing into your own rooms and studying or simply doing your own thing, but every once in a while, you stay longer, playing games on the TV with Soobin or watching a movie with Ryan. You always laugh loudly with them, and it makes you appreciate them a tiny bit more. 

“This is the last time I let you pick a game,” Soobin mumbles, staring at his computer screen, headphones on and his stream on his other monitor. It’s been a good two hours and half of him and Beomgyu playing roblox games and every time it was Gyu’s turn to pick what they were going to play, he came with some terrible, cringe one, full of thirteen year olds telling them both they were fucking their moms. It was interesting, for sure, to see what was going through the heads of kids these days. 

“Not my fault you don’t know how to have fun.” Soobin rolls his eyes, looking over at the chat. Half of them were sending a laughing emote, while the other half encouraged Soobin to play more, having fun while watching him suffer. “Let’s play something normal, please.” 

“Chat, this is him just saying he wants to play doors. Again,” Beomgyu scoffed. “Fine, we can play but if you die at the beginning again I swear I will drive to your apartment and choke you to death.” 

“Warning received,” Soobin snorts. “Let’s finally get through level 100, it’s embarrassing at this point.” Beomgyu couldn’t argue with that. It wasn’t the first roblox stream they did together and somehow, they always ended up playing at least a few rounds of the game but never made it past level 80. Either Soobin died too soon by the stupidest death possible, or he lost the run at level fifty. Either way, Beomgyu always ended up alive alone, with little to no chances. 

The game started and like always, it took them more than way too many tries to have them both alive by the time they reached level seventy, both hiding in their own closets as Soobin swore he saw the light flicker. Beomgyu was skeptical about believing him at first but as the closet shakes and a dark shadow runs in front of him, he sighs in relief. 

“Okay, let’s just stay alive for a bit longer,” Gyu comments, running to a door with number seventy one. It’s just a few doors later that Beomgyu dies on accident, leaving Soobin alone. There’s a loud curse that leaves his lips and it causes you to peek into his room. Soobin notices you in the corner of the stream recording and pushes his headphones off while keeping his eyes on the game as he gets through another door. “Sorry, am I being too loud?” 

“No, it’s fine,” you shake your head, smiling awkwardly as you come closer. It’s not the first time you’ve appeared in one of his videos but it still feels embarrassing. You wouldn’t say you’re exactly fit for the camera. “What are you playing?” You ask, answering yourself when your eyes land on the screen. “Hey, Beom,” you lean even closer so you reach Soobin’s microphone, giggling slightly. 

Soobin watches you, really hoping no one is about to kill him because he can’t focus on anything other than your figure beside him. He is in so much trouble. 

Your name leaves Beomgyu’s lips like a prayer, almost begging you to take over and push through the levels which has the chat laughing on the side. You look at your best friend to see if Gyu is exaggerating or if he really needs help. He only gives you a shy smile, his eyes soft as he watches you. “Alright, get up. You’re getting benched,” you laugh as he stands up from his chair and you sit down instead, greeting the chat warmly before focusing solely on the game. 

Soobin brings another chair to sit on, leaving it in the background as he watches, a part of him absolutely in love as you interact with his chat and push past the levels, the other part feeling angsty. You’re right here, making him feel like the luckiest boy on the planet but at the same time, you’re as far as you can be. 

His cheeks grow hotter as he notices a few of the watchers commenting how cute you two look together and some of the new fans asking if you’re his girlfriend. He doesn’t answer any of them but they sit in the back of his mind, thinking about them, about you. You don’t seem to pay them any attention but he wonders what you think of them, of the thought of you and him together. 

Somehow, in the blink of an eye, you manage to pass level one hundred and Soobin snaps out of his thoughts as your loud cheer echoes through the room. You turn to face him immediately, excitement written all over your face and he gives you one of his proud smiles, wishing to do nothing else but wrap his arms around you and never let go. 

“Okay you can die now, I want to play something else,” Beomgyu says, making you turn again which causes Soobin’s face to fall for a brief second. “I should go. I can’t steal Soobin’s job entirely,” you laugh, the sound sending a wave through Soobin’s body. Yeah, he was fucked. 

You really do leave shortly after and Soobin ignores all the comments asking about you, playing for another hour before he ends the stream, sighing loudly as he leans back in his chair. 

“You should work on your expressions,” Beomgyu comments, the sound of a drawer opening and then closing again heard in the background of their call. “What are you talking about?” Soobin asks confusedly, frowning. “My chat has been asking me about you and her. Apparently it’s ‘super obvious’ with the way you look at her.” 

“I don’t look at her anyhow,” he argues and a scoff leaves Gyu’s lips. “Say that to the fans and editors because I’ve seen you, it is super obvious. I want to tell you you have nothing to worry about, I really do, but who knows what she’s going to think when people start shipping you together and pointing out you are head over heels for your best friend.” 

“They already ship you and me together. They do think I’m head over heels for my best friend,” Soobin rolls his eyes, trying to make a joke out of the situation. Because Beomgyu was right, and he wasn’t sure how he would explain it to you if you believed them. 

“Babe, I thought we were keeping it a secret,” Beomgyu gasps dramatically, making him laugh. “And also, we divorced the moment you decided to move out and live with your side chick and arch nemesis.” 

“Okay, stop calling them that.” 

“Why? Am I speaking lies? You literally told me and Yeonjun that you were going to die living with your biggest enemy and jerking off material in the same house.” 

“I didn’t! Stop calling her those weird names, god,” he groans, closing his eyes from embarrassment. Beomgyu laughs on the other side of the phone. “Then do something so I can finally call her your girlfriend because this isn’t even funny anymore.” 

“I’m hanging up,” Soobin proclaims, completely ignoring his best friend and the incredibly stupid topic of conversation. “Have a good night.” 

“Coward!” Beomgyu accuses him with a laugh before saying his goodbye and hanging up. Soobin sighs, staying seated in his place for a while longer before finally deciding to stand up and leave his room to get something to eat. 

He comes into the kitchen right when you’re in the middle of plating a pizza on three plates, making him raise his eyebrow as he comes closer. “I didn’t know you brought pizza.” You look up at him and smile as you hand him his portion. “Not me. Ryan did. His date bought it apparently,” you wiggle your eyebrow teasingly. Soobin blinks quickly to hide the surprise on his face, holding onto the plate with his two pieces. “I didn’t know he was seeing someone.” 

“It’s a secret, act like you don’t know or else he’s going to kill me. He said it’s top secret information but who would I be to keep anything from my favorite best friend?” You lean closer to him, whispering with a soft giggle. You pull back and smirk, “don’t say that to anyone either, though. I can’t have them know you are my number one.” 

Soobin feels like he stops working for a second. Your perfume reaches his nose, already making him weak in the knees. And as if that wasn’t enough you keep saying things that mess with his head. Things that definitely aren’t good for his mental health. He isn’t a psychiatrist but he is sure that if he attended therapy the first thing they’d tell him would be to stop thinking about you like you’re his soulmate and distance himself. 

“Also, Ryan said he’s going to be out tomorrow night so we’ll have dinner without him.” Soobin hesitates, taking a bite of his food as he watches you. “Do you want to go out then?” He asks, a little more hopeful than he should be. “We can get something to eat and do something fun.” 

“That sounds great,” you beam immediately, grinning widely as you pick up the two plates from the counter. “Late night drive around with some maccies is what I’ve been craving.” 

“Okay, then we have a plan,” he smiles and you walk off to Ryan’s room, letting him know you’re going to watch a movie together and that if he needs anything, he can just text you. 

He doesn’t. Because all he can think about for the rest of the night is that Ryan is seeing someone who isn’t you. The day couldn’t get better. 

“Come here,” you shake your head, making your best friend look up. Soobin blinks a few times but listens, closing the distance between you. You undo his tie, causing his eyes to widen. You don’t say anything, simply redoing it to make it look better. It’s been his thing, wearing button-ups with a tie every day and making it look casual but somehow, he still managed to mess up. It was kind of cute, honestly. “There,” you smile, taking a step back to take a proper look. 

Soobin’s surprised face makes you chuckle. “Let’s take a picture, you look nice today,” you encourage, pushing him towards a body sized mirror in the hallway. He has to blink a few times before he takes out his phone but still doesn’t say anything, trying to calm himself down. This isn’t a date, he has to remind himself every time you look up at him with those sparkly eyes and make his heart race just a bit faster. 

He wraps his arm around your waist and you lean closer to him, smiling into the mirror as he takes a picture of the two of you. You ask him to send it to you immediately after it’s done and he just nods, mumbling a quiet “will do,” before grabbing his car keys and stepping into his shoes. 

You grab a jacket from the hanger, following Soobin out of the door as you rant about being hungry and how it took him forever to end his stream and dress up. He doesn’t argue with you because he knows you’re right. It’s already way past 10pm. He knows he is lucky he offered to buy otherwise you might actually choke him. 

You sit in the passenger seat, scrolling through your playlist as you try to find something fitting the vibe while Soobin drives off, taking you to the closest McDonalds like you asked the day before. “Oh. My. God. This is it!” You exclaim and Soobin glances at you, raising an eyebrow curiously. When Home by Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros starts playing on his car’s speaker and you show him the playlist you’ve made with him when you were in high school, his eyes soften. 

“That was definitely one of my most played songs a few years back,” he mumbles, taking a turn to the right. “And it was your fault because you loved borrowing my phone for music.” You giggle, placing the phone down and looking out the window. The sun has long gotten down, now replaced with a night sky full of stars. It was quiet, the only sound interrupting your thoughts the song you put on and occasional cars in the other line. 

Soobin only stops the car once he gets to the drive through, lowering the music so it’s barely audible. You don’t even get a chance to speak up before he is already ordering, making sure to get everything you could possibly want. You just watch him, admiring him from your place. It’s easy with him, comfortable, and every time you see him act so boyfriendable, you wonder why he doesn’t have a girl already. You know this is exactly what girls search for in guys, you aren’t an exception. After Jisoo pointed it out one time, you realized you always looked for a piece of your best friend in the guys you dated. 

“Anything else?” He turns to you, the softest smile on his face and you just shake your head, your lips curling into the same stupid grin. “Okay, that’ll be all then,” he says happily, slowly driving the car forward to pick up the drinks. He puts a coke in the middle of the two of you before handing you a milkshake, placing his own beside the coke. 

The happiness is obvious on your face as you get your hands on the food and Soobin drives off, trying to think of a spot to park the car so he could eat as well. “God, this is exactly what I meant when I said I want to have late night car dates with you back when we were little with no idea how cars work,” you take a bite, leaning into your seat. “This is so good.” That’s when an idea flickers in his head, turning the car around as soon as he can. “Remember when we used to hang out at the playground and you’d dream about staying there forever?” 

“Oh my god! And then you’d tell me that’s not possible because I’d catch a cold and die alone because you wouldn’t stay there forever with me! I was so mad at you and cried to Jisoo about not wanting to die alone!” You laugh at the memory. 

“I just wanted to make you go home where you’d be safe,” he proclaims, his eyes focused on the road. “But if it wouldn’t work and you’d want to stay there, I would have stayed with you forever,” he says casually, so simply that you don’t think anything of it because in reality, it’s just a few words. But he is anything but calm as he secretly glances at you in the rearview mirror, hoping to catch something in your expression. You giggle again, sharing the briefest smile with him before taking a sip of the coke. 

He should feel disappointed or sad that his words do nothing to you. He should. If it was him, and you told him you would stay with him forever, he might as well drop to one knee and propose to you immediately. But you aren’t him. And even though he knows you don’t feel the same attraction to him like he does, he can’t seem to feel the sadness or anger. All he feels is happiness. Happiness that despite all that, he can still have you like this, beside him, laughing as you talk about childhood memories, looking equally as pleased as he is. 

Your eyes widen when you notice him parking near the playground you were so obsessed with when you were younger. “It still stands,” you whisper, the sound so quiet you think he doesn’t even catch it. “They’ve made some changes throughout the years but yeah, still stands.” You turn to face him, your expression a mixture of happiness, gratefulness, but also vulnerability because of all the memories the playground holds. His eyes soften, if that was even possible anymore. “Let’s go?” 

You settle on the top of the slide, your legs tangled together as you try to fit into the small space for kids. All the food is placed between you, and the only sounds filling Soobin’s ears are your giggles as you play with your food and tease him endlessly. He takes out his phone and you grin, posing with your milkshake. He laughs as well, putting the phone down beside him as he takes a handful of fries. 

A comfortable silence settles over you, the street lamp casting a soft light over his face. He leans back, watching the sky as if he wanted to count every star possible. 

“Do you ever wonder how we work out?” His eyes flicker back to you, his expression slightly confused. “What do you mean?” 

“Just that…I know people used to think we were a weird duo. Remember when Yeonjun saw us hanging out for the first time and asked you if I didn’t black mail you into dealing with me?” You laugh quietly at the memory, taking another sip of your milkshake. “But then again, I guess you do keep similar types of people around you.” 

“Did you just accidentally compare yourself to Beomgyu?” 

You gasp, trying to sound offended. It doesn’t last long because you end up laughing again. It’s always easy to laugh with him. “I mean, I guess. I don’t know what I’m talking about, honestly. It’s probably the fact we’ve been friends for so long and I already know all your deepest darkest secrets so I can’t ask about that.” 

“You mean like the fact you practically asked Taehyun to marry you the first time I introduced you?” He teases and your eyes widen as you slap his hand. “Come on! Don’t go revealing my secrets like it’s nothing! Plus, we were eleven and unlike your other friends, he was the only one treating me like a lady instead of your little punching bag!” You complain. 

“Definitely not my fault Yeonjun and Beomgyu were immature little shits,” he laughs. “Yeah, well, they still are,” you huff even though you know it’s far from that. Yeonjun has turned into a gentleman who helps old people carry things when he sees them struggling without a second of hesitation, and Beomgyu has been nothing but respectful to every woman he’s met since you slapped him for making an inappropriate joke back when you were fourteen. 

Soobin shrugs, unable to hide the smile on his face, “It’s good you’re always there to put them back in their place then.” You roll your eyes playfully, your eyes narrowing in mischief that doesn’t pass by unnoticed by your best friend. But before he can ask what you’re thinking about, you quickly untangle your legs and sit at the top of the slide, glancing at him over your shoulder. “First one on the swing wins.” 

The night is filled with laughter and stupid jokes as you move around the playground. You get to the swing first, partly because you gave yourself an advantage, but mostly because he has no desire to win. He does get down as well though, and ends up lazily swinging you back and forth while you talk about how school is going and he tells you about today’s stream. It’s intimate, and anyone walking near would think you’re on a date, but the thought doesn’t even cross your mind for a brief second. 

Soobin can’t say the same thing. Because with every brush of his hand on yours, every joke you crack, every memory, and every smile he gets from you, the more he has to remind himself that this is just a casually friendly hangout and he has no right to think of you in the way he does. If he allows himself to believe anything else it won’t go nicely for him. Because no matter how much he wishes to have you more than he already does, he knows it’s not possible. 

“I think we work out because you’ve always just been you around me without being worried about what I’d think and I’ve always admired you, knowing I’d do anything for you just to keep you in my life.” 

The words come out before Soobin can think them through. It’s raw, so vulnerable that he can’t bear looking you in the eyes afterwards, turning around and walking back to the slide to grab all the trash you left there. You blink a few times, smiling like a little kid as you watch him comfortably reach for everything when the memory of little Soobin flashes into your mind and you remember how much he struggled to reach it before. You’ve both surely grown a lot. 

“We should get back, it’s late,” he mumbles, still avoiding looking you in the eyes. You don’t point it out even though you’re confused on why that is and follow him to his car, quickly dozing off as he drives off and Everyone Adores You (at least I do) by Matt Maltese from your high school playlist plays in the car. 

You’re not sure how you got to bed last night but you don’t exactly care either. All you care about is that your makeup is wiped off and you can get ready without cursing at yourself for sleeping without doing your night routine. 

You join Ryan in the kitchen with a warm greeting and he gives you an awkward smile, immediately making you narrow your eyes as you question what happened. Sure, he wasn’t exactly a morning person but that never stopped him from smiling for real when he saw you. He sighs, a sound so heavy and tired you know whatever he’s about to tell you isn’t going to be good. 

You sit on the couch and talk about his date from last night, the English echoing through the apartment. It was always easier for the two of you to talk in English as you could express yourself better and get the emotions out right, especially if it was just the two of you and you didn’t need to worry about leaving anyone out of the conversation by them not being able to understand you. Normally, if you were having a conversation in English and Soobin joined you, you’d try to switch to Korean as quickly as possible, but this time it just didn’t feel right. So you let Ryan talk without pointing out the fact Soobin stood on the side, frowning as he tried to make sense of what he was saying. 

“Who has a boyfriend?” He asks confusedly and when the Korean reaches Ryan’s ears, he switches as well. “It’s just–” he sighs again. “My date from last night. I found out good twenty minutes into the date because guess what, he was the fucking cook in the restaurant and I was just there to make him jealous.” 

You feel sorry for him. This was the first time since he moved to the country that he was brave enough to go on a date with someone and this is how it turned out. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into a tight hug, rubbing soft circles on the back of his neck instinctively. You don’t even realize you’re doing so but Soobin does, and as soon as he sees you like this with Ryan, something in him boils. No matter how many times he reminds himself he has no right to feel jealous, the emotion creeps up his spine before he can stop it. 

“You can’t blame yourself for how things turned out. You couldn’t have known. Next time will be better. I can help you find–” 

“I’m done with dating. Never was for me anyway,” he interrupts you, pulling back so you let him go and he can stand up. “If it was, I wouldn’t be this way.” His last words hit the hardest but before you can call after him and tell him he’s wrong, he locks himself in his room, leaving you frozen on the couch, feeling as bad for him as you can. 

“I thought girls love musicians. He has a lot of fans, doesn’t he? Surely there is someone who would love him in a way he deserves,” Soobin comments as he prepares his breakfast, scanning your face for any signs that you might be looking to love him in that way. “It’s complicated,” you mumble as you join him, glancing at Ryan’s bedroom door. “I just wish he wouldn’t think so badly of himself.” 

Ryan leaves the apartment as soon as he steps out of his room again to get to his morning lessons on time while you and Soobin watch him from the kitchen. You wish him good luck before he can leave and he smiles slightly but doesn’t say anything else, wanting to be left alone as soon as possible. You don’t blame him, honestly. 

“Should we go as well?” Soobin asks, breaking the silence that’s taken over the apartment. “Yeah, I’m just going to run to the bathroom real quick,” you nod, doing as you said before leaving with Soobin by your side. 

You notice a few girls chatting and giggling while watching you as soon as you step on campus but you don’t pay it much attention, convincing yourself you’re imagining it. It’s not until your third lesson that you share with Jisoo that you find out the looks weren’t just in your head. 

“How could you not tell me?” She questions, offended, as she plops her bag onto the chair beside you. You blink confusedly, turning your head to face her. “Tell you what exactly?” You ask confusedly, watching her sit down. “That you’re dating?” She scans your face for an answer before her eyes widen. “Oh my god, you’re not dating!” She gasps, quickly searching for something on her phone. “I thought that you finally got together! God, I got totally fooled!” 

She hands you her phone and your eyes land on Soobin’s new post. He posted last night, shortly after you made it back home. The first picture is of you and him in the hallway, the picture you made him take before going out. You swipe to look at more, your eyes scanning the photo of the food you had, all laid out on the top of the slide, your figure on the side. The next one is the one with a milkshake. It makes you smile. The last one is of the night sky, all pictures put together under one description: Healing night. 

You bite back your smile, your ears catching red as you open the comments. There are girls calling you pretty, some people asking if this is a hard launch, a few asking where the pictures are from, but a heavy amount of the comments are just people saying how good you look together. 

Your eyes widen and you give Jisoo her phone back, trying to figure out what the right words are. “You’re blushing,” she comments before you get the chance to tell her you’re not dating your best friend. “I’m not,” you argue and she eyes you up and down. “Hm,” she hums as if she just understood your whole. “Have you ever thought about Soobin in a romantic sense?” 

“What? No. He’s my best friend,” you shake your head to refuse but for some reason, the thought flickers in your head. Being with him, going on dates similar to last night, having a partner that knows you like no one else, someone you trust with your life. It’d be nice to have someone who’s already so close to you become something even more. But it’s Soobin you’re thinking about, the same boy who watched you on every step of your childhood since you moved, the same boy who saw all your embarrassing moments and showed you that opposite gender friendships were possible. 

It’s Soobin, the same boy who could never think what you’re thinking about right now, so why does your heart race a bit faster at the image of it? 

“So? That’s not a disease, love,” she reminds you and a part of you questions if she just wants to hear you say you’re in love with your best friends. Unfortunately for her, the answer will be no. You’re not in love with him, even though you’re now stuck with the image of dating him in your head. “I never said it was. I simply never thought about him in that sense.” 

“And are you now?” 

“What?” 

“Are you now thinking about him in that sense?” 

You blink, opening your mouth to protest. No sound comes out and you end up closing it again, which leaves her with a knowing smirk. You scoff, opening your laptop instead as you try to focus on anything else. 

Jisoo doesn’t bring it up anymore, obviously pleased with your answer, or the lack thereof, but that doesn’t mean it just disappears like you wish it would. Throughout the rest of the day, there are a few more girls who come up to you just to ask if you’re dating Soobin and each time, you tell them the same thing. “He’s just my friend, we went out because we live together and no one wanted to cook.” 

Every time you say so, they give you a smirk or giggle in exchange before running off again and you know they don’t believe you. For all know there might be a rumor going around the school already that Soobin, the streamer half of this University watches in their free time, is dating you. 

“No, I’m not dating Choi Soobin, the pictures you’ve seen weren’t from our date,” you sigh automatically when you hear someone clear their throat behind you to get your attention. Your eyes widen when you see Ryan, relief brushing over you. “God, you wouldn’t believe the day that I had.” 

“I’ve heard,” he nods, walking beside you. “I talked to Jisoo earlier, she finds it all amusing.” 

“Of course she does,” you scoff. “She’s been trying to get me to admit my feelings or something.” You tell him about your conversation, leaving out the fact that ever since you found out about it, you’ve been unable to focus on anything other than your best friend. And when you thought about it, you couldn’t even blame them for believing you were together with him. 

“Why don’t you confront him about it?” You frown slightly, fixing your bag strap as it slides off your shoulder. “About what? It’s not like it’s his fault we look like a couple in those pictures.” Ryan shrugs. “Well, that’s true but you could ask him about it, find out what he thinks and all.” 

“No, he’s going to think I’m weird for paying attention to things like that,” you whine, making him roll his eyes at you. “I know you, and I know you’re thinking about him so take a step forward and ask him if he’s thinking about it as well otherwise it’s never going to happen. He’s too big of a coward to say anything.” 

“You don’t make any sense,” you mumble, taking out your keys and unlocking the door when you get to the apartment building. “You say that because apparently I’m the only one with eyes. Do you genuinely not see the way he looks at you?” 

You stop midstep, hitting Ryan with your bag on accident as you turn to face him, blinking confusedly. “What?” He sighs, pushing the door open and taking a step inside when you don’t move. “Just focus on his eyes at dinner,” he says, walking off before you can ask anything else. 

He knows it’s not his place to say anything but honestly, he’s had enough of Soobin’s longing glances you somehow never caught. And if there was the chance you would now look at him the same and he’d have to live watching the two of you pine after each other, he’d much rather just tell you about Soobin’s feelings instead of waiting for him to confess. 

Sitting on your bed with a study sheet opened on your laptop is doing nothing to help you memorize the material and after a few minutes, you end up closing it and giving up. It’s unbelievable how much of an influence just one day can have on your whole thinking. You keep replaying the comments in your head along with Jisoo’s and Ryan’s words. 

And then, before you can stop it, you think about how it’d be like if you did date Soobin. Your gaming leveled up with cuddles, kisses and confessions added to the mornings spent together, dates that leave people feeling jealous because of how great he is to you, the sleepless nights full of need replaced with his comfort, his fingers making you finish faster than your own– 

You quickly shake your head to snap back, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. You were never supposed to think of him that way. 

Making your way out of the room again and almost colliding with Soobin as he tries to go to the bathroom is not ideal since you can’t even look him in the eyes but you hope he doesn’t notice. You’re not ready to explain that you’re avoiding him now because, ever since people started thinking you were dating, you haven’t been able to stop fantasizing about him.

You apologize before running into the kitchen, your eyes screaming for help as soon as Ryan turns to you. He simply laughs and shakes his head, paying attention to the rice he is cooking again. “What? You’ve seen a ghost?” 

“This is all your fault!” You complain. “You messed with my head. You and Jisoo both did.” 

“Oh no, is this the part where you realize he is also a man and has a dick he can use?” Your cheeks turn red but thankfully you can stop before your imagination goes wild. “Shut up! He literally lives here!” You whisper yell at him, checking if he’s still in the bathroom and can’t hear you. “You didn’t deny it,” he points out immediately, turning off the heat. 

“I hate you.” 

“You love me,” he corrects with a smirk, making you roll your eyes. “I’m never speaking to him again and it’s your fault, just so you know.” 

“Who aren’t you talking to?” Soobin’s voice makes you close your eyes in regret. “No one, doesn’t matter,” you brush it off, hoping he’ll leave it at that. To your luck, he walks closer to you instead and eyes you up and down. “Are you okay?” He asks, the worry in his voice hitting you. His eyes look broken as well, something deeper behind them. This all because of you? You swallow, smiling at him as you nod, assuring him it’s all good. 

“The dinner–” you start but Ryan interrupts you by clearing his throat, giving you one stern look. “Is going to take a bit longer and Ryan said he’ll take care of it, so can we talk?” You ask even though every part of your body tells you to do the exact opposite and run away as far as you can from this conversation. Preferably pretend you never got yourself into this situation. 

“Of course,” he nods, glancing at Ryan quickly as if to ask if anything was going on. He just gives him a reassuring smile and encourages for the two of you to leave. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? What’s going on?” 

“Let’s sit down,” you say, shaking your head and following him to his bedroom. You make yourself comfortable on his bed while he sits down on his gaming chair, trying to read through you and see what you’re thinking. He stays silent, giving you all the time you need and simply watching you. That’s when you notice it, the look in his eyes Ryan mentioned. There’s something—something you can’t quite name, that makes you feel at home. You weren’t sure what love looked like but you could imagine it being pretty damn close to what you see in his eyes. 

“The photos from last night are really pretty, I’m still waiting for you to send them over,” you start, carefully observing him. “Right, sorry, I completely forgot,” he apologizes, taking out his phone without any hesitation. Your own rings in your pocket and you assume it’s the pictures. “Thank you,” you mumble, playing with your fingers in your lap awkwardly. “No problem.” 

“We should…do it again. I had fun. It reminded me of a lot of memories,” you keep your eyes down but you can still feel his gaze on you as he tries to read you. You’re sure he sees through you but you can’t bring yourself to actually ask what’s on your mind. “I’ve been listening to the playlist as well, it needs an update.” 

He hums, his eyes never leaving yours. “The Shade, Rex Orange County.” 

“What?” 

“You should add that to our playlist,” he explains. 

“What is it about?” 

“Listen and see,” he smiles warmly and you roll your eyes in disbelief. The room gets quiet again and you bite the inside of your cheek so you won’t say something stupid. He shifts in his place, sighing. “If you tell me what’s bothering you it’ll be a lot easier for me to help.” 

You hesitate before sighing as well. “Do you ever read comments under your posts?” You ask, watching his eyes widen. Yeah, he definitely knows what you’re talking about. “Sometimes, I guess,” he says, trying to sound calm. You hum. “The pictures from yesterday…” you trail off, rethinking your words. “A lot of people asked if we are together, and that we’d look good as a couple. Some people asked me about it today as well,” you admit. 

“The fans get like that,” he mumbles, averting his eyes from you. “They keep trying to find anything about my personal life they can. You don’t need to pay much attention to it. After all, they ship me and Beomgyu as well,” he laughs awkwardly and you catch the slight discomfort in his voice. “It’s just what comes with the job.” 

You listen to him, keeping quiet and taking in his words. Maybe he was right. It was just how fans get, what happens when you decide to put yourself out there for the world to judge, but if what you caught in his eyes was anywhere close to what you thought, you couldn’t just drop it. 

“So you never thought about…us? Together?” You ask quietly, your heart skipping a beat when his eyes lock with yours again and you see the flicker of emotion behind them again. It definitely wasn’t just in your head. Something like an attraction was hiding in his eyes and you felt stupid for not noticing earlier. 

Soobin doesn’t answer right away. You can see his throat bob as he swallows, and his fingers tighten slightly around the hem of his sleeve like he’s bracing himself. “I did,” he admits and for a second you feel like your heart stops beating. “But that’s just stupid, right? It’s nothing, doesn’t mean anything. The fans got into my head and I’m talking nonsense, forget it,” he blurts out so quickly you almost don’t understand anything. 

“Soobin, calm down.” He looks at you, vulnerable, and you fight the urge to get up and swallow him in a breath-taking hug. “I’m not saying it’s…wrong, or stupid.” 

“I’m sorry. Forget about it, really. I’m so, so, so sorry.” A part of you breaks when you see him like this, looking like he convinced himself thinking about you in that sense was wrong, that he wasn’t allowed to. It hurts you to see someone so important to you blame himself for something he doesn’t need to because of you. 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you assure him, slowly getting up from his bed and walking over to him. You kneel in front of him and hold his hands in yours so he keeps his eyes on you. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind if you did think about me that way,” you smile slightly, looking up at him through your lashes. “Maybe I’d like that.” 

His hands squeeze yours without even realizing, his breath shaking as he comprehends your words. He doesn’t say anything, barely even blinks, out of fear that if he moves even just slightly, you’ll disappear and he realizes it’s all just a dream. 

But you stay, holding his hands as if it’s the most normal thing in the world and there’s nothing to worry about. He exhales quietly, finally closing his eyes and allowing himself to feel. The warmth of your hands, your soft voice as you assure him you’re there and real, and the scent of you that he is convinced he can never get enough of. 

“In that case, I think I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve.” 

Dinner was quiet that night. Ryan tried to ask you how it went and if you’re with him now, but you just brushed him off, stealing glances and smiles from Soobin the whole evening. It was a bit awkward and new, but you didn’t mind. Just knowing you weren’t the only one thinking about it was enough for now. 

You decided to watch a movie with Ryan when you were done eating and even though your attention was now on the movie options, you noticed Soobin’s glare before he disappeared back into his room without another word. It made you blink a few times, almost as if to see you weren’t imagining it. When you averted your eyes from the now closed door, Ryan didn’t forget to mention you were blushing. 

And so, you spent the whole night thinking about what was going to happen now. Would anything really change? Honestly, you wanted it to. For some reason, after hearing your best friend has been in love with you for almost as long as you’ve known him, had a bigger impact on you than you thought it would. And after dreaming of holding his hand and kissing him the whole night, you wanted nothing more than to do so in the morning. 

Soobin and Ryan are already in the kitchen when you wake up and make your way over, sharing a warm smile with them and a quiet “good morning.” Ryan answers you first, greeting you before running off to the bathroom, saying something about being late. Bullshit. Still, you let him do whatever he wants and walk closer to Soobin, your smile more cautious now as you try to see where the line lies. 

Soobin looks at you the same, wary but happy. He leans against the kitchen counter, his eyes flickering to where Ryan just disappeared before landing back on you. You raise your eyebrow, stopping in front of him. You hold his hands carefully, searching for any sight of discomfort before you bring his hands to your waist, leaving them there. The emotion behind his eyes switches immediately, now way more calm and soft. “Good morning,” he greets you, squeezing your waist lightly to make sure it’s real. 

“Slept well?” You ask, gently placing your hands on his biceps. “Yeah,” he nods, the nervousness in his voice obvious. You smile, stroking his arm in a reassuring motion. “What were you planning on getting for breakfast? I’m starving.” He quickly blinks before letting his hands fall back to his side when you switch conversation, making you shake your head. You don’t push him though, watching him as he moves around the kitchen to prepare one more toast for you. 

You grab the plate from him with a “thank you,” when he’s done and jump up onto the counter, encouraging him to come closer to you. He listens, standing between your thighs. You put the plate beside you and cup his face, your breath shaking as your eyes flicker from his to his lips. 

“You can touch me, Soob. It’s okay.” His Adam’s apple bobs and he holds your waist again, careful, like he’s afraid to break you. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. “You won’t,” you assure him gently. “I’ve known you for so long there’s no way you could make me uncomfortable with some physical touch. Hug me, hold me,” you lean closer to him, lips brushing over his ear, “kiss me, ask me on dates, do whatever you want, baby.” 

Soobin shivers under your touch, your words messing with his head more than they should. His breath hitches and his grip on your waist tightens to steady himself. The nickname rings in his ears and his neck turns pink, slowly raising his head to look at you. “Can you say it again?” 

Your smile widens and you brush your thumb across his cheek. “Baby?” You tease him, watching his reactions. “Oh, god, who would have guessed you’d get this cute for me?” 

He blushes, trying not to think much about your words. It was embarrassing. “You need to give me time to adjust. I’ve never…you know I haven’t been with anyone before.” Your eyes widen in realization, “because you were in love with me?” 

He nods hesitantly. “I am. Present tense.” Your hands fall to his shoulders, punching him with your fist gently (it’s more like a caress) as your head drops to his shoulder as well, hiding your face from him. “You can’t do this, that’s not fair,” you mumble, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to get yourself to stop blushing. 

Soobin turns his head slightly to look at you, his breathing uneven as he watches you from so up close. It’s a sight he thought he could only dream about. His hand moves from your waist to your lower back, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. It’s partly to calm you down even though he thinks it’s not going to work, but mostly for himself. He needs to feel you under his hand, know that you’re real and this is now his reality. Because, god, does it feel like a dream. 

You raise your head again, gazing into his eyes. You both hesitate and his hand stops mid movement as he looks at you. He gives you a small nod and you lean closer, pressing your lips against his gently. He kisses you back, even though you can feel how much he’s thinking it all through. You smile into the kiss and just that simple motion is enough to calm him down and allow himself to enjoy it, his lips soft against yours. 

When he pulls back, he looks like you’ve just handed him the stars he thought he could never reach. 

You leave the apartment first, rushing to get to your first lesson with the kiss still lingering in the back of your mind, the feeling of his lips against yours vivid. There’s a smile on your face when you get to class and it takes all your strength to make yourself focus on the new material instead of your best friend. 

Jisoo notices the change as soon as she sees you. Obviously. She smirks as her eyes scan you, trying to figure out what it is that’s different. “You look overly happy,” she says and your grin widens. “I am,” you nod. “What’s the occasion?” 

“I may or may not have kissed someone this morning,” you admit and her eyes widen immediately. “Oh my gosh!” She exclaims, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer so others won’t hear your conversation. “It’s Soobin, isn’t it? Please tell me it’s him.” You laugh, nodding, and she squeezes your hand in excitement. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this! I’ve been secretly cheering you two on ever since I saw how he looked at you when we were little.” 

Your eyes widen. “Has everyone always seen it except for me?!” You whisper yell, questioning how you could be so blind for all those years. “Ryan pointed it out as well.” 

“And that’s exactly why I always loved Ryan,” Jisoo giggles. “And? What else? I need to hear everything!” You chuckle, briefly looking around before turning back to her again and telling her about everything. From the way your mind went crazy after she asked you if you’ve ever thought about him in a romantic sense to this point, repeating how cute he is over and over again. 

That’s when you realize the saying “speak of the devil and he shall appear” is very true. Because at the same time, your phone starts ringing, lighting up with Soobin’s contact info and making the flutter in your stomach return. Your eyes soften immediately and you give Jisoo one apologetic look before picking up. 

“Yes?” You ask softly, already smiling. 

“Hi,” his voice is soft even through the phone. 

“What’s up? Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, all good. You’re free for an hour at 12, right?” You blink and nod, for a second forgetting he can’t see you. “I do, I was planning on having lunch then.” 

There’s a short pause but you don’t rush him, calmly waiting for his answer while listening to the faint rustle of movement on his end. 

“Would it be weird if I asked to join you? Wait, no, I mean,” the slight panic in his voice makes you chuckle. He’s cute. “Can I take you out for lunch? Is what I wanted to ask,” he sighs, the relief obvious. 

You bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from smiling like an idiot, briefly glancing at Jisoo. She already has one of her warm smiles on, cheering you on from the side. “Of course you can,” you nod. “That would be great, actually.” 

“Okay, yeah,” he says, voice softening, calm. “What about the restaurant near the library? Yeonjun said that one is pretty good, if you’re okay with that.” 

“Let’s go there,” you agree. There’s another pause, this one comfortable. “Okay,” he repeats, a bit awkward. “I’ll meet you there then?” 

“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll see you there.” 

“You’re so sickening, it’s cute,” Jisoo shakes her head with a laugh. You roll your eyes at her but don’t argue. “I hope it works out for you, genuinely. Soobin is nice and we both know he’d go out of his way to take care of you.” You smile sheepishly, your cheeks turning pink. “Yeah, but I’m still worried to fuck it up,” you admit. “We are best friends, we’ve always been.” 

“And that’s not going to change,” she assures you. “He’ll always be your best friend first, but if you’ll let him, I’m sure he’ll gladly take on the job of your boyfriend as well. You’re not going to ruin anything.” 

You nod, taking in her words. She’s right, you know she is. Deep down you know that no matter what, there was nothing that could make you stop being friends with him, but you were scared nonetheless. You never hesitated when it came to relationships, believing that you were either meant to be or not and there was nothing you could do about it, but with Soobin, you didn’t want to risk the second option. 

Jisoo seems to see right through you because she spends most of your lesson talking to you about how amazing Soobin is (as if you didn’t already know that) and how you were going to be even more inseparable as a couple, wishing you all the luck in the world. It seizes your worries, which you’re thankful to her for. 

The restaurant is quiet to your surprise. You expected it to be messy during lunch hour but even though the place is full, it’s calm and cozy. Your eyes fall on your best friend as soon as you step inside, a smile creeping up your lips as you walk to the table for two. “Hi,” you greet him, taking a seat across from him. He smiles back at you, making your heart race faster. “Hey.” 

“Did you already order something?” You ask, immediately regretting how awkward you sound. Was this how it was going to be with him from now on? “No. Waited for you,” he says, pretending to scan the menu. He doesn’t do too well because you catch his eyes on you, stealing glances as if you were still something he could only dream of. 

“What is it?” You wonder, a smile spreading across your face. You feel like a fresh teen experiencing her first summer romance. Maybe that was what you and Soobin were supposed to be a long time ago—teenagers in love who no one believed would last but they pulled through anyway. You could imagine it. Sharing your first kiss with him, spending all those Christmases together as something more than just friends, going on a bunch of dates and thinking you could never be more in love. 

“You’re pretty,” he says casually, watching as your cheeks turn pink under his words. “You don’t have to say things like that,” you shake your head even though you wish he would tell you a lot more. “I want to. I wanted to tell you so many times over the years but always held myself back. And now that I have the opportunity…I want to tell you as many times as I can.” 

Yeah, Choi Soobin knew how to mess with your heart. 

You feel hotter, knowing your ears must be red now as well. “You…” you swallow the rest of your sentence when your eyes lock with his, every word you’ve ever learnt disappearing from your brain. You were in trouble. You avert your eyes, ignoring the tingly feeling in your stomach and focusing on the menu on the table. 

He doesn’t say anything else, his own heart playing games with him as silence settles over the two of you. He isn’t as secretive with his glances now but still tries to keep them low, not wanting to seem like a creep but unable to help himself. He watches you order, talk about an assignment for one of your classes and a new movie that just came out. He doesn’t hesitate asking you if you want to watch it with him tonight, and you don’t waver with your answer either, saying you’d love to do that. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize suddenly, making him raise his eyebrow in confusion as he sips on his coke. “What for?” 

“Not seeing you sooner.” It hits like a dagger but he still shakes his head, setting the glass down. “That’s not something you can control.” You gaze down onto the table, rethinking your words. “I just… You’ve always been so good to me,” your eyes meet his and his heart shatters when he sees the regret and shame behind them. It wasn’t often that he’d see you be this vulnerable. Of course, there were moments in your life that were worse, and he was there for all of them, but knowing he was the reason for your feelings broke him more than rejection ever could. 

“And I will continue being good to you,” he assures you before you can continue. “I can’t imagine the feeling of… why did you keep liking me? You’ve seen my worst, have been the target of my jokes and I’ve never even looked your way like that, it–” 

“You’re smart, so incredibly smart you learned a new language when you were ten just because you wanted your dad to have the job he always wanted, despite the fact you missed your friends and hometown. You care about people and make them feel welcome around you, always doing your best to be nice to everyone unless they’ve done something. You’re confident, funny, talented, and absolutely beautiful,” he says without any hesitation, his words pure, full of sincerity, and it feels like he heals a part of you you didn’t know was broken. “But most importantly, you bring out the best of me. You make me come out of my shell, you help me when I’m lost, and you never for a second doubt me. I don’t think there’s a reason why I wouldn’t have fallen for you.” 

Your grip tightens around your own glass of soda, his words ringing in your ears over and over again. You couldn’t recall a single time any of your exes would have said anything just remotely close to what he just did. He’s been there all along, so perfect and in love with you, and still, you managed to look through him. 

His hand reaches for yours from across the table, giving it a gentle squeeze so you look up at him. When you do, there’s a smile on his face, the same one you’ve only seen him give you over the years—a smile meant just for you. 

It’s the same smile that makes you realize the past isn’t what’s important right now. It’s the fact you’re here now, on a date with your best friend, finally seeing him. And you plan on making the most out of it. 

Once you both finish eating, it’s only a matter of time before you leave. Soobin offers to pay for your meal and you let him, lacing your fingers with his as you step outside. You don’t need to say more, falling into a soft rhythm as you walk through campus hand in hand. It feels nice. And every little smile exchange makes you look forward to how this is going to continue. 

“Come closer,” you urge, eyeing Soobin up and down as he sits down a full seat over on the couch. He turns his head to face you, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. Still, he listens, moving to sit right beside you, his arm draping around your shoulders when you lean to rest on his side. “What did I tell you? You don’t have to hold back,” you tilt your head slightly to look at him and he nods. “It’ll be better after a few days.” 

It’s a quiet promise that makes you smile. You turn your attention back to the Tv as the first episode of jujutsu kaisen starts playing. After getting back home, you’ve all eaten dinner together and then Ryan disappeared off to his room with his nose basically pressed to his phone. You wanted to question him about it but before you could, Soobin’s hand gently rested around your waist and he asked if you wanted to watch the movie you mentioned earlier. You had no choice but to leave Ryan’s mysteries for another day. 

Once the movie was over and half of the snacks you brought for it were eaten, Soobin begged you to rewatch jujutsu kaisen with him, claiming that it was life changing. You realized at that moment, you can’t say no to him. 

So now, you were stuck by his side, watching a show about a teenager eating fingers instead of going to school. 

“Have you ever thought about the fact you and Beomgyu are like Itadori and Megumi?” You wonder, snacking on a bag of chips while watching the two interact. Soobin raises an eyebrow. “Who am I supposed to be in this incredibly wrong scenario?” He sounds almost offended and you have to sit up because of how oblivious he is. Funny, isn’t it? 

“Megumi, obviously.” 

He scoffs, glancing at the screen. “Megumi is the most boring character there is.” Your eyes widen. Now it’s you who is offended. “He’s my favorite,” there’s a small pout on your lips that makes Soobin close his mouth immediately, slowly regretting ever saying anything. “He reminds me of you.” 

He opens his mouth before shutting it again, realizing there isn’t much to save the situation. Megumi really wasn’t his favorite, but what was he supposed to do when you said you liked him because he reminded you of him? “I’d rather you be Itadori then,” he mumbles. 

Your eyes light up again, a winning smirk spread across your face. You move to lay on him again so you can continue watching, this time resting your head in his lap and occupying the rest of the couch with your legs. He blinks a few times, just watching you for a second before brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, carefully caressing your head and playing with your hair, slowly shifting his attention to the show playing. 

He’s not sure when you manage to fall asleep but when he looks at you to ask about what you think of the fight scene happening, he sees your eyes closed and lips slightly parted, your breathing steady. He smiles, lowering the volume of the Tv before grabbing his phone and sending a quick text to Ryan, asking him to bring a blanket over since he can’t stand up right now. 

“She fell asleep?” Ryan wonders as he comes out of his room, phone in one hand, the other carrying the blanket. Soobin turns his head to face him, nodding. “Yeah. Thanks, I would have gotten it myself but I don’t want to wake her up.”

 “All good,” he shakes his head, lingering a little longer than probably necessary, eyeing the two of you on the couch, simply just happy that this is how you get to spend your evenings from now on. Soobin notices, raising his eyebrow confusedly. “Do you have a problem with anything?” His words come out harsher than expected, making Ryan’s eyes widen. 

“Why would I have a problem with anything?” 

“Don’t know. Maybe you’re jealous,” I would be. He doesn’t finish the sentence, he doesn’t need to because Ryan is already pressing a hand in front of his mouth in order to not wake you up with his laugh. “It looks like you’re the one being jealous,” he laughs, glancing from Soobin to your sleeping form again. He thinks of it as a joke, convinced there’s no way Soobin would actually think he’s being jealous over him, but as his eyes scan his expression, he figures that’s not the case. 

“And you’re completely serious right now,” his eyes widening at the realization. “God, you think we have anything going on between us? I was the one who helped her figure out the possibility of being with you.” 

Soobin doesn’t say anything, just watching him, observing. He doesn’t understand. Ryan was possibly the only other boy who’s seen parts of you you didn’t show to other people, the same parts he fell in love with. He saw you in your prettiest dress and even though Soobin was too gagged to look anywhere but on you, he just assumed Ryan looked at you the same way. Because to him, it was crazy that any boy wouldn’t want you. 

Ryan hesitates for a second, rethinking the whole situation before sighing. “Really, there is absolutely nothing you have to worry about when it comes to us. There’s a better chance of Jisoo getting with her before I do.” Soobin’s expression doesn’t change and so he continues. “Remember my last date?” The question makes Soobin frown, unsure what that has to do with anything. 

“A boy,” he admits, his heart feeling heavier as he puts himself out there. “But I’m not–” his throat tightens when the words come out. Except for you, there was no one else he’s told. No one who he would trust enough to share the information with. “No one else knows so don’t–” 

“I won’t,” Soobin assures him quickly when he catches the change in his tone of voice, his built up jealousy and insecurity slowly fading away as he realizes how incredibly wrong he’s been all along. Of course, that’s why you said it was complicated when he asked if there weren’t a bunch of girls who liked him. He feels stupid. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s…whatever,” he mumbles, suddenly awkward. He needs to get away as soon as possible. “If anything just…text me again, I guess.” Soobin opens his mouth to answer but before he can do so, Ryan is already on his way back to his room, not looking back again. Soobin sighs, running a hand through his hair as he looks down on you. “I’m an idiot, huh?” He mumbles, beginning to play with your hair gently again. “Petty, jealous, idiot.” 

You hum in your sleep, shifting slightly which only makes him chuckle. “Looks like you agree.” 

Your neck hurts when you stir awake. You rub your eyes with the back of your hand, whining quietly. Blinking a few times, you get your eyes to focus again. They widen immediately when you see Soobin’s head resting against the back of the couch, sleeping. You turn to the side, the Tv turned off already and the coffee table just like you left it before falling asleep—full of half eaten snacks and empty bags. You slowly sit up, careful not to wake him up. He looks peaceful, his lips parted, a bit of saliva rolling down his chin. You chuckle. He’s cute. 

You clean up the mess on the table, humming quietly to a song currently playing in your head. You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep for but when you’re done with everything and check your phone, it’s already two am. 

You come back to the couch, gently pressing your hand on Soobin’s shoulder. “Binnie,” you coo softly, watching him hum in his sleep as he shifts slightly. You smile, you never stop smiling when you’re with him. “You should sleep in your bed,” you say, hoping to wake him up. His eyes open for a second but you’re not sure if he even sees you because they close immediately after, his hand finding yours almost on an instinct. You yelp in surprise when he pulls you closer and you fall on to his lap. “Five more minutes,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you. You doubt if he even knows what he’s doing. 

Or maybe he knows exactly what he’s doing. That might be the better scenario. 

“Soobin,” you coo again, kissing his cheek gently. “Let’s go to bed. This can’t be comfortable.” You kiss his nose, then forehead, gently squeezing his shoulder again. This time, it actually works and he opens his eyes, blinking a few times to make sense of the situation. “What’s going…” Before he can finish his question, you place another kiss on his forehead. “Let’s go to bed, it’s late.” 

“Will you stay with me?” He asks, his voice a bit hoarse from the sleep. Your eyes widen in surprise, just for a second, before they soften. You cup his cheek, smiling. “Yeah. Yeah, I will,” you nod. His grip tightens around your waist, his head falling to your shoulder as he inhales your scent. 

If this is how he gets every time he is sleepy, you hope he never gets the rest he deserves. 

“Come on,” you get up, holding his hand as you force him up on his feet as well. His fingers lace with yours, following you tiredly as you guide the way to his room. He accidentally kicks the couch on his way but you don’t say anything, chuckling quietly. 

“I’ll change to my pajamas and will be right back, okay?” You turn to him when you reach his room. He nods slowly, his hand falling back to his side. He opens the door, lingering for a second. “You’ll come, right?” You smile again, assuring him you will before leaving to your own room. 

When you get to Soobin’s room again, he’s sitting on his bed in his pajamas. “Aren’t you tired?” You ask, closing the door behind you. He looks up, extending his arms towards you to come in. “Yeah, but I was waiting for you.” You close the gap between you, standing between his legs as his arms settle on your thighs, fingertips digging into your flesh. He looks up at you and your heart immediately skips a beat. “You’re pretty,” he mumbles, his hand carefully sliding up to the hem of your shorts. You blush at his words, “I didn’t know you were so needy when you’re tired,” you whisper, chuckling. 

He hums, and when his hands move to your ass, you sit on his lap again, running a hand through his hair. “When I told you to be like this earlier you couldn’t even look me in the eyes,” you tease him and he just grumbles. “What is it, baby?” 

“You’re here,” is all he says before kissing your jaw. “I don’t want to hold back when you’re right here.” His words echo in your ears and without a second of hesitation, you kiss him. He leans back with you, his arms resting on your waist as he lays down, his back pressed against the mattress. “Just for the night,” he mumbles in between kisses. “Let me want you a bit more.” 

Your breath shakes as you grind on top of him, looking for any sign of discomfort. A soft, shaky whine escapes his lips and his grip tightens. “Is this okay?” He nods, his eyes closed, refusing to look at you. “Soobin,” you whisper, feeling him harden under you as you grind once more. “Look at me.” 

His eyes flutter open, scanning your face carefully before his gaze drops to where your bodies meet. “Is this okay?” You ask once more, this time getting a proper response. “More than okay,” he assures you, watching you move on top of him. His breathing is anything but steady, his eyes glued to your body as if you’d disappear if he even just as blinked. “I don’t–” his voice breaks in half when you sit directly on his tip, your shorts clinging to your body as you rub yourself on top of him. “I’m not sure what to do.” 

“It’s okay,” you nod, understanding. “You don’t have to do anything. Let’s just feel good, hm?” He nods, his hands carefully sliding up your thighs. He can do that. He can stop overthinking it and just enjoy the moment, as long as he’s with you. 

His hands slowly wander under your shirt, keeping his eyes on you to check if he’s not overstepping as he cups your breast. You bite your bottom lip, nodding slightly to him. You let him squeeze your breast, let him explore what his touch does to you. He watches every reaction, every muffled moan that leaves your lips, and every move of your hips. You never stop rubbing yourself on him and with each passing second, he feels like he is about to explode. 

Leaning down again, you crash your lips with his in a hungry kiss. He doesn’t hesitate kissing you back and pulling you closer, if that’s even possible. He thrusts his hips up on instinct, a soft whimper escaping his lips. “Wai– Wait, fuck,” he curses, looking at his wet pants and your shorts. Mistake, he realizes. Seeing the mess you managed to create already only makes it harder for him not to cum in his pants. 

You slide your hand under his shirt, tracing the line of his abs slowly before moving down to his waistband, glancing up at him for approval. “Please,” he nods, prompting himself up on his elbows as he watches you. You move aside, biting your bottom lip as you give his hard on a squeeze through the pants before pulling them down. Fuck. Soobin was tall, you knew that, of course, but you didn’t expect him to be packing down there so much as well. 

“Have you thought about me before? While jerking off?” You watch his ears turn red, figuring that’s a yes. You squeeze your thighs together, eyes flickering between his cock, abs, and face. In the ideal world, you could ride all of them. “Want to show me?” 

Soobin sits with his eyes glued to your body, his right hand wrapped around his cock, moving up and down in slow motion. You sit opposite him, your legs spread apart, pajama clothes somewhere on the floor, long forgotten by then, and your chest on full display. “What else did you think about?” You ask, watching his eyes scan your naked body. 

His eyes fall down to your fingers on your clit, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I– Your boobs,” he admits slowly, avoiding looking you in the eyes from embarrassment. “Kissing them, holding them, uhm,” he bites down his moan as the image clouds his mind, his cock twitching in his hand and breath shaking. “About how you’d look if…if we were…” 

“Yeah?” You can see that he’s close to finishing, barely able to speak without moaning or whimpering. It was hot. 

“My imagination has nothing on reality,” he mumbles, curses slipping past his lips as he watches you finger yourself, his hips thrusting into his hand with more force than before. You smirk, “that good?” He nods, opening his mouth to say something, but before he can do so, you pull out your fingers and bring them to his mouth. 

He knows he should feel embarrassed. He probably looks like a teenage boy who’s never touched a woman in his life—which he wouldn’t be far from actually—when he reaches his orgasm as soon as his lips wrap around your fingers, but he can’t seem to care. Not when you taste this good, not when you’re looking at him as if it was the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Can I..?” He asks with the biggest puppy eyes possible and even though you don’t know what he’s asking for, you nod. He moves closer to you, spreading your legs more before his hand caresses your thighs, slowly making his way to your core. His fingers replace yours, rubbing your clit the same way he watched you do so moments ago. You moan under his touch, guiding his hand lower and giving him a reassuring nod before he inserts two of his fingers into your hole. His fingers are longer than yours, without a doubt, and it shows. “Just like that, fuck, exactly there,” your eyes roll back when he hits your spot, listening to your moans as he pumps his fingers into you. 

Soobin closes the distance between you, his free hand cupping your cheek as he kisses you again while his other hand brings you to your orgasm, muffling every one of your moans with his lips. “Was that okay?” He asks, the nervousness in his voice obvious. You giggle, your breathing heavy as you press your forehead to his. “You’re doing amazing,” you nod. “Absolutely fucking amazing.” 

He giggles with you, exhaling in relief. He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and kisses you again, this time with less need but much more affection, hoping you can feel all the years he’s spent loving you from afar coming up on the surface. 

The following days became easier. You watched the nervousness and wariness in his eyes slowly change into something comfortable and familiar. He stopped being so hesitant, greeting you with a kiss every morning as if you were an old couple, holding your hand when you walked around campus, and taking you out on dates any chance he got. It was nice, and you could feel your heart skipping a beat every time his gaze lingered on you even a second longer than necessary. 

You could see yourself growing old with those eyes. 

“What are you hiding?” Soobin comes into the kitchen just as you’re leaning over the counter, a teasing grin on your face and Ryan a few steps beside you, smiling at his phone. He could recognize that smile from miles away, it was the same one he had for years on his face when he talked to you. 

“I’m not hiding anything,” he says, way too quickly to your liking. “You’re trying to see things where they’re not.” 

“What’s going on?” Soobin asks, wrapping his arm around your waist. You straighten your back and he immediately rests his head on your shoulder, watching Ryan with a spark of curiosity. His eyes flicker between the two of you, hating that it was so easy for you to see right through him. “Nothing’s going on, alright? Can’t I text people?” 

You frown. “I never said you can’t. But you’ve been texting someone for ages and it makes me wonder why you haven’t told me anything about it.” Soobin can almost hear the pout in your voice and places a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Because I told you I’m not dating again. It’s just a friend, and I don’t see a reason why I should tell you I have a new friend.” 

“You don’t have to close yourself off for everyone because one date didn’t go right,” Soobin meets his eyes and Ryan swallows everything he wanted to say when he hits a soft spot. This was nowhere close to how he wanted his evening to look like. “Didn’t you say you were going to stream tonight?” The question comes out harsher than intended but before he can apologize, Soobin nods slightly. “Yeah, I am,” he agrees, giving Ryan one last look of sympathy before turning to you. “Want to join me?” 

You blink, glancing between your two roommates. You want to stay, ask Ryan more and assure him that whatever he set his mind on is stupid, but you can see how tired he is of this conversation. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore and you know when to stop minding other people’s business, even if they’re your best friend. “Yeah, sure, let’s go,” you nod. Soobin catches the sigh that leaves your lips but doesn’t comment on it, lacing his fingers with yours instead and leading you to his room. 

“You can’t be mad at him for keeping in,” Soobin says, sitting down on his gaming chair and extending his arms for you to come in. You hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you stand between his legs. “I know, and I’m not. I just… I don’t want him to deal with everything on his own.” His hands slide up the back of your thighs, a pitiful smile on his lips. 

“I’ll talk to him later, okay? Maybe he’ll tell me something,” he offers, bringing your hand to his face and kissing your knuckles. “Don’t beat yourself over it. He’ll tell you about it when he’s ready.” 

You nod, sitting on his lap with your hands on his shoulder. “Have I told you you’re absolutely amazing yet?” He chuckles, closing the space between you and pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. “You can tell me that as many times you want,” he smiles into the kiss, a soft giggle escaping your lips. 

“What’s the plan tonight?” You wonder when you pull back. He turns on the chair, his arm wrapped around your waist as he turns his PC on. When he types in his password and you notice it being your birthday, you can’t help but smile, your cheeks turning pink as you lean into his chest. “Phasmophobia,” he says, showing you the game. You watch his screen as he explains some of the rules of the game with the gameplay, nodding quietly. You let him talk, listening to his every word. It’s honestly attractive. It’s not like he’s doing much, but it’s enough. 

“Yeonjun hasn’t played it yet and we were thinking of texting Kai to join us but if you want, we can connect your laptop and you could play with us instead?” He turns his head to you, his face mare inches away from yours. You blink, shaking your head, “you said you haven’t played with Kai in a long time, you shouldn’t exclude him just because of me.” 

“I want to play with you,” he states firmly. “You should know by now I’d choose you over the boys any time.” If you were blushing before, you must look like a tomato right now. Before he can say anything else and send you into a spiral, you kiss him again, your hand on his neck as you pull him close. He doesn’t take long to catch up, pushing his tongue between your lips and deepening the kiss, his fingers digging into your waist. “You’re too good to me,” you whisper. 

“You’re the one too good to me. I’m just treating you as anyone you’ve ever given a chance to should have.” 

“You should be a poet instead,” you mumble, averting your gaze from him. You know he’s about to say something more, but he’s interrupted by an incoming call on discord, the screen flashing with The Choi’s group chat. Thank God, honestly. Whatever he wanted to say would probably make your heart race faster than it already does and you don’t need a heart attack right now. 

You accept the call, the first thing you hear being Beomgyu’s grumble. “We’ll have to use walkie talkies in the game, why are we starting a call here?” Soobin chuckles quietly, leaning forward and resting his chin on your shoulder, clicking through something on his screen. “He’s new to the game, cut him some slack,” he says and you catch a faint curse on the other side, assuming it must be from Yeonjun. 

“Whatever, who cares. Is everyone ready now? Can I text Kai? He might be asleep though, he said something about pulling an all-nighter the night before and feeling like passing out when I talked to him earlier.” As soon as Yeonjun finishes his question, Soobin turns his head to look at you again, looking for an answer in your eyes. You nod slightly, his smile widening immediately. 

“Don’t bother. I have our fourth player. She’s sitting on my lap as we speak.” 

It wasn’t a secret to any of your friends that you and Soobin were something now. Apparently, they knew so even before you did. Soobin looked terrified when Beomgyu told you a few days ago that he’s glad he finally had the balls to ask you out because it was getting annoying having to listen to him enthuse about how in love with you he was. All you could do at the moment was laugh. Then, after Beomgyu left, you showered Soobin in kisses on his bed and he promised to tell you how in love he is more often if that’s what he gets in return. He was adorable. 

The two boys greet you immediately, asking about how your day was and if Soobin is being annoying. It makes you chuckle because he is anything but. You talk with them for a bit, Soobin’s hands still wrapped around you and hugging you tightly. You love moments like these. 

You’re not sure how much time passes but eventually, you leave to get your laptop while Soobin prepares his stream, his camera and microphone already on when you come back. You place the laptop on his bed—which is also the place you agreed on sitting before even though it wasn’t exactly ideal to be in the same room while using walkie talkies—and join his side, greeting his chat with a smile. 

In the blink of an eye, the comments change from simple hello’s and questions about what the plane for today is into more personal ones—mostly about your relationship. A few people ask about your name, new fans you assume, but most of the people are asking if the rumors are true and you truly are dating. It was kind of obvious by now. Just a few days earlier, Soobin made a new post on his instagram with pictures from an actual date you had. They were cute, and made it into your highlights as well. 

He turns his head to you, not answering any of their questions. A sign of the same vulnerability you saw almost every day at the beginning flickers in his eyes, the question hanging in the air. You know which one made him like this. Are you two dating? You haven’t put a label on anything, didn’t think it was needed, but when your eyes meet his, and you see the hope in them, you want a label more than ever before. 

You smile, a gentle, soft one that always makes him calmer and turn towards the camera. “You got us,” you nod. “We are dating. But no, he does not fall into the streamer stereotypes and does shower every day, so I’m not in any danger,” you laugh, briefly glancing at Soobin. He looks puzzled, but his expression lasts less than a second, immediately being replaced with excitement and a hint of relief. 

“Wouldn’t want to stink near my beautiful girlfriend,” he grins and you have to roll your eyes at how cheeky he sounds. You shake your head at him, but the smile on your face never disappears. “Get your game ready, pretty boy. I don’t have the whole night for you.” He cocks his head to you, a teasing smirk on his face as he mouths “you sure?” at you. You fight the urge to throw a pillow at him. 

“What on Earth are they doing?” You laugh, watching Beomgyu and Yeonjun move their characters in the lobby, getting into some weird positions they definitely wouldn’t be able to recreate in real life. Soobin laughs with you, shaking his head. He was playing around with settings now, trying to convince you to go on pro mode. Neither Yeonjun nor you knew if that was something you wanted to jump into but thankfully (or possibly unfortunately) you had Beomgyu on your side, arguing with Soobin immediately that you weren’t ready and it would end up with him being alive alone again. 

“Everyone get ready,” Soobin commands, your earlier laugh replaced with a chuckle immediately. “Yes, captain,” you joke, and even though you see him rolling his eyes, you also notice the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. 

Soobin helps you out during the game a lot, always walking around beside you so you don’t stay anywhere alone and don’t get yourself killed, reminding you what certain keys do, and working with you on figuring out what kind of a ghost you’re dealing with. Anyone new joining his stream probably doesn’t even know Beomgyu and Yeonjun are in the game as well. You barely know of their presence yourself. 

After three successful rounds, Soobin finally convinced you to play on pro mode, still staying by your side as he ran around, trying to figure out the ghost’s spawn place. Yeonjun walked right behind you, holding a camera in his hands while Beomgyu stayed in the van, laughing his ass off as he watched you through Yeonjun’s camera. It slowly turned into Soobin continuously telling him to do something and him arguing that you had it all covered already. It had Soobin grumbling and his chat laughing. 

You played for two hours and half until Beomgyu had to leave—a date as Soobin informed you earlier—and you all decided to call it a day. You stretch out on the bed, pushing the heating laptop off your legs. Soobin leans back in his chair once his computer is turned off, turning to face you. “Had fun tonight?” 

You smile, nodding. You open your arms and he doesn’t hesitate getting up from his place and making his way over to you, plopping down on top of you. You giggle, bringing him down to kiss him. “So much fun,” you answer, wrapping your arms behind his neck. 

“You were so pretty,” he praises, placing a soft kiss to your nose. “I wanted to kiss you every time you gave me that clueless pout,” he whispers, this time leaving a kiss on your cheek. You giggle, cupping his cheeks and making him look at you. “Kiss me twice as much now then.” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice, already claiming your lips. He wraps his hands behind your back, keeping you as close as possible until he decides to change positions, his lips never leaving yours as he sits down and helps you onto his lap. His hand moves up to your neck, thumb brushing your cheek as he deepens the kiss. He could go like this all day if he could. 

You run a hand through his hair, forcing him to pull back when you tug at a few of his strands. He groans, eyes meeting yours. You bite back a moan yourself when you look at him, every sane thought you had until now disappearing out of the window when he looks up at you like that. “Love,” he whispers, his hands trailing down your sides until he makes it under your shirt. “Yes, baby?” You smile innocently, pretending that his touch doesn’t send shivers throughout your whole body. 

“You’re beautiful.” You learnt to accept his compliments after some time (because you’re not sure if there has been a day in which he wouldn’t compliment you in some way) but they still worked on you every time, making you blush. His hands move to your back again, unclipping your bra with ease. You help him get your shirt off, your bra following right after. He smiles, one of his hands cupping your breast and rolling your nipple between his fingers while the other settles on your waist. You can’t even blink before his mouth meets your other boob, his tongue circling your nipple. 

You run your hand through his hair again, a soft whine escaping your lips as you grind on him from the pleasure. He glances at you briefly, and when he sees your eyes closed, the moans that leave your lips showing him just how much you’re enjoying yourself, he sucks harder, taking his sweet time with each of your breasts. 

“Baby,” you whine, rolling your hips against his. He finally pulls away, meeting your eyes with a playful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Please.” 

Your back presses against the mattress, your boyfriend hovering on top of you and kissing his way down your body. Once his mouth reaches your pants, he tugs them down slowly, kissing your inner thigh. You open your legs for him without hesitation, causing a groan to leave his lips. He settles himself between your legs, kissing his way up from your thigh to your clit. “Just a small taste,” he begs, sucking on your clit the same way he sucked on your nipple moments ago. 

It’s been days of exploring each other’s bodies, finding out what pleasures the other and what doesn’t. It took some time, but he’d like to say he knows how to get you off without any problems now, one of those things being your newly discovered obsession with riding his nose. 

And what kind of a boyfriend would he be if he didn’t give you the opportunity to do so? 

Soobin presses his nose against your clit, his tongue pushing past your folds. Your moans fill the room shortly after, even if you try to keep it down so as not to disturb your roommate, gripping the sheets on your side. You roll your hips against him, your eyes rolling back when his tongue enters your hole. As if that wasn’t enough on its own, his fingers dig into your thighs, keeping you where he wants so he controls all of your pleasure. 

“Wa–Wait,” you gasp, your orgasm building in your stomach faster than you can comprehend. He simply hums against you, not bothering with looking up as he licks you. “So pretty,” he mumbles again, sucking on your clit. You gasp, finding his hair with your fingers and trying to tug him away from you, your legs closing simultaneously. 

Fortunately, he only pulls back once you reach your orgasm, finishing on his mouth. He licks his lips clean, smiling. “You,” your breath catches and you’re not even sure what you want to say. Did so fucking good? Were absolutely amazing? Take better care of me than anyone else? 

“It’s okay,” he coos, coming up to kiss you. He brushes your hair from your face gently, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “You can do one more, right?” You don’t answer, you can’t. All you can think about is, where did you even learn all that? 

But you know the answer. From you. Everything he knows, he’s learnt from you, because he wanted to. He learnt how to talk, when the right time to kiss you is, where to press at times, and how to be a good mix of someone who could—and wanted—to please you, and the same person he was before who didn’t even know a handful of positions. 

His thumb gently circles your clit, causing a few whines to leave your lips. He keeps his eyes on you, waiting for your answer. Even though you told him before it was okay to overstimulate you sometimes, he didn’t need to do so. He was glad he could make you feel good, even if it means having to take care of his throbbing cock alone in the bathroom. 

But you wouldn’t let that happen, slowly nodding. “Yeah,” you breathe out. “I can take one more.” He smiles, pressing another kiss to your lips before getting his clothes off, too busy admiring your naked body to look where they ended up after he threw them to the floor. 

Soobin rubs his cock between your folds, his eyes glued to your body. “Wanna go raw?” you offer and his eyes immediately widen. He has condoms, somewhere in his top drawer of his desk, but at the moment, he completely forgot about something like protection, his mind too occupied with different thoughts. “Can I?” He looks up and you smile, nodding. 

“Fuck,” he curses, aligning himself slowly. He looks up once more for reassurance and when you chuckle, telling him it’s okay, he thrusts his tip in, giving you some time to adjust before he slaps his hips with yours. You gasp immediately, your moans coming out broken as he starts moving. 

Soobin’s soft praises mixed with his groans fill your ears, your eyes rolling back as his fingers lace with yours and he slows down again, hitting just the right spot. At that moment, even though your head is empty, one singular thought manages to pop up. I love you, Soobin.  

You don’t say anything though, holding his hand with your mouth wide open and head thrown back. Yeah, he is good. 

His thrusts turn sloppy, his energy slowly dying out as he reaches his climax. You came just seconds ago with his name falling from your lips as if you were a broken record and now it was finally his turn. You wrap your legs behind his back, keeping him in place and making sure he doesn’t even think about pulling out. You need to feel him filling you up, showing you you’re his. And he’ll gladly do so. 

“Shit,” he gasps, squeezing your hand tighter as he finishes, his eyes wide. “Fuck– That was so good.” You giggle, relaxing your legs again and trying to catch your breath. He curses again when he pulls out of you and hears you whine, fighting himself not to get hard again. He lays down beside you, dropping his arm around your stomach and pulling you flush against his body. 

“I love you,” he mumbles, just like he has many times before. But this time, it’s different after all. Because this time, you can say it back. 

“I love you too, baby,” you whisper, sealing the words with a kiss.

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @love-be0m @virgo-and-libra @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @minaateez @bamgeutsz @lovingbeomgyudayone @definitelynotherr @hyunj00 @saejinniestar @dawngyu @xylatox @thetxtdevil @biteyoubiteme @heesmiles @t-102 @jellyyjn @feet4liferss @soobinieswife @yunxiang0524 @xodidarks @jellyyjn @bunniwords @cocoalmond @tteokbunni @chaotic-floral @fancypeacepersona @beomgyusluver @ros1eluvsbinnie ✶⋆

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[zznblr]

love language

ʚ♡⃛ɞ txt as the five love languages ୨୧ txt x fem!/gn!reader • established relationship • kinda of suggestive for kai and soobin • something cutie to celebrate love language release and also to tide the exes and ohs readers until the next part >< reblogs n comments appreciated :)

soobin - words of affirmation

yeonjun - gift giving

beomgyu - quality time

taehyun - acts of service

kai - physical touch

[ev3rm0re-q]

everything i didn't say ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆

synopsis: This camping trip was supposed to be a relaxing getaway—just a few days in the woods, swapping scary ghost stories, roasting s'mores by the campfire, maybe even squeezing in some late-night cabin sleepovers. It all sounded so perfect, right? Wrong.

Y/N ends up stuck sharing a cabin with the one person she can't stand. Fucking Choi Soobin—the guy who spent all of high school turning every assignment and exam into some stupid competition to see who's the smartest, who flashed his cocky, infuriating smirk when he beat her at their in-school debate competition she'd spent countless nights preparing for. The same guy who gave her every reason to believe he felt something for her, who blurred all the lines during their senior project—only to ghost her like none of it ever meant a thing. This has to be some kind of joke, right?

pairing: ex-academic rival!soobin x fem!reader

genre: enemies-to-lovers trope, ex-academic rivals to lovers, only one bed trope, forced proximity, angst romance filled with tension, college AU-ish, unresolved feelings

warning/s: lots of swearing, suggestive-ish

wc: 10.1K

September 2017

It had been three hours since I lugged all my stuff into Soobin’s house—project printouts, art supplies, notebooks, and my heavy-ass laptop—all piled into a chaotic mess around me.

The clock on his study desk ticked past 10 PM. I sat cross-legged on a cushion on the bedroom floor, leaning against a small wooden table, surrounded by scattered papers. Some notes were marked up with pink highlighter, others crumpled or stuck with colorful post-its.

Even the little doodles Soobin had drawn on the post-its were pinned around the table here and there, giving the chaos a strange kind of charm.

Our laptops sat perpendicular to each other, their screens casting a soft glow across the clutter. I tapped my red pen lightly against the table, eyes skimming the printed script beside me—covered in scribbles, arrows, and margin notes I could barely even read anymore.

The words were starting to blur together, familiar in that way things get when you’ve stared at them too long.

“Your part on slide nine feels a little rushed.” I said, after a stretch of quiet.

To my right, Soobin sat on a cushion of his own, sleeves of his hoodie pushed up, glasses reflecting the glow of his screen as his eyes flicked over the same PowerPoint slide.

His expression was calm—too calm for someone who was going to have his final presentation the next morning. Then he stretched, arms reaching overhead as he let out a quiet yawn, eyes half-lidded but still focused.

“You were talking too fast in other parts too,” I reminded him, not even looking up.

He let out a quiet groan. “You’ve timed me, what, three times already?”

“I’m just saying,” I replied. “You’re hitting the marks, yeah—but you’re hitting them like a robot.”

He turned to me with a raised brow. “The script’s too long for me not to talk fast, you know.”

“You’re basically rapping through the script, Soobin,” I gave him an unimpressed look.

“I read it aloud earlier. The timing was just right—You’re just the one who keeps starting the timer too early." He argued.

I raised a brow, unimpressed. “I’m not early on anything. You always leave a few seconds on the timer.”

His eyes found mine—and stayed there, just a second too long.

“So,” he said slowly, “you want me to slow down, then?”

“Just this part,” I murmured, pointing to a line with the tip of my pen. He leaned in slowly, just enough for his shoulder to brush mine, eyes following the point of my pen.

I glanced at him without thinking. His hair hung messily over his forehead, brushing the tops of his glasses. He was fiddling with the end of his hoodie string again, fingers curling around it before slipping it between his teeth, chewing on it like he didn’t even notice. All of a sudden, I realized how close our faces had gotten.

“Where?” he asked quietly, the words slightly muffled, the hoodie string still tugged between his lips.

“H-here…” I managed, barely above a whisper. I pointed with my pen to the line he needed to read. He leaned in even closer, eyes narrowing in on the script.

I instinctively pulled back, creating space between us as casually as I could manage, eyes flicking to my laptop screen like it suddenly demanded all of my attention. But I could still feel the heat blooming across my cheeks, spreading too fast to ignore.

“Yeah, these notes are good,” he said after a moment, voice quieter than before. I glanced sideways, then down at the hoodie string still hanging from his mouth.

“Do you really have to chew on that?” I asked, raising a brow, trying for playful but landing somewhere between disbelief and mild concern.

I fiddled with the cap of my pen, letting the soft sound fill the space between us as my other hand hovered over my keyboard, feigning concentration. Instead of snapping back like I expected, he paused.

His eyes flicked toward mine as he slowly let the hoodie string slip from his mouth, the fabric falling softly against his chest. For a moment, he just looked at me—head tilted slightly, like he was trying to piece something together.Then came the smallest twitch of a smile.

“You always pick the smallest fights with me when you’re nervous,” he said, voice low and even.

Not teasing—just stating it, like it was something he’d known for a while. My pen stilled mid-air.

“I’m not nervous,” I muttered, eyes fixed on my screen.

There was a pause. Then, softer, "You are. But it's okay... I'm nervous about it too."

That made me glance at him, and this time, I didn't look away. He leaned back slightly, posture relaxed, like he’d peeled something back—something he didn’t usually let show.

Oh. He was talking about the presentation.

Right.

But there was something in the way he said it. Gentle. Almost like a secret passed between us. It landed in my chest like a held breath I didn’t know I was keeping.

“I’m fine,” I assured him, trying to shake off the weird flutter in my chest.

I turned back to my laptop, leaving my pen resting on the script as I switched to the PowerPoint tab, brows furrowing while I scrolled through the slides for what felt like the hundredth time tonight.

"You’re overthinking again,” Soobin said, voice low and teasing.

I didn’t look at him. “Says the guy who helped me color-code our outline and triple-checked our citations.”

“Yeah, but I hide it better,” he replied, the smirk already audible in his tone.

“I just don’t want it to suck,” I sighed.

He let out a soft laugh. “It doesn’t. We’re fine.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

He smiled—genuine this time—and reached across the table to tug my notebook toward him. Our fingers brushed for a moment. Just a graze. Nothing major. But neither of us pulled away right away.

“I don’t get why you stress so much,” he said softly, leaning forward to jot a quick note on the script with my pen.

“You always make everything better.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He handed the pen back without looking away. “The slides. The project. You just… care more than anyone else I’ve worked with.”

It wasn’t exactly a compliment.

Not really.

But it made something twist inside me anyway.

I looked at him—really looked at him. The way his hair fell into his eyes, the way he always tilted his head when he was thinking, the subtle twitch of a smile he tried to hide whenever I got too worked up over formatting.

He was calm. Too calm. Like he wasn’t falling apart inside the way I was. I swallowed the bitterness tightening in my chest.

"You're weirdly nice when you're tired," I muttered, pretending to fix something on the PowerPoint.

“I’m always nice,” he shot back.

I gave him a skeptical look.

“Okay,” he laughed softly. “Sometimes.”

“You know,” I started, before I could catch myself,

“you’re really hard to read sometimes.”

He blinked, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Some moments you’re open—easy to talk to. But then other times, I can’t figure out what you’re thinking at all.”

The room fell silent. He blinked slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully.

“So are you,” he replied, voice quieter now.

“But I try.”

My heart did a stupid flip in my chest.

“Try what?”

He looked at me again, eyes steady. “To make it obvious.”

Then, it hit me,—all the signs I’d buried, the little things I brushed off as me being dramatic or reading too much into nothing.

Every look, every touch, every word.

My mouth went dry.

What the fuck was he trying to say?

I wanted to ask—God, I wanted to ask—but the pounding in my chest felt deafening, like my heart was trying to drown out the moment.

Oh my god, what if he can hear it too? I wondered.

So I said nothing.

I just stared at him, caught in the pull of it all—panic curling at the edges of my thoughts as hope blooms rapidly in my chest, confusion wrapping around it like a knot I couldn’t untangle.

“I—I…” I faltered, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Before I could think to move, he leaned in, eyes locked on mine. His hand rose slowly—hesitant at first—then steadier as his fingers reached for a loose strand of hair near my cheek.

He brushed it back behind my ear, his fingertips grazing my skin with a softness that sent a chill down my spine. But he didn’t pull away.

His hand lingered near my face, close enough that I could feel his warmth, close enough to see the subtle shift in his expression—something careful, something unreadable, something that made my throat go dry. Neither of us said a word.

His words from earlier hung between us like an unfinished sentence suspended in the air, and I was too afraid that if I spoke now, it would all collapse—too real, too raw.

We’d had moments like this before. Subtle ones. The kind that slipped by unspoken, but never unnoticed. Lingering glances in the hallway, the way his hand brushed mine when he passed notes, how his voice always softened when he would call me over to him.

But this? This felt louder. Closer.

"Y/N… I—" he began, voice low, hesitant.

But then, right on cue, his phone buzzed sharply beside us—the alarm he’d set earlier cutting through the quiet like a crack of thunder.

He flinched. So did I.

The moment shattered.

He moved quickly, fumbling for his phone on the floor beside him. The sound cut off with a single tap, but the silence it left behind was deafening. For a moment, he didn’t look at me. His gaze stayed fixed on the now-dark screen, jaw tight.

Then, voice quieter this time—measured, distant—he said,

“You should probably head back.”

My heart dropped.

He still wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Big day tomorrow,” he added, like that explained everything.

“Right…” I murmured. “Big day.”

I nodded, slowly gathering my things. Papers, pens, laptop. Anything to keep my hands busy, to ignore the weight in my chest. He reached toward my notebook beside me, the same one he’d quietly asked to borrow earlier, but his hand paused halfway—as if hesitating—before he finally picked it up.

He stood too, tidying what was left on the table with methodical care. Like if we didn’t speak on it, whatever almost happened would just fold neatly into the mess of crumpled drafts and unfinished thoughts.

Maybe that was safer.

Maybe that was us.

Almost. Always fucking almost.

I left his room without a word, not even sparing him a glance, as the quiet between us was left hanging heavier than ever.

The next morning, it was raining—a steady drizzle that blurred the campus edges and made the air feel thick with calm. He acted like nothing had ever happened.

He greeted me with that same soft smile he always wore before a presentation, handing me a printed copy of our outline. He even cracked a quiet joke about how I’d probably end up rewriting his part mid-way if I got too nervous.

But just like he said the night before—we nailed it.

The presentation went smoothly—clean, confident, every line delivered exactly as we’d rehearsed. Our professor smiled in satisfaction, expecting nothing less than perfection from us.

Our friends gave us friendly pats on the back, and compliments were thrown around—“Whoa, you guys did such a great job!” They stood by us, sharing the buzz of relief like teammates crossing a finish line.

But afterward?

Fucking nothing.

After school that day, it was like something snapped shut. No texts. No awkward small talk in the hallway.

Not even a stupid silly face thrown at me when the professor announced Soobin had gotten the highest score on our English exam.

Nothing.

He stopped showing up where I used to find him—in the library, the park, even the convenience store where we always bumped into each other.

He just stopped replying. Stopped being there.

It was like I’d never mattered beyond that stupid project. And just like that, he was gone—leaving me tangled in everything I didn’t understand.

June 2019

Two years have passed since everything between us quietly fell apart—the electric connection replaced by a silence thick enough to fill a room.

In that time, everything changed. We went from playful teasing and personal competitions to exchanging little more than sharp looks and truly hurtful remarks. It’s not like we don’t cross paths—our worlds still overlap—but somehow, it’s like we don’t really exist to each other anymore.

Standing here now, I can feel the distance—not just the space between us, but all the things left unsaid, the moments we should’ve shared but didn’t, and the memories that don’t feel warm anymore.

The rain falls in a steady downpour, tapping rhythmically against the wooden porch roof where we stand. The ground grows muddier by the second, as the trees and plants eagerly soak up the long-awaited water they craved. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and pine as tall forest trees towering above us, casting shadows over the clearing.

"I can't believe I managed to get stuck with you," I mutter, groaning at the sight of the tall, raven-haired boy in front of me.

His head is bowed, fingers gliding across his phone screen with quiet concentration.

He doesn’t even look up. "Trust me, the feeling’s mutual."

I roll my eyes at his comment, letting my bag and umbrella drop against the wall with a heavy thump. Digging my hands into my pockets, I glance back at Soobin.

"Do you have the key?"

He sighs annoyingly at the question before reaching into his right pocket, and silently holds out the key to me. I shoot him a pointed look before taking it from his hand and unlocking the door.

It swings open to reveal a small but cozy cabin bedroom—just enough space for two. I step inside with Soobin, opening the door to the only bathroom near the entrance and nodding in satisfaction at the sight. Behind me, I hear him move forward to inspect the rest of the room, followed by the faint sound of a complaint.

"This is a joke, right?" I hear him say.

I step out of the bathroom and find him standing in front of the queen-sized bed, staring at it like it personally offended him. He looks back at me with a disbelief expression. I shrug, casually leaning against the doorframe.

“It was the cheaper option. They were gonna charge way more if we booked each room with double single beds.” He exhales sharply, running a hand down his face. I nod toward the floor.

"The floor's always open, if you want. Though I think the racoon I saw outside might appreciate some company too."

"Haha, funny," he deadpans.

I drop my bag at the foot of the bed and sink down onto the mattress with a sigh, my mind drifting to the conversation I had with Beomgyu earlier today.

“Come on, can’t you switch with me, Gyu? You guys were roommates before, right?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Beomgyu said, tone apologetic but firm. “but I already talked to Kai earlier. I promised I’d play Cookie Run with him when we got to the room—he’s pretty excited to have me as his roommate.” I stared at him for a second, hoping he would change his mind. He didn't.

I exhale sharply, jaw tight. Of course this shit would happen.

This whole arrangement happened because someone thought it'd be a genius idea to assign roommates by picking straws—completely random, they said. An equal chance for everyone, they said. I rolled my eyes at the thought.

Yeah. Sure.

I had only agreed because, honestly, I mean what are the odds that I'd end up with Choi Soobin? The same boy who’s spent every semester of high school trying to one-up me on test scores and presentations.

The one who ran against me for class representative and won by just a few votes—probably thanks to his crowd of fangirls who couldn’t stop staring at him in class.

The boy kept sending me mixed signals the entire time we worked together on that final major project, only to shut me out right after without a single word.

It was a miracle we were even caught in the same room. Despite having mutual friends and going to the same university, our paths rarely crossed—only seeing each other at social events or the occasional group hangout.

Of course, only Yunjin knew about the mixed signals part. She was the only person I trusted enough to vent to—the poor girl was forced to sit through rants over lunch about how confusing and frustrating he was. But, unbeknownst to me, that same 'poor girl' was actually in on a plan—one orchestrated by none other than Choi Yeonjun himself.

Everyone was in on it except for Soobin and me.

The plan? To finally put an end to all the bickering, snarky remarks, and this endless tension between us.

I remember hearing Yeonjun calling from the living room earlier, telling everyone we’d be picking straws to decide who’d room with whom. Meanwhile, I was in my bedroom, too busy stuffing one last hoodie into my already full backpack.

There were two sets of colored straws—each set pairing two people together.

Taehyun managed to distract Soobin with some 'new workout tip' he was eager to share, flashing his phone in front of him. Soobin's eyes were glued to the screen, interested at this new advice his friend had given him, that he carelessly grabbed a random colored straw from Yeonjun's hand without even sparing a glance at it.

When Soobin held it up, the two boys exchanged a knowing glance. Soobin got the orange straw.

Taehyun gave Yeonjun a slight nod, and Yeonjun then strolled over to the others, quietly whispering which colors to pick to avoid the dreaded orange. Finally, Yeonjun made his way over to me, one last straw pinched between his fingers.

"You're the last one, Y/N. Orange was the only one that was left," he said, holding it out.

"Oh, that's fine. I think the orange is pretty cute anyway," I shrugged, more relieved to be done forcefully shoving that hoodie into my already overflowing backpack than anything else.

He grinned, eyes flicking to the straw in my hand. "Yeah? I think it suits you."

I flashed a quick smile in return. "Thanks, I've always wanted to match with a traffic cone."

Yeonjun chuckled under his breath and nodded toward the living room.

"C’mon, let’s see who fate paired you up with."

I slung my bag over my shoulder and followed him down the hall, completely unaware of the setup I had just walked straight into. We stepped into the living room. Everyone is raising their straws in the air, scanning the room for their partners, and others already finding theirs.

I couldn't help but smile at the sight, catching the moment Yunjin excitedly rushed over to Nari. They shrieked and jumped together with joy as they realized they both pulled the green straws.

On the couch, Beomgyu and Kai compared their blue straws, already deep in conversation about some game Kai insisted on playing in the cabin tonight. Yeonjun scanned the room before casually walking over to Taehyun. He lifted his red straw with a knowing grin before exchanging a 'bro' handshake with him.

Then it hit me. Oh fuck, no.

Then that means... I slowly turned my head, already dreading what I know I would see.

And there he was—Choi Soobin, standing a few feet away with the same orange straw in hand, staring straight at me.

I fucking hate orange.

My phone dings, and I glance down to see a text from Yunjin and Yeonjun.

Yunjin: Sorry about the roommate situation again, babe. Wish it could’ve been the three of us here. We miss you <3 sent at 20:17 pm.

Me: It's okay, it wasn't your fault. Miss you guys too! sent at 20:18 pm.

Yunjin: Think you’ll survive? sent at 20:18 pm.

Me: Yeah, just hoping I make it through the night and the rest of the trip without committing a felony sent at 20:19 pm.

Yunjin: Sending prayers and snacks! Good luck, babe <3 sent at 20:20 pm.

I smile softly at her texts before switching over to my chat with Yeonjun.

Yeonjun: How's orange going for ya right now ;) sent at 20:16 pm.

Me: Die. sent at 20:21 pm.

I glance over at Soobin, who’s already sprawled out on the right side of bed, phone still in hand.

“So, you’re taking the bed?” I ask, arms crossed.

“Yeah,” he replies without looking up. Then, with a perfectly fake smile, he adds, “Just try not to kick me in your sleep, yeah?”

The sass practically oozes from his voice.

"No promises," I mutter under my breath, kicking off my shoes a little more aggressive than necessary—just to piss him off. "Accidents happen."

He snorts quietly, still glued to his phone. “That tends to happen a lot when you’re around.”

I roll my eyes at his comment, "You've chosen the right side of the bed, then?"

“Figured it made sense. You didn’t seem in a rush to claim it.”

"Oh, I didn't realize it was a race."

He lets out a small breath, not quite a laugh. "With you? It usually is."

“Chivalry isn’t dead, after all.” I mumble, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Wow. It's just like high school all over again.

A beat passes. No one says anything and neither of us smiles. The room feels tense but somehow warmer than it did a minute ago. I can't tell if its because he turned on the heater—or because this is the first proper conversation we’ve had in a year. Well, sorta proper.

It was tense, but it felt all too familiar to the both of us. It felt almost too easy to fall back into this rhythm. I don't respond right away, I just sit at the foot of the bed, unzipping my bag—only to find my clothes soaked from the heavy downpour.

I pull out the thick hoodie I had shoved in earlier, raising it in the air as it drips water onto the wooden floor.

"Fuck me."

I hold out the wet hoodie and hurry into the bathroom, draping it over the sink. I walk back into the bedroom again, digging into my bag for clothes that somehow escaped the rain. Luckily, I find some dry jeans, pajama shorts, and t-shirts, though a few items are damp.

Unfortunately, the other sweater I had packed for the trip is completely soaked as well, leaving me with only an oversized tee to keep me warm for the night.

A notification pops up from the group chat. It was Kai sending a blurry selfie with a face mask on, while Beomgyu flips off the camera, green glob smeared across both cheeks. I shake my head at the message, before pulling off my sweatshirt and heading to the bathroom for a quick shower.

I set my things down and peel off the rest of my clothes as the water takes a moment to heat up. When it’s finally hot enough, I step in, letting the steady stream wash over me—washing away the stress of the day: the rain, the long travel, him.

For a moment, everything feels still.

The sound of the shower mixes with the quiet hum of my thoughts and the steam rising from the hot water. I try not to psych myself out about being alone in the same room as Soobin again.

It literally feels like I’m trapped in some strange purgatory of old, burning tension and mountains of unfinished business

Okay, don't overreact.

When I finally step out, towel wrapped around me and hair dripping onto the bathroom tiles, I feel a little calmer than before—like I’m myself again. Or at least a version of me that doesn’t want to peel layers of skin off because of the sweat and rain clinging to me.

A version of me that might actually make it through this trip.

I dry off quickly and throw on some clothes—a loose, oversized shirt and the driest pair of pajama shorts I can find. Not great for warmth, but better than sleeping in damp, smelly jeans.

A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips. Clean feels good.

I open the bathroom door to the soft, warm glow of the bedroom light. Soobin is still there, now sitting on the edge of his side of the bed, phone casting a pale glow on his face. I quietly make my way to my side, keeping my back facing him as I start organizing the rest of my things without a word.

Behind me, the bathroom door clicks shut again, and the sound of the shower starts up. After a few minutes, the water stops, and the door opens once more—Soobin steps out.

“You done sulking yet?” I hear him ask.

“Not even close,” I reply, still facing away.

“Knew you’d say that.” He smirks.

I raise an eyebrow, pausing mid-rummage through my bag. Then I turn around—only to be met with a sight I wasn’t quite prepared for.

"What? You would've done the same if—Jesus, Soobin.”

My words halt as my eyes catch the sight of him standing by the bed. The boy only had a towel slung loosely around his waist and his chest still glistening with droplets from the shower.

His raven hair is tousled, carelessly swept back just enough to keep it from falling into his eyes as beads of water slowly trail down his neck and disappearing beneath the edge of the towel.

"You seriously couldn't have gotten dressed up inside the bathroom?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

He looks up, a t-shirt hanging from one hand, completely unfazed. He shrugs. "Didn't realize it was a crime to dry off in my own room."

I scoff, tearing my gaze away, and forcing myself not to notice the faint flush creeping up my cheeks. This definitely wasn’t the same boy who used to trip over his words just asking to borrow a pen.

No—this version walks around like he owns the fucking air we breathe. I hate that I still notice the difference.

“Idiot,” I mumble, barely audible under my breath.

The rain continues to patter against the windowpane, its steady rhythm growing louder as the storm outside intensifies. He runs a hand through his damp hair, tousling it further, then pulls the clean shirt over his head. The cotton fabric stretches slightly, damp patches from the shower leaving faint gray marks on the white shirt.

I adjust my own shirt, making sure it sits right, before trying to my bury my attention on the mundane task instead of the half-naked—honestly, basically naked, considering it was just a damn towel—boy behind me.

The quiet stretches on, the sound of rain filling the room as I work. Once I'm finally done, I stand, glancing over my shoulder to find him now wearing a hoodie over his shirt, paired with loose pajama pants. I let out sigh in relief and, a tiny bit of disappointment before walking over to the bed.

I pull back the covers and settle into my side, leaning against the headboard. For a moment, I let my eyes fall shut, trying to quiet the mixed nerves and lingering tension still humming under my skin. A few minutes pass before I feel the mattress dip beside me.

I open my eyes slowly and reach for my phone, letting the screen light up my face as I begin scrolling through social media. I come across a few dumb videos that make me snort under my breath, one of them pulling out a soft chuckle.

We don’t look at each other for a while. We don’t need to. There’s an unspoken agreement hanging in the air—we’ll just try to get through this the best we can.

The bedside lamps illuminating the room with warm lighting, cutting through the dimness as the storm outside grows even stronger.

Suddenly, the lights start to flicker abruptly.

My eyes slightly widen as uneasiness starts creeping in just as Soobin and I finally exchange glances at one another.

Then, everything goes black—the power cuts out and the heater falls silent. Now, only the glow from our phone screens lights up the space between us. I softly gasp at the sudden blackout, fingers instinctively tightening around the blanket as I pull it closer to me, attempting to hide the fluttering fear building in my chest.

I watch as Soobin turns on the flashlight on his phone, then standing up from his spot to try flicking the lights on and off again.

"That won't work, you know," I tell him.

"Not bad to try, is it?"

I shift my gaze toward the window, watching the rain clash against the glass as the tree branches sway in the gusts of the storm. Suddenly, a sharp alarm rings from Soobin's phone, making the both of us jump. He scans his device, slowly taking his time to read the alert before looking back at me.

“Heavy rainfall. The power’s out in other parts of the area too. They say it won’t come back until the storm calms down.” I sigh, turning my phone’s flashlight on and sinking into the sounds of rain filling the room.

"Just when it couldn't get any worse" he comments, sitting back down on the bed.

"Right," I say quietly, not looking up. "Because sharing a room with me is clearly the end of the world."

He tilts his head slightly, glancing over. "Didn’t say that."

"You didn’t have to." I exhale, keeping my voice even. "You’re not exactly subtle."

I glance down at my phone, the soft light of the screen casting a faint light across the sheets. After a moment, I move to place it on the bedside table, flashlight facing up to push back some of the dimness hanging in the room.

The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable—just... suspended. Like we’re both waiting to see what the other will do, but not in a hurry to break the stillness.

"How do you think the others are doing?" he asks eventually, voice lower than before.

I pause to think for a moment.

"Beomgyu and Kai are probably trying to see who can scare the other first with stupid ghost stories... or maybe watching some random movie Kai downloaded on his laptop before the trip."

He lets out a quiet laugh. "Yeonjun and Tae are probably having those deep conversations—catching up on life, figuring stuff out."

We share a quick look—something unspoken passing between us, a brief moment of shared understanding.

"Yunjin and Nari are probably the same," I add.

"Except Nari’s definitely curled up next to Yunjin by now, too scared of the thunder and lightning outside to care about the blackout."

I chuckle softly at the thought of my friends using this time to connect with each other better. It’s oddly comforting to think about them all, finding little moments like this despite everything.

A sudden flash of lightning briefly illuminates the window, casting sharp shadows across the room as the rain pounds harder against the glass. My bottom lip trembles ever so slightly, the roaring thunder outside and the blackout still gnawing at my nerves.

I bite down gently, trying to steady myself—trying to keep the spiraling thoughts from dragging me too deep into the what-ifs. Soobin notices. He doesn’t say anything, just quietly gets back into bed, pulling the covers over himself. I can feel his gaze linger as he turns to face me, his eyes settling on the faint shiver I can’t quite hide.

I force myself to stay still, pretending I don’t feel the weight of his gaze. I fix my eyes on the wall ahead, silently counting the seconds between flashes of lightning and the low rumble that follows.

Then, his voice breaks the silence—low, even, careful. "You okay?"

It's simple. Unassuming. But the question makes my chest tighten a little. I nod, almost instinctively.

"Yeah. I’m usually fine with this kind of thing. Just... this one feels different.”

A pause. Then, "You always did hate the dark."

HIs tone isn't teasing. It’s just a memory, held between his words—gentle and matter-of-fact. I glance over at him. He continues to hold his gaze at me—watching, really—not in a way that demands anything. Just... present. Like he's trying to recall a memory too.

"I didn't think you'd remember that." I murmur.

And suddenly I’m brought back to a moment during one of our late project nights, two years ago. I’d mentioned it without much thought, embarrassed as I admitted to keeping a nightlight on before I fell sleep well into high school. I’d expected him to laugh, maybe even tease and poke fun at me for it. But he didn't.

He’d just listened.

This moment feels like that version of him again. Before everything got so messy.

Soobin shifts slightly under the blanket, his voice softer when it returns. “I didn’t forget much, you know. Even when it felt like I did.”

He doesn’t elaborate, but he doesn’t need to. A moment of silence lingers between us.

"You can borrow my hoodie, if you want." he suddenly offers, already tugging at the sleeve like he’s ready to hand it over. "Might help you warm up a bit."

“No, it’s fine. I’m not that cold,” I say, trying to wave it off.

He shakes his head lightly, already starting to pull the hoodie over his head. “I don’t mind. I was next to the heater earlier, so I'm still warm anyway.”

“No, really. I’m okay,” I insist, even as I curl the blanket a little tighter around myself.

He gives me an unimpressed look. “Y/N, you’re literally shivering.”

"So?" I ask. He rolls his eyes before siting up from his previous position, slipping the hoodie over his head. The fabric shifts with the motion, briefly lifting his shirt and revealing a glimpse of his waist before settling into place again.

“Stop.”

He smirks slightly, holding the hoodie out again.

“Stop what?” he replies, raising an eyebrow.

“Being nice to me,” He shakes his head with an amused expression on his face, like he couldn't believe I was still thinking about that right now.

He tosses the hoodie toward me, the fabric landing softly on the bed between us before I can argue again. I can’t help but smile, feeling that familiar push-pull between us again—the unspoken acknowledgment that beneath the bickering, there’s something... softer.

“Just take it,” he says casually, settling back into his side of the bed like the conversation’s over.

“Don’t make me regret being nice.”

I stare at the hoodie for a second before slowly picking it up. It’s still warm. I hesitate—less because of pride now, more because it smells like him, familiar and oddly comforting. Like something I didn’t know I missed.

“Thanks,” I murmur, slipping it on. The sleeves are long, brushing against my fingertips, and the fabric is soft from too many washes.

But even as I settle into it, a little voice in my head starts nagging. What are you doing? Don’t let yourself fall for his bullshit again.

I try to play it cool, pushing that voice to the deepest part of my mind. But I can’t help the way I slow down just a little as I pull the hoodie tighter around me. I know to myself I shouldn't be letting it matter this much. But here I am, sitting in a dark room, wrapped in Soobin’s sweatshirt like it’s some kind of fragile, borrowed comfort, trying to make up for the years of unfinished business.

The same guy I’d been quietly pining over for years back in high school—the one who stood up for me whenever someone made dumb comments about me, the one who—

Okay, we get it.

Holy shit, I need to get a grip.

“You know, this reminds me of that time in junior year—when the power went out during finals week?” He cuts off my train of thought.

I blink, thrown for a second by the sudden shift. “What, in the middle of exam prep?”

He nods, a small laugh slipping out. “Yeah. You were freaking out because your notes got soaked in the rain, and the library shut early. You barged into the classroom like you were ready to fight someone.”

I let out a quiet groan, covering my face with one hand. “God, don’t remind me.”

“I remember you made the whole friend group take turns sharing notes with you. Bossed everyone around like it was your birthright.”

I peek through my fingers at him, trying not to smile. “Well, I was desperate. And it worked, didn’t it?”

“I mean, yeah. I didn’t mind.” He shrugs. His tone shifts slightly—quieter, softer. And something about it makes me glance up again.

“You never really did know how many people wanted to help you,” he adds. “I don’t think you let yourself see it.”

My throat tightens a little at that. I don’t have anything clever to say back. So I just look at him. And for a second, there’s nothing but the sound of the rain and something quietly settling between us. Something that’s been there for a long time.

"I remember when you used to ‘borrow’ my notes during our study sessions, and somehow they’d never make it back to me.” I say, a teasing edge in my voice.

Soobin casts me a glance I can’t quite read, then shifts his eyes upward to the ceiling. “They made it back… eventually.”

I raise an eyebrow. “After like two months. They were all crumpled by the time they came back to me, especially that one time you spilled banana milk on the cover of my notebook.”

“It was still readable.” He chuckles, unbothered.

"Barely. My color coded notes and neat handwriting deserved better."

Soobin smiles a little at that. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have let me sit next to you in class. That’s on you.”

I shake my head, lips twitching. “Unbelievable.”

“Resourceful,” he corrects, tapping his fingers lightly on the blanket.

I shift my body to completely face him, "You're still the same, Choi Soobin.." I chuckle softly.

Soobin mirrors my movement, turning just enough so we’re facing each other now, the space between us dim and quiet except for the rain outside and the faint hush of our breaths.

After a beat, he asks quietly, his voice softer than before, almost careful. “So… what are you thinking right now? Just between us.”

I offer a small, almost shy smile—less teasing, more real. “And what makes you think I’d just spill everything that easily?”

“Maybe because it’s just the two of us here, might as well keep things peaceful instead of turning this into another argument.”" He says, his voice soft but steady.

I’m not even sure when it all started—this endless back-and-forth between us, like kids fighting over the last piece of cake. What began as silent, resentful looks slowly turned into quiet digs, and now it’s just occasional sharp remarks whenever we cross paths.

It’s feels almost automatic now—like a reflex to sink into that sour mood when he’s around, the weight of all those old grudges clouding, filling me with disgust at the thought of Choi Soobin. But tonight, I'll take a slow breath and try to let it all go. I want to focus on staying civil, pushing all those unspoken frustrations aside, pretending for now that the tension between us doesn’t exist.

I let out a sigh. “Honestly? I’m just counting down the minutes ‘til the storm lets up and the power come back on.”

"Really?"

"Really." I lift an eyebrow, giving him a look.

"That’s all that’s on your mind?"

"What, were you expecting a secret confession or something?"

Fuck.

He lets out a quiet chuckle. “I don’t know... it just looked like your brain was running a marathon.” His voice is gentle, but there’s something curious laced in it—like he’s hoping I’ll prove him right.

I offer a small smile. “Well, I was also trying to figure out how we’re supposed to survive the next few days without driving each other insane.”

He laughs under his breath, shaking his head slightly. “That’s fair.”

A quiet moment stretches between us, the steady tap of rain against the window filling the space.

“But so far… I think we’re doing okay,” he says, voice thoughtful.

Then he glances over, meeting my eyes with a hint of hesitation. "Right?"

I hold his gaze for a moment, surprised by the softness in his voice—genuine, almost unsure. The kind of tone I wasn’t used to hearing from him anymore. A small part of me wants to scoff, to brush it off with another sarcastic remark. But instead, I find myself nodding—just barely.

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “I think we are.”

We both exchange soft smiles before breaking eye contact, the moment passing like a quiet truce.

"How about you?" I ask, voice softer now.

"Hm?" he responds, barely turning his head.

"What’s on your mind, right now?" I press gently, tilting my head slightly as I study his profile.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Thinking about..." he trails on.

"How many points I lost in my game when the blackout kicked me out mid-match.”

I laugh softly, playfully smacking his arm. “I’m serious!”

“I am too! Do you know how hard it was to build up that streak?” He winces dramatically, rubbing the imaginary spot I hit. I roll my eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

“Yeah, I’m sure your streak is definitely the top priority right now" He chuckles at my comment, the corners of his mouth twitching in that familiar, slightly smug way.

I glance up at him, locking eyes—steady, deliberate. His expression shifts just slightly, something unreadable passing through, but I don’t look away. Not this time.

"Really." I murmur.

He pauses for a moment, just long enough to stir my curiosity. Something about the hesitation feels deliberate—but I don’t push. I stay quiet, waiting.

"I guess...” he starts, eyes fixed on the ceiling instead of me. “I was just thinking about how this feels a little like... high school again.”

I feel his words like a pang in my chest, old memories stirring just beneath the surface—unwelcome but familiar.

“Yeah,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “It does feel like that.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then, more carefully, “Do you… still think about that time?”

“Sometimes,” I admit, eyes fixed on some spot beyond him.

“When I start missing how easy everything used to be. Before college got... complicated”

Before it got complicated between us, too.

"I think about it sometimes too, you know.."

"Yeah?"

“Yeah. I mean, I probably shouldn’t admit it, but part of me did enjoy the whole back-and-forth thing between us." he says quietly, almost sheepishly.

"Don't go soft on me now, Choi." I say, a teasing edge in my voice.

He grins, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Me? Never."

"Yeah. Keep telling yourself that, buddy."

We both let out quiet chuckles, the tension between us easing just a little. Before I can stop myself, the words slip out,

“Do you think about what happened between us?”

He freezes, just slightly. It’s quick—almost like a flinch—but I catch it. He doesn’t look at me right away. Instead, his gaze drops to the blanket, fingers absently tugging at a loose thread on the blanket.

“…I-I don’t know.” His voice is low, uncertain.

“I haven’t really thought about it in a while.”

It’s not cruel, not even cold—just distant in a way that feels practiced. Like he’s been telling himself that for so long it’s starting to sound like the truth.

“Right.” I nod slowly, even if it feels like something inside me just cracked a little.

“Seems like forgetting stuff like that doesn’t take much for you.” I try to keep my voice even.

That finally makes him look at me. His eyes search mine like he wants to argue—but doesn’t know how to without proving my point.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, quietly.

“Then what did you mean?”

He hesitates.

I can see him trying to come up with the right thing to say—something that won’t make this worse—but he doesn’t land on anything.

So I say it for him. “Don’t do that.”

His brows draw together, confused. “Do what?”

"I don't know... Be nice to me, and when you finally let me in, you just shut me out again."

“I.. I don’t really know what you want me to say.”

“I just want you to…” I trail off, frustration tightening in my chest. “I just want you to tell the truth. For once.”

I sit up from where I was lying, the weight of the moment pressing down on me.

“I am telling the truth,” he says, sitting up as well, his voice firm.

I shake my head. “Bullshit.”

His lips part, but I cut him off before he can say anything. I don’t want to hear the excuses.

“I get it. It’s easier to pretend nothing ever happened, right? Like we can just go back to how things were.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”

He looks at me—really looks at me. His eyes trace my face like he’s trying to make sense of me.

“Do you want me to say you didn’t mean anything to me?” I freeze. I want to meet his gaze, but I can’t bring myself to look at him.

“Is that what you think?”

He doesn’t answer. The silence between us feels heavy, like we’re underwater. I finally look up, meeting his eyes—and there it is: a flicker of something, maybe pain.

"Don't act like you know what's going on inside my head" he mumbles.

"Then just fucking tell me."

He hesitates, jaw tightening. For a long moment, nothing but the sound of our breathing fills the space between us. Then he exhales, looking away as his voice drops, rough around the edges.

“You act like you’re the only one who got hurt.”

That throws me. My shoulders tense, heart stuttering.“What are you talking about?”

He laughs once, a bitter sound that only makes my irritation flare hotter.

“You’re really going to play dumb now?” he asks, turning back to me, eyes sharp and unrelenting.

I don’t back down, my voice shaking with frustration. “No, Soobin. Fuck—I don't even know what you're talking about right now.”

He narrows his eyes, voice sharp and cutting through the tension.“What? You think I was just some asshole who ghosted you because I felt like it? That I woke up one day and decided to cut you out for no reason?”

“Yes!” I snap, louder than I mean to. “That’s exactly what it looked like! You shut me out—no call, no text, nothing. You left me to figure it out on my own.”

His face hardens, but something flickers beneath the anger—something that looks a lot like hurt.

“Stop acting so damn oblivious about it, Y/N!” he snaps, the anger bubbling beneath his tone.

“Oblivious about what?” I demand, my voice rising.

“The fucking letter!” he spits out, voice raw and desperate.

I blink, caught off guard.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, my heart pounding.

His expression tightens, confusion mixing with disbelief.

“The note I left in your notebook—the one where I tried to tell you that I…” His voice falters, trailing off before he can finish.

I look at him, confusion twisting in my chest, my heart pounding louder. He didn't even need to say it. We both knew what he meant. Silence falls—long and suffocating—like the calm before a storm. Neither of us moves or speaks. It feels like the air itself is holding its breath, waiting for something to break the tension. I could hear my heart thump in my chest so loudly I’m sure he can hear it too. Then, like a spark to dry tinder, the tension ignites.

“So you thought I was just supposed to know?” I burst out, voice sharp and trembling.

“That I’d just magically find your stupid note and feel the same—when you never even gave it to me?”

“I did give it to you, Y/N!” he snaps.

“I left the damn notebook on top of your locker before our final presentation that morning. You can’t tell me you didn’t see it.” he explains.

I go quiet, trying to pull the memory from the haze of that day. It was raining—I remember that. I was soaked, rushing through the hallway, trying to dry myself off. I’d thrown my umbrella carelessly on top of the locker… never even looked. His voice cuts in again, bitter.

“I found it the next day,” he says quietly, “In the trash bin. Not just the note—the whole damn notebook. Like you were trying to erase everything I said in that stupid letter, like I never mattered to you.”

He continues, "And you never said a damn thing! How was I supposed to read your mind? You shut me out just as much as I did!” His eyes flashing with anger again.

What?

“Shut you out?” I scoff, stepping closer. “You fucking disappeared! Left me in the dark. And now you act like I’m the villain?”

He scoffs back, voice low and bitter. “Maybe you threw everything away the moment you decided I wasn’t worth your fucking time.”

The air between us grows tighter, heavy with resentment and repressed frustrations. The heavy pressure building in my chest is matched with the rising intensity of the rainstorm outside. The atmosphere feels even more heated, caused by the swirling mixed emotions of hurt, frustration, and something else—something electric.

Without a second thought, my hand grips the collar of his shirt, yanking him toward me. His eyes widen in surprise for just a second—then I crash my lips onto his. His hand immediately finds my face, the other wrapping itself around my waist, pulling me even closer against him like he was afraid I'd disappear. The kiss felt raw, unfiltered, like the argument had just shifted into rougher means of showing our anger toward one another.

The taste of his minty toothpaste still lingers on his lips, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo, silently begging to let it drown out every logical thought as we pour all our frustrations we had been dragging for too long into the kiss. I move instinctively, sliding into his lap, my fingers tangling in his hair.

It all felt so messy, so chaotic.

I can almost hear a tiny voice in the back of my head saying we should talk this out like rational adults—that we shouldn’t be tearing into each other like this.

Fuck that.

I don’t stop. I know I don’t want to. Not when he's kissing me like this.

His hand slides from my waist to grip one of my thighs, anchoring me to him as I shift deeper into his lap, craving the friction. He catches my bottom lip gently between his teeth, and I gasp—just enough for him to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth. My whole body reacts, heat pooling in my chest as my heart thunders louder than the storm outside. When we finally pull apart, breathless, neither of us moves.

Our foreheads pressed against each other, our breathing uneven, as our eyes lock into one another like we were trying our best to make sense of the situation I had pulled both of us into, not uttering a single word. Maybe we were both too afraid to break whatever this is—to say something that would snap us back into reality. A reality where we call this a mistake and pretend like this never happened, like we’ll be switching rooms tomorrow and going back to whatever we were before.

Quiet. Resentful. Or maybe.. we just don't know what the hell to say at all.

His fingers twitch slightly against my thigh before slowly loosening their grip. A flicker of disappointment stirs in me, my thoughts racing at the possibility that he might actually pull away. His eyes search mine, like he’s trying to find the right version of me—one that isn’t clouded by all the assumptions he’s built up over time.

"I… I didn't know you didn't get it," he finally says, voice low and hoarse. "The letter."

I nod gently, swallowing hard. "I didn't. I would've said something if I had."

"Would you?" he asks with no accusation in his tone. Just uncertainty. His voice is wrapped in hesitation, like he's bracing himself for something.

"Yeah," I whisper. "I would've."

He exhales sharply, eyes closing for a second like something inside him just gave way. The tension hadn't disappeared. It was just softer now. Everything between us feeling a little more fragile now, like we’re standing at the edge of something that could finally make sense.

“You really didn’t know,” he says, more to himself than to me.

I shake my head. "No. I think it got tossed before I even noticed it was there."

A beat passes as we continue to hold onto each other, like we're soaking in each other's presence for the first time without all the static.

“Then everything I thought… all this time…” His voice fades, but I know what he means. I feel it too.

All the distance, the biting remarks, the resentment (as much as they were all bullshit)—it wasn’t for nothing. It was built on misunderstandings we never cleared up. Feelings we were too scared to admit out loud, even to ourselves. We’d been stuck in denial, hiding behind the label of rivals—enemies, even—just to bury whatever this was… whatever it’s always really been.

“I thought you didn’t feel the same. That you never would,” he admits quietly.

“And I thought you never cared at all,” I say. The silence returns, but it’s different now. Warmer. Less hostile. There’s a tenderness in the space between us that wasn’t there before.

I start to feel a strange warm fuzziness blooming in my chest, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. His dark brown eyes lock onto mine as he brushes a loose strand of hair from my face, his fingers barely grazing my skin.

“I always did,” he whispers. My heart flutters at his confession.

This time, when I lean in, it’s slower. Softer. Soon, our lips meet again, it’s not rushed or angry. It’s quiet. Vulnerable. It’s everything we never said, everything we were too afraid to feel, poured into something that finally makes sense.

We hold each other tightly—like we’re learning how to, for the first time.

The next morning, the rain finally lets up. The air is crisp, the ground outside still damp and dark beneath the trees. Inside the cabin, the quiet is soft and unfamiliar, broken only by the rustle of clothes and the occasional creak of the floorboards.

I stir at the sound, blinking against the pale gray light filtering through the curtains. Soobin’s already up—half-dressed, moving carefully around the room like he’s trying not to wake me. Or maybe like he doesn’t know what to say if I do.

He doesn’t say anything. Neither do I.

There’s no bitterness in the silence—just a heaviness. Like the weight of everything we let slip last night hasn’t quite settled. He moves around the room quietly, slipping on a shirt, brushing his fingers through his hair. I watch him from the bed, the blanket pulled loosely around my waist, heart still beating slower than usual—like it’s unsure what rhythm to follow now.

He doesn’t meet my eyes. Not once.

Something about the way he avoids my gaze makes my chest tighten. Last night had felt like something cracked open. But now, in the soft gray light of morning, I’m not sure either of us knows what to do with the pieces.

Soon, we both step out of the cabin together, walking in silence toward the shared dining area. But the silence isn’t biting today—it’s just… tense. Like we both said too much last night and didn’t say nearly enough.

When we arrive, the others are already gathered around the long wooden table. Kai is in the middle of attempting to roll a grape down from his forehead into his mouth, much to Nari’s delight. She sits beside him, another grape pinched between her fingers, cheering him on like it was a sport.

The table erupts with laughter and exaggerated complaints about who snores the loudest. I smile at the sight.

“Look who finally made it,” Beomgyu grins, raising his cup of coffee. I roll my eyes, grabbing a seat beside Yeonjun. Soobin wordlessly takes the one across from me.

“Did you guys sleep in, or were you just avoiding us?” he adds.

I force a tired smile and settle into my seat. Soobin just nods. “Yeah. Just tired.”

"Last night’s storm kept us up pretty late.” I add.

“We didn’t sleep much either!” Yunjin jumps in. “Nari wouldn’t stop talking about the possibility of the lightning hitting one of the cabins that it got me fearing for my life too."

“I was being realistic,” Nari protests, and the table erupts again.

I laugh softly, eyes flicking to Soobin without thinking. The memory of our conversation the night before lingered at the edge of my thoughts.

I knew I made the right guess.

“We were talking about the storm earlier too,” Kai says, reaching for a slice of toast. “What did you two end up doing when the power went out?”

I see Beomgyu wiggle his eyebrows from the corner of my eye.

“Soobin lost his mind for a bit,” I say, voice light. "He got disconnected mid-game and wouldn’t shut up about some ranked streak,”

“And Y/N kept hogging the blanket,” Soobin adds, not missing a beat. “I don’t even know how she managed to wrestle with me while dead asleep.”

Groans erupt around us—dramatic and exaggerated. But underneath the teasing, something subtle lingers. A shift. They’re watching us now.

Not the way they usually do. Like they’re waiting for something. Like they know something’s changed—and they’re waiting for us to confirm it. Soobin stands abruptly and brushes crumbs off his shirt. “I’m gonna get some orange juice. You want anything?”

It’s casual. But the silence that follows isn’t. I glance up, just in time to catch how heads turn—slight, slow, like they’re trying not to make it obvious. But it is. Too fucking obvious.

They weren’t expecting that.

“Apple juice,” I reply, voice even. He nods once and walks off.

Taehyun leans in just enough to lower his voice. “You two okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired,” I repeat, too fast. Too practiced.

"Riiight," The boy hums, unimpressed, dragging the word out a little. His gaze lingers longer than it should. I don’t meet it.

I busy myself with the glass of water in front of me, pretending not to notice how the table feels quieter around me. Even Hueningkai, who’s usually the first to fill silences, pauses mid-bite to glance back and forth between us. It’s subtle, but they can tell. Everyone can.

The air between me and Soobin is heavier, different—like something broke open last night and we haven’t figured out how to patch it up again.

We don’t bicker. We don’t talk.

We were just stuck in this strange, unspoken truce, careful not to look too long or say too much.

Nari cheers suddenly, loud and triumphant.

“I did it! It actually landed in my mouth!” She beams, holding her hands in the air like she’d won a medal. Everyone laughs and claps, the attention shifting with relief. The tension breaks—but not for me.

Because a second later, I feel someone lean in from my left, too close to be casual. His voice lands soft and deliberate right at my ear.

"Orange does suit you, Y/N." Yeonjun murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

My gaze snaps to him, confused—until I see where he’s looking. Not at me. Not at my face. But at the purple mark hidden just behind my neck. Faint. Barely there. Not invisible, though.

Oh.

My heart skips, and I swallow. Across the table, Soobin sets down the two glasses—one in front of me, the other by his seat. His fingers brush the rim of mine for just a second longer than needed.

When I meet his eyes, he’s already looking at me.

There’s a quiet intensity in his gaze—something unspoken hanging between us. But instead of holding his stare, I look away first.

It feels easier this way.

a/n: heyyyy!! :D uhh im backkk akjsbfjasbf. I want to start posting wayy more like actually, like legit i promise. i'll also start replying to my requests and will open them soon again!!

anywayy, i still don't know how to feel about this fic since this is my first time writing something thats not a research paper in a hot minutee, but i hoped u guys like itt!!

(im also still trying to get comfortable writing a bit more suggestive fics, so this is my first entry on that!!)

also,, the way i kept giggling a bit to myself at the thought of Nari with her head just tilted up, mouth agape, moving around trying to catch that grape while everyone at the table sat in silence HELPP i find her soo cutee!!

[biteyoubiteme]

blue raspberry flavored

soobin x fem!reader

synopsis: he’s so cute when he asks, he’s even cuter when he doesn’t

warnings: 🔞!!! breeding kink, baby trapper, dubcon/manipulation, nipple/breast play, use of teeth, marking, no protection, creampie, talk of pregnancy, soobin calls reader bunny a few times prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1.5k

an: don't know how this one will go over but hope you guys like it feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the other fics here [dumdum m.list]

Soobin was never really forgetful of anything. He never forgot your birthday, missed an anniversary, messed up on your coffee order, he never even had to write down what he needed when he went grocery shopping. But bringing a condom always seemed to slip his mind. 

At first it was easy to write off in the beginning of your relationship, every time the two of you got closer to having sex and not just messy make outs every pouty ‘its okay ill just pull out’ sounded more and more appealing. But you bought a box of condoms for your apartment and didn't realize the way his jaw clicked at the sight of them. 

Soon after soobin was suddenly into pda. Purposefully teasing you out in public, hand slipping up your thigh under the table at a friends house, pulling you into heady kisses out at events, pushing you into bathroom stalls to try and undress you. You didn't make the connection until later that he was avoiding taking you home. ‘I just can't wait i need you right now,’ 

He knew exactly what to say for you to fold, slowly chipping away at the idea that the two of you even needed protection at all. It was so easy for you to remember when in your own bed, the nightstand right there. But in the back of the car with his lips all over you, hands kneading your thighs, pushing your knees apart; you let so much slide. Mumblings for him to pull out lost between moans. Where was he supposed to cum in the car anyways? He’d hate to ruin the interior or your pretty skirt. 

In the beginning it wasn't so bad, soobin could restrain himself. If you two didn't use a condom he would make sure to pull out and if you did use one he was easy to comply. But it only took one time and it was an accident, a real accident where he didn't pull out fast enough. It was in the mix of his fucked out apology that he realized he wasnt sorry at all, not when he was watching the way your abused cunt was pushing out his cum and all he could really think about was going right back in for more. 

post nut he was a bit ashamed but as soon as he thought about it for long enough he had his hand down his pants begging in an empty room to get you pregnant. And when you're ovulating it's only worse. Not only does he know it would be so easy to knock you up but it's like you're beckoning him to do it. Your hands squeezing your boobs, pushing up your bra while you're watching movies together. “Ugh im so sore,” the pout on your lips instantly makes him hard. His imagination taking over thinking about just how big they would get if he did get you pregnant. 

And when you wear that tiny little tank top he is insatiable. Nipples peeking through the thin fabric as you lay against the pillows on the bed. You didn't even notice that soobin is paying no attention to the tv, his eyes watching the way your chest rises and falls. Adjusting in his seat to not make it too obvious he was already leaking in his sweatpants. Only it does the exact opposite, your eyes drawn to the bulge outlined in the gray fabric. 

“Need help there?” it's the slight invitation he needs to roll over on top of you, lips working down your throat, hips rutting against yours. 

“Please bunny, i need you,” he begs as you run your fingers through his hair pushing the strands behind his ears. Pleading brown eyes working on you instantly, he was always so desperate to have you and he knew it always made him get what he wanted. 

He tugs down your tank top far enough for your boobs to spill out, hands reaching up to cup them both, thumbs sliding over your skin as he groans. “Look at your pretty nipples,” he squeezes his hands, pushing them together to watch the way your cleavage deepens. 

You whine softly, “gentle i'm still tender,” the reminder only adding to his want, mouth coming down to suck on your nipple, your moan going straight to his aching cock. 

Kneading the handfuls he has of your breasts, your back arches, lips popping off obscenely from one nipple only to capture the next. He's rough as he massages, your nails scratching along his scalp, his moans reverberating through your chest as he swirls his tongue over the hard bud. 

He's humping you like you don't have layers of clothes separating you two, every slow drag of his hips pressing his hardness right against your clit, his teeth softly biting at your nipple tugging to watch how you react. Soobin knows that getting you off at least once before actually fucking you led to your inhibitions being weakned enough to forget about the condom all together. His hand slipped down between you two, pushing past your waistband to rub on your clit. 

Lips coated in his spit he starts sucking marks along your chest, watching the way your head rolls back, fingers sliding through your slick as your hips buck up into his hand. He knows your body well enough to see the first orgasm coming, relishing in the way you tremble against him. With no time to let you ride out your high he's pulling down your shorts and panties, kicking off his sweats using all your wetness to lube up his cock. 

But even in your haze you reach out beside you fumbling for the drawer to the nightstand pulling out the little shiny packet. You don't even see the disappointment on his face as you rip open the packet helping to slide the condom on him. 

And he wants to be good, truly, only when he slowly pushes in he cant think about anything else except fucking you hard enough the condom breaks, neither of you knowing until its too late, until all his cum is spilling out of you. It’s that thought alone that makes him pull all the way out, his fingers slipping along the condom as he tugs it off. “What-” 

“It's okay,” he mutters, tossing the condom to the pile of your clothes on the floor. “I need to feel all of you please,” and he tries to kiss away the worry on your mouth, and you shake your head. 

“No you need another one we have extra in the nightstand,” but he's already prodding your entrance, tip slipping in as he begs, "I'll just pull out I promise, please, please,"

You don't even get to respond before his hips slam into yours, fully seating himself inside you, promptly shutting up anything else you could say. Even if after the two of you were done you were upset it's not like you would leave him would you? Not if he got you pregnant, the two of you were ready, and he'd take such good care of you. “Fuck,” his drawn out moan pressed right into your neck as he bullies his cock into you, “you feel amazing bunny,” 

You're clinging to him, moans mixing with the obscene wet sounds coming from between you two. “Soobin s-slow down,” but you're not sure you want him to, not when he's hitting just the perfect spot inside of you, pressed so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach. 

“No,” he pants pulling you closer, “im going to stuff you full of my fucking cum, we will stay here all night if we have to,” your clenching gummy walls aiding him on. “Don't you want my baby?” 

You can't even think straight let alone answer his question, his long fingers moving to work on your clit, “you'd be so pretty full of me, my cum, my baby, everyone would know youre all mine,” 

The room is full of your desperate moans, your legs wrapping around him as if you could pull him any closer. “You like that idea huh?” 

“Y-yes,” you're practically crying, tears welling up in your eyes, “i want it, please,” 

That alone makes soobins balls tighten, cock jerking inside you before he spills the biggest load he's ever had inside you. He presses his hips against yours making sure you're flush together as you cum, fluttering walls sucking him in deeper milking him dry of all he has. He takes your hand in his lowering it to press over your pelvis, pressing it down enough to make you moan, “i don't think once will do it,” deep slow thrusts pushing his cum further in making you dizzy, “but you did such a good job im sure you can handle the rest,"

a very special thank you to @aduh0308 and @chyuuiung for beta/proof reading this for me ily you're the best

🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 
@tomorrowxforever @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 
@cypher-03 @midnight-mochii @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 
@yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae

[enimsiyobeht]

HAVE YOU EVER TRIED THIS ONE? txt hard thought.

synopsis : txt ot5 (separately) x amab reader! & their favorite position. minor breath play/choking (yj), against a mirror (yj), subtle exhibitionism & dacryphilia if you squint (yj), reader calls yj a slut once, degradation (yj), risky setting (bin), praise (bin), implied multiple rounds (bin), pet name; bunny (bin), sleepy sex (gyu), cockwarming (gyu), subtle breeding kink (gyu), risky setting (tae), minor bondage (tae), one occurrence of spanking & denial of orgasm (tae), vanilla intimate sex (kai), subtle breeding kink if you squint (kai).

YEONJUN & standing doggy, against a mirror.

His palms brace against the cool hotel bathroom mirror, muscles trembling as you fuck into him from behind. You’ve got one hand gripping his throat, just tight enough to keep him present, and the other pushing his lower back down to arch him deeper.

“Look at yourself,” you growl against the shell of his ear. “Look how desperate you are.”

Yeonjun’s lips are swollen from earlier kisses, parted in messy moans that fog the glass. His eyeliner's smudged, his cheeks streaked with sweat—and you love it. His cock bounces with every thrust, untouched, but leaking.

“God, you love being watched, don’t you? Little slut for the camera—too bad this mirror’s the only audience you get.”

He whines, trying to roll his hips back into you, but you grab his jaw and force him to lock eyes with his own reflection. “Don’t look away. You’re going to watch yourself come undone.”

And he does—crying out as he finishes untouched, legs shaking as your rhythm grows merciless.

SOOBIN & reverse cowgirl, on a chair.

You’re seated in a creaky wooden chair in the practice breakroom—hours past midnight, doors locked, lights low. Soobin’s in your lap, facing away, thighs spread wide over yours as he sinks down on your cock with a soft, open-mouthed gasp.

“You always take me so well, baby,” you murmur, hands gripping his hips. “So eager to ride, even when you’re sore.”

Soobin’s eyes flutter shut, head tilted back as he starts to grind in slow circles, the curve of his back on display. You can see everything—his flushed neck, his cock twitching against his stomach, the way his ass bounces just slightly with each desperate movement.

When he gets too shaky to move, you take over—thrusting up into him while your grip tightens, holding him down so he can’t escape the overstimulation.

“Just sit there, bunny. Let me use you. You don’t need to do anything but take it.”

Soobin moans helplessly, fingers digging into your thighs. “D-Don’t stop. Wanna feel it… wanna feel you stay inside.”

BEOMGYU & lazy, sideways spooning.

The dorm is quiet. You’re spooned up behind Beomgyu on his bed, one hand lazily wrapped around his waist as you grind into him slowly, hips rolling with a sleepy rhythm.

His back arches into you, body relaxed and pliant. “You feel so good,” he breathes, voice slurred with pleasure. “Don’t stop, please…”

The angle has you pressing against that perfect spot over and over, dragging moans from him with ease. His legs twitch every time you bottom out.

“I won’t,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “I’m gonna stay inside all night. Fill you up and keep you full.”

Beomgyu moans at that, hips stuttering. “Fuck… yes. Want it, wanna be full of you.”

He’s clenching down with every thrust, warm and tight, whimpering as you rub circles into his hip. You don’t stop until he’s trembling, covered in sweat, and begging through broken breaths.

Afterward, you hold him close, still buried deep, his back sticky against your chest as he falls asleep with a blissed-out smile.

TAEHYUN & bent over a desk, one leg lifted.

The room still smells faintly of sweat and wood polish. Practice ended hours ago, but you stayed late—because Taehyun asked for it.

Now, he’s bent over a desk, arms tied behind his back with your belt, one leg lifted onto the edge to give you better access. His shirt is bunched around his waist, exposing his flushed back and trembling thighs.

“You sure about this?” you ask lowly, even as your cock teases his hole.

“Please,” he grits out, looking back at you. “Make me beg.”

You thrust in hard, deep, and his breath chokes out. He moans louder than he means to, biting his lip as you set a brutal pace. The position stretches him open in a way that leaves him wrecked—and you make it worse by staying silent, letting his own noises fill the room.

When he starts getting close, you pull out and spank him once, dragging your cock against his twitching hole. “Not yet.”

Taehyun whimpers, body trembling in restraint. “Fuck… please. I can’t—I need it.”

Only then do you slam back in and fuck him until he’s sobbing, cock untouched but spilling across the desk.

HUENING KAI & seated lotus position.

Your hotel room is dim, soft music playing in the background as Huening Kai sits in your lap, chest to chest. Your arms wrap tightly around him, guiding his hips slowly as he takes you in inch by inch.

“It’s okay,” you whisper when he gasps. “I’ve got you. Just let me feel you.”

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and buries his face in your neck, cock flushed against your stomach. Every time you thrust up, he shivers and lets out a soft, broken whimper.

“I love this,” he whispers. “Being this close. It’s like… you’re inside my heart too.”

You smile softly against his temple and thrust just a little harder. “I’m not letting you go, baby.”

His nails dig into your back, thighs clenching. “Please,” he breathes. “Please don’t pull out.”

You fuck him deep, slow and aching, until he’s trembling in your arms, sobbing your name as he cums between you—held tight, worshiped, completely yours.

a/n : do y'all like this layout .... trying something new after passing my exam today 👉👈.

[cbeargyu]

Ever you think about camboy!yeonjun? 🥺

just chillin'

summary: alone on a saturday night, you stumble upon a camboy's stream by pure accident. what begins as innocent curiosity spirals into an irresistible addiction, especially when he seems to notice you among the thousands. and when he reaches out to you personally... you realize that some fantasies are too tempting to leave behind.

pairing: camboy!yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to lovers, slight angst (insecurity), heavy tension, slow burn turned fast, eventual public sex (streamed), slight exhibitionism.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), camboy themes, masturbation (m and f), sexting, sextalk, blowjob, vaginal sex, multiple positions, dirty talk, slight choking, spanking, use of sex toys, praise + possessiveness, masking identities (reader wears a mask, yeonjun wears sunglasses) during public stream, emotional insecurity (reader worried about appearance), reader is implied to be inexperienced or shy, mild degradation (very soft, mostly praise kink), slight breeding kink talk, heavy mentions of viewer comments/donations.

wc: 4,6k

notes: baby, thank you so much for this amazing request, i was blushing like crazy thinking about all the ways i could handle the story, wow, not gonna lie, my favorite request ever, bae, yeonjun camboy is such a concept 😭💗

it’s saturday night, and the house is dead quiet.

your parents left earlier for some family dinner party—you had no interest in small talk with distant cousins or watching your dad argue about politics over cheap wine. your brother, predictably, is out with his girlfriend, probably halfway into some movie or already making out in his car. either way, he’s not coming home anytime soon.

you’ve got the whole house to yourself. all night.

at first, it felt nice—freedom. silence. you curled up on the couch, made popcorn, browsed netflix like it was an olympic sport. but after an hour of half-watching three different movies, nothing could hold your attention. not even the romcoms with shirtless leads.

you switched to tiktok. scrolled. scrolled more. a couple thirst traps. a couple puppies. nothing hit.

you huffed and opened your laptop, fingers drifting without purpose. maybe a gameplay stream would help pass time. something soft. chill. maybe even fall asleep to it.

you searched “streamers live now” and clicked a random site link that looked slightly sketchy.

only—it wasn’t for gaming.

the homepage was dark. black background, bright red accents. pulsing icons and neon outlines. bold letters reading “18+ only. enter responsibly.”

you blinked. hesitated. your heart kicked once in your chest.

then curiosity won.

you clicked.

the page opened with a grid of livestream thumbnails. too many skin tones. too many soft moans bleeding through overlapping audio. most thumbnails showed women—arched backs, lace underwear, fingers between thighs. the kind of content you’d only ever dared to peek at by accident.

you licked your bottom lip without realizing. eyes glued to the screen.

and then you saw him.

a stream titled “just chillin’”. the thumbnail was cropped just below the neck, showing a toned chest in a tight black tank top, arms flexed casually as he leaned back in a gamer chair. loose, light-wash jeans slung low on narrow hips, exposing a hint of red boxers.

his username: yawnzzn.

something about it made your fingers freeze.

there weren’t too many viewers inside. only a few hundred, way less than the others. maybe that was better. maybe you wouldn’t get noticed.

you clicked the stream.

your screen went black for a moment—then it loaded.

he was talking already, laughing softly, the kind of voice that scraped low and slow against your ears. the room was mostly dark, lit only by the glow of his monitor and faint neon strips behind his desk. it cast shadows across his collarbones, the slope of his shoulders.

you quickly plugged in your headphones, pulse jumping.

he leaned forward, adjusting something on the desk, and that’s when the camera caught his chin. his mouth.

his lips were plush, pink, and curved into a lazy smirk.

your whole body froze when you heard it:

“huh,” he chuckled. “who’s ‘babygrl87’?”

your username.

your dumb, randomly chosen username.

you nearly slammed your laptop shut, face burning, heart jackhammering inside your chest.

“didn’t think we had new viewers tonight.” his voice dipped lower, teasing. “you shy, babygrl?”

you didn’t answer.

his chat was wild. emojis, donations, constant messages.

“take the tank top off!” “the new girl better tip if she’s gonna stare.” “yo, yawnzzn, we want the show.”

he ignored most of them. or teased them back.

“which one should go first?” he mused aloud. “shirt or pants?”

your thighs pressed together. he wasn’t even doing anything yet, and your body was already betraying you.

then—slowly—he stood up.

his tank top hugged his body in all the right places. tight against his chest, his waist slim. he stretched, letting his arms lift overhead, showing a sliver of skin above the waistband of his jeans. the v-line below his abs? obscene.

you didn’t even realize you were holding your breath.

then he reached down, thumbs hooking into his belt loops.

“you wanna see more?” he asked, looking directly into the camera. it felt like he was looking straight at you.

“say please.”

his viewers spammed please, but you stayed quiet.

and yet—you couldn’t look away.

he unbuttoned his jeans. dragged the zipper down slow. the denim slid off his hips, falling to his ankles with a dull thud.

your breath hitched.

tight red boxers. snug. low. the bulge underneath them? impossible to ignore. thick, heavy-looking. twitching slightly under the fabric.

you pressed your thighs tighter.

he sat back down, shifting slightly, letting one leg rest wide open on either side of the chair. spread just enough to show off the outline pressing against the boxers.

“you guys are fucking filthy,” he muttered with a smirk. “but lucky for you... so am i.”

his hand dipped under the waistband.

not all the way—just enough to tease.

his fingers brushed over himself, then pulled out, gripping through the fabric, pressing against the hardness. you watched the muscles in his arm tense.

he exhaled softly. deep. like he really needed to touch himself.

you couldn’t stop staring.

his palm moved slow at first, just rubbing the base, then stroking up and down along the outside. the fabric grew darker at the tip. he was leaking already.

you bit your lip hard, your own thighs twitching.

he kept going. breathing heavier. head tilted back, exposing his throat.

“fuck, babygrl,” he groaned suddenly. your eyes widened.

did he just—

“you’re still watching, right?” he said between shallow breaths. “don’t look away. i’m doing this for you.”

he reached into his boxers, finally pulling himself out.

thick. veiny. flushed red at the tip.

he spat into his hand. started stroking—slow at first, then faster.

the slick sound of skin on skin filled your ears through the headphones.

you were hypnotized.

his moans were low and filthy, hips shifting as he fucked into his hand. his tank top bunched up higher on his chest, exposing his abs, the muscles in his thighs tensing as he got closer.

his eyes were heavy-lidded now, lips parted.

“wish i had you here,” he muttered. “wish i could see you... touching yourself too.”

you were. not even sure when your hand slipped under your shorts. but it was there now. fingers rubbing, too fast, too needy.

he got louder.

he leaned forward, panting, fisting himself hard.

“you want it?” he growled. “want me to come for you?”

you gasped. the tension snapped.

you came first.

trembling, breath caught, hand soaked.

he moaned—loud, raw—and came a second after. cum spilling over his knuckles, streaking his abs. he didn’t stop stroking until every last drop was out, breathing like he’d run a mile.

for a second, it was quiet.

only his ragged breath. and yours.

then he talked to the camera again.

“thanks for watching, babygrl.”

you slammed your laptop shut.

you never meant to stay.

at first, it was just curiosity—an accident on a saturday night, when the house was too empty and the silence wrapped too tightly around your neck. you stumbled into his stream, yawnzzn, because it was late, and you were bored, and the thumbnail showed more skin than anything you were brave enough to click before.

you should’ve closed the window. you should’ve gotten up, made tea, gone to bed.

but you didn’t.

you stayed. wide-eyed and still, staring at the boy who leaned back lazily in his gamer chair, the room bathed in the low glow of his monitor, his body relaxed, his fingers moving with casual, devastating confidence over himself.

you didn’t even know his name.

all you had was a username. a voice. a body that looked carved by hands more careful than god’s. long fingers. full pink lips. shoulders wide enough to carry the whole damn world.

you never commented. not once.

you just watched.

he noticed, somehow.

your username would blink into the list of viewers and he’d smile, low and wicked.

“looks like babygrl87’s here,” he’d tease once in a while.

the chat would explode with laughter.

"silent watcher’s back." "she's loyal but shy." "say something, girl!"

but you never did.

you stayed hidden, frozen, cheeks burning, fingers trembling at the sight of him.

and he kept performing for you anyway.

stroking himself slow in the shadows, spreading his legs wide so you could see everything, moaning under his breath, letting his pleasure spill into the microphone until it felt like he was touching you through the screen.

sometimes he'd say things like—

"bet she's watching real close..." "wish she'd tell me what she likes..." "i'll just have to guess, baby."

every time he said "baby," something deep inside you twisted.

you touched yourself to him more times than you could count. memorized every shift of his hips, every flex of his thighs, every low curse that spilled from his throat. his face stayed mostly hidden—just his mouth, his jaw, the curve of his nose—but it didn’t matter.

he had you wrapped around his finger without ever seeing his whole face.

until tonight.

the notification buzzed on your phone and you didn’t hesitate. you flung your laptop open and clicked into his stream before your fingers could even register it.

live now: yawnzzn — "friday chill."

it was late. almost midnight. but it was friday, and you could stay up all you wanted.

the stream loaded—and immediately your breath caught.

yeonjun was different tonight.

he wore a black hoodie, the hood pulled up to shadow most of his face. only the sharp line of his jaw, the tempting curve of his lips, and the glint of an earring peeked out.

his posture was lazier than usual, sprawled low in his chair, legs spread wide.

and—

only two viewers.

just you. and someone who quickly left.

you were alone with him.

your heart pounded so loud you barely heard him speak at first.

“well, look who it is.” he smiled, a little softer this time. “thought you’d come."

you swallowed hard.

he leaned closer to the camera, tapping his fingers on the desk.

“guess it’s just you and me tonight, babygrl.”

your hands shook.

for the first time, you typed something.

hi.

the word looked tiny in the chatbox. pitiful. but yeonjun froze when he saw it.

his mouth parted.

then—

he laughed.

god, the sound was warm. real. his whole body tilted a little, like he couldn’t believe it.

“no way,” he said, eyes shining. “you’re real. you actually talk.”

you bit your lip so hard it hurt.

he grinned wider, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a second. he looked—happy. excited. like you just made his whole night.

"fuck, i should do something special for you," he mused. "loyal watcher deserves a reward."

you hesitated. then, shaky fingers flying across the keys, you typed:

can i see your face?

for a second, the world stopped.

he leaned back, tapping his chin, pretending to think. then he smirked, eyes glinting under the hood.

"only because it’s you," he said, voice low. "only because you’ve been good."

he reached up, gripping the hood—and slowly pushed it back.

you forgot how to breathe.

he was beautiful.

no. beyond beautiful.

his face was unfair.

sharp, slanted cat-like eyes, framed by thick lashes, glinting dark and dangerous under the soft light. a high nose bridge, cheekbones cut clean enough to bleed on. his mouth, god, that sinful mouth—full and pink, curled into a smirk that promised ruin.

he was the kind of beautiful that wasn’t supposed to be real.

the kind that hurt to look at.

your stomach flipped violently. your whole body flushed hot.

he tilted his head, messy dark hair falling into his eyes, and smiled.

"what do you think, baby?" he teased. "worth the wait?"

you couldn’t even type.

he chuckled, low and raspy.

“i’ll take that silence as a yes.”

he leaned in closer, so close the camera almost fogged.

"don’t disappear on me now," he whispered. "you’re mine tonight."

and you knew—deep in your bones—you’d never escape him.

not now.

not ever.

you should’ve closed the laptop.

you should’ve logged off the moment he smiled at you like that—dangerous and sweet, like he already knew what you tasted like.

but you stayed. frozen in your seat, trembling, helpless.

yeonjun leaned back, dragging his palm down his chest, over his stomach, slow enough to make you whimper.

"you know," he said, voice dropping, "i've been saving something… just for you."

he reached under the desk and pulled out something unexpected—not just a toy, but a miniature torso made of soft, rosy pink silicone, barely the size of his hands.

it was shaped like a woman’s lower half, smooth thighs tapering into the curve of hips, and right between them, the detailed, glistening folds of a pussy. obscene. delicate.

lewd in a way that made your stomach twist. the soft rubber glinted under the light as he turned it in his hand, spreading lube over it like he was preparing you instead.

a thick stream of it spilled out—over his hand, over the soft pink opening of the toy, dripping lewdly.

your breath caught.

he grinned lazily at your silence, clearly enjoying the way you were glued to the screen.

"thought about using it a couple times," he murmured. "but it didn’t feel right without you here."

your thighs pressed together, trying uselessly to ease the heavy, aching heat between them.

your mouth went dry.

he groaned under his breath, squeezing some over his own cock. it was already hard, thick and flushed red at the tip, veiny and heavy between his thighs.

your whole body clenched at the sight of it.

yeonjun caught the way you froze.

he chuckled, low and warm.

"you like watching, don’t you?" he teased, voice velvet-soft. "such a dirty little thing, just sitting there all quiet for me."

you couldn’t even type back. your hands were gripping the edge of the desk, knuckles white.

he slicked himself up slowly, deliberately, hissing as his fingers wrapped around the base.

then he grabbed the toy.

"gonna pretend it’s you," he said, smiling in that way that made your head spin. "gonna fuck you so good, baby."

he eased the tip of his cock into the toy, slow, teasing.

the lube made everything shine under the dim light, making it look so wet, so messy.

a broken moan left his mouth as he pushed deeper.

"fuck..." he whispered, hips twitching. "you'd feel so fucking good around me."

he started moving, thrusting lazily into the toy, one hand gripping it tight, the other braced against his thigh. his head dropped back, lashes fluttering, mouth parting on soft, desperate sounds.

your name fell from his lips like a prayer.

"babygrl," he moaned, hips stuttering. "wish you were here... wish you’d let me hear you."

you pressed your thighs together harder, trembling, burning with need.

he moved faster now, fucking the toy like it was real—like it was you.

the wet sounds were filthy. obscene. echoing through your headphones like he was right there in the room with you.

"bet you’d be so tight," he panted, thrusting harder. "all hot and wet for me… fuck, i’d ruin you."

he gripped the toy tighter, biting down on a groan.

you watched every second—hypnotized, devastated.

watched his hips buck, watched the muscles in his arms flex, watched the way his stomach tensed up when he got close.

he didn’t look away from the camera once.

he fucked that toy like he was making love to you.

slow, deep, passionate.

like you were the only thing he ever wanted.

your chest heaved with every breath, nipples aching, panties soaked beyond salvation.

and when he finally shuddered, spilling hot and thick into the toy, moaning your username again in that wrecked, desperate voice—

you knew you were already ruined.

he slumped back in his chair, panting, hair a mess, lips swollen and wet from how hard he’d been biting them.

and then—

he smiled at you. soft. sweet. devastating.

"thanks for staying with me, baby," he whispered.

the screen went dark a few seconds later, leaving you staring at your own reflection, wrecked and trembling.

alone.

but never lonely again.

you hadn’t gone back.

not because you didn’t want to.

god—you did. more than anything.

but it was too much now.

something had shifted in you after that night. after watching him fuck that toy like it was yours—moaning your username like it was sacred, like he needed you to breathe.

you couldn't stop thinking about it.

the way his hand moved. the way his voice cracked when he came. the way he smiled right before the screen went black.

he ruined you, and he didn’t even know it.

you tried to forget him. muted the notifications. ignored the replays. avoided even opening the app, like a coward. like a girl who couldn’t trust herself not to break down and need again.

because now when you thought about him, it wasn’t just lust—it was hunger.

two weeks passed.

you didn’t watch a single live.

but you did think about him. in the shower. in your bed. in the quiet moments when no one was around. and every time, you pressed your thighs together and tried to chase the ghost of his voice in your head.

you thought you were safe. that this distance would protect you.

until the dm.

at first, you didn’t believe it. you were half-asleep, phone in hand, thumb swiping lazily through random memes—until the little red dot appeared in your inbox.

no one ever messaged you. even though you were kind of known in his chat, everyone respected the line. no dms. no creepiness. everything stayed inside the stream.

but this—this was different.

you opened it slowly, heart thudding.

yawnzzn [11:32 PM]: been kinda sad u haven’t joined the lives lately :( miss seeing ur name pop up every night.

your heart stopped.

it was him.

he messaged you first.

and now everything inside you was heat and panic and that same damn ache he always left behind.

you stared at the screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, your whole body on fire from just one line.

he missed you.

he noticed you.

and worst of all—he cared.

you stared at the screen for what felt like an hour.

your thumb hovered over the keyboard, mind racing, heart hammering. he’d messaged you. yeonjun—yawnzzn. the boy you’d been secretly watching for months, who moaned your username like a lover, who made you cum more times than you could admit.

and now he was in your inbox. waiting.

you breathed in, deep and shaky. then finally, you typed. slowly. carefully.

you [11:46 PM]: i’m sorry i disappeared… i’ve just been feeling a little overwhelmed lately.

your chest felt tight when you hit send.

you almost didn’t expect him to answer right away—but less than a minute later, the typing bubble popped up.

yawnzzn [11:47 PM]: overwhelmed? like… because of me?

your face burned.

fuck.

you should’ve lied.

but maybe it was the way he asked it—gentle, teasing, soft.

you hesitated for a second, then typed again. a little braver.

you [11:49 PM]: yeah. i think watching you became… a little too much for me.

you hit send before you could regret it.

then added one more line.

you [11:49 PM]: you make me feel things i don’t know how to deal with.

there was a long pause.

long enough to make your stomach twist. long enough for you to want to unsend everything and run.

but then:

yawnzzn [11:53 PM]: …fuck. that’s probably the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.

your breath hitched.

yawnzzn [11:54 PM]: i thought maybe i was imagining it. the way you looked at me. how you never talked but always stayed until the end. i always felt like… you were watching differently.

you swallowed hard, heart in your throat.

yawnzzn [11:54 PM]: can i ask what it is exactly i make you feel?

his words lingered on your screen, sweet and dangerous.

you could lie.

or you could tell the truth, even if it made your skin burn and your thighs clench and your whole body betray you.

you told him.

typed it all out, trembling fingers and flushed skin—how much he turned you on. how just watching him made you ache. how you’d touched yourself to the sound of his voice so many times it scared you.

he didn’t tease you.

he just replied:

yawnzzn [12:02 AM]: you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to hear that from you.

the next night, he asked if he could call you. just for a second. just to hear your voice.

you hesitated. but then said yes.

the screen lit up with his face—hoodie on, smile soft, and it was dark in his room.

you couldn’t show your face right away.

your camera stayed off while you whispered hello.

you expected him to sound different. more confident. more teasing.

but he didn’t.

he sounded gentle. nervous. warm.

“can i see you?” he asked softly. “just a glimpse?”

your heart pounded as you turned your camera on. you were in a hoodie. no makeup. hair a mess. you hated the way your stomach twisted.

but he smiled.

really smiled.

“wow,” he whispered. “you’re… so much prettier than anything i ever imagined.”

you only lasted five minutes before you panicked and hung up, stammering out an apology.

he didn’t push you.

he just texted:

yawnzzn [12:28 AM]: you looked beautiful. thank you for letting me see you.

the days after that were soft. messy. hot.

late-night texting turned into slow, sticky sexting.

he’d ask if you were touching yourself. you’d ask what he was wearing. sometimes, he’d send you voice notes, low and breathy, moaning your username until you were whimpering into your pillow.

eventually, he asked to see you again. in person this time.

you said yes.

but something about it scared you—the way your heart twisted at the idea of being real to him. what if you weren’t enough?

and then, the idea.

he texted you in the middle of the night:

yawnzzn [1:03 AM]: what if we did a stream together? i could blur your face. or you could wear a mask. sunglasses. anything. i just want them to see that i’m finally fucking the one person i actually wanted.

your heart stopped.

you said no, at first. embarrassed. shy. it felt too raw, too exposing.

but that night, in the dark, with your hand between your thighs and his voice playing in your head, you imagined it.

imagined being on his lap. riding him in front of the same camera that once made you weak. imagined hearing him moan your name into your neck while the whole world watched.

you texted him at 2:11 AM.

you [2:11 AM]: i’ll do it. but only if i wear a mask.

his room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of his monitor and a red led strip that cast everything in that deep, sinful color. your silhouette, perched on your knees between his thighs, looked unreal—masked, trembling, mouth parted in anticipation. he was already hard, the thick outline of his cock pressing against his grey sweats, and the stream had barely started.

yeonjun leaned back in his chair, lazy smirk on his lips as he brushed a thumb across your cheekbone.

“they’ve been begging for this,” he murmured low, his mic catching every syllable. “but they don’t get you. i do.”

your fingers tugged at the waistband of his sweats, dragging them down with teasing slowness. the chat was explodingalready—hearts, donation pings, horny messages flying too fast to read.

his cock sprang free, hard and flushed and leaking, and you didn’t waste time—your lips wrapped around the head while he hissed through clenched teeth.

“fuck—yes, baby. just like that,” he moaned, voice rough and trembling.

you bobbed your head slowly at first, tongue circling the tip, making sure to be loud about it—each wet suck and messy slurp caught by the mic, echoing through the stream like the soundtrack to a dream. he groaned and held your hair back, letting everyone see the way your lips stretched around his cock, eyes glossy behind the lace mask.

“look at her,” he murmured, gaze flicking to the camera. “taking it so good, like a perfect little slut. you’re so fucking pretty like this, baby.”

you moaned around him, the vibration making his thighs twitch. spit dripped down your chin as you took him deeper, and he let out a breathless chuckle.

“they wish they were me,” he said, licking his lips. “but only i get to feel this mouth. only i get to fuck it raw.”

you choked a little when he gently thrust into your throat, but you didn’t stop—you loved it. you loved knowing thousands were watching you drool and gag around him, craving something they could never have.

he pulled you up by your arms, lips crashing onto yours in a messy kiss. his cock was wet between your bodies, twitching, desperate.

“get on my lap,” he growled, voice thick with need.

you straddled him, one hand guiding him to your entrance as you slowly, so slowly, sank down.

the stretch was unreal, every inch of him filling you up, and you both moaned into each other’s mouths.

“oh my god,” you gasped, hips rolling instinctively.

he grunted. “fuck, baby… fuck, you’re tight—been dreaming about this cunt since the first time i saw your name in my chat.”

your hands clung to his shoulders, bouncing gently on his cock as he held your waist and thrust up, hard and deep.

“yeah? you like showing them what they can’t touch?” he panted. “you like knowing they’re all jerking off to you being mine?”

you nodded, dazed, flushed all over.

“say it,” he growled, slapping your ass.

“i’m yours,” you whimpered. “all yours, yeonjun…”

“that’s fucking right.”

he adjusted the camera angle, making sure it caught your pussy swallowing his cock over and over as you rode him in a rhythm that made your thighs shake.

“fuck, baby, i can see how wet you are,” he groaned. “dripping down my balls—look at this mess. they’re fucking jealous, huh?”

you moaned loud, thighs burning, your mask slipping slightly but you didn’t care—you were too far gone.

he dragged you up, twisted your body so your back was against his chest, legs spread wide as he pistoned up into you.

your head dropped back onto his shoulder, a string of helpless cries leaving your lips.

he reached down, thumb circling your clit fast and tight.

“you gonna cum like this?” he panted in your ear. “with all of them watching? gonna cream on my cock while the world sees who really owns this little pussy?”

your body jerked, climax rushing over you in a tidal wave of heat and noise, clenching hard around him as he grunted and chased his own.

then he flipped you over onto the desk, bending you forward, ass up for the camera.

“still not done,” he murmured, slipping back in. “they’re gonna watch me fill you up.”

he fucked you hard, fast, raw. each thrust loud and wet, your body shaking, hands gripping the edge of the desk.

“so tight, baby—gonna cum so deep—gonna knock you the fuck up on stream, yeah?”

“yes, yes, please—cum in me, yeonjun—fuck, i want it—”

he groaned, shuddering, cock pulsing deep inside as he came, buried to the hilt.

and right before he reached over to end the stream, he leaned in, kissing your masked cheek.

“mine,” he whispered.

then the screen went black.

but your moans still echoed in the dark.

[skiiyoomin]

ღSending them horny memes

ʚContent: SMUT CONTENT Use of "good girl",sub! Soobin (kinda), swearing

⤑Back to navigation ⤑The aftermath, part 2

a/n I've been shaking in my boots just to start writing for TXT again

[nichoswag]

🌱 - soft intimate moments with txt

[pairing] bf!txt x gn reader

[warnings] lots and lots of fluff, kissing

[song rec] 20cm - tomorrow x together

🌱 - yeonjun

holding hands in crowded spaces so he knows you’re with him. sweet goodbye kisses after he walks you to your door. a hand on your waist while he grabs something you can’t reach in the kitchen. sad teary cheer-up kisses when you cry.

🌱 - soobin

shy cheek kisses in public. matching animal face masks on skincare sundays. shoulder massages after a stressful day. spontaneous road trips to get away from everything for a weekend. sweet morning kisses to wake you up for work.

🌱 - beomgyu

smearing frosting on each others faces while eating a sweet treat. tickle fights during movie nights. watching silly youtube videos to fall asleep together. gentle but tight embraces while being reunited after a while.

🌱 - taehyun

laying on his chest cuddling after a long day. holding your purse for you to take the weight off your shoulders. soft, gentle make-out sessions after a disagreement. sitting on his lap while he plays video games to give him kisses when he wins (or loses).

🌱 - huening kai

mirror selfies with his face hidden in your neck. giving you plushies he bought because they reminded him of you. playfully tickling you when you tease him in front of the members. making matching ugly beaded necklaces neither of you ever take off.

©nichoswag | do not copy my work or repost onto any other platform.