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zaynessbeloved · 2 months ago

Text

Tipsy, hard and needing you

Synopsis: Rafayel doesn’t drink often...but when he does, he drinks to forget how much he misses you. After one too many glasses and one too many thirst-heavy messages, you find yourself in his studio, still in your scratched-up mission uniform. He’s flushed, needy, and harder than he has any right to be. And his drunken mind can conjure one thing, and one thing only: showing you just how much he missed you.

Content warnings: Explicit sexual content, established relationship, rough drunk sex, desperate whiny begging, body worship, bratty dynamics, dominance/submission themes (soft switch energy), marking, fingering, oral sex (receiving), size kink, overstimulation, intense eye contact, dirty talk, alcohol consumption (consensual), rafayel sending a suggestive pic/public teasing (prelude), rough handling, cockwarming mention, possessive behavior, mild obsession, emotional vulnerability, and unprotected sex.

Pairings: Rafayel x reader

Word count: 7k

A/n: i am insane because he has so many 4star memories of him being tipsy (implied) so i had to write a lil something on how i personally see him being tipsy/drunk. this is just my personal take, enjoy! <3

The mission isn’t long, but it’s exhausting. Your arms are still sore from holding your weapon too tight, and there's a smear of Wanderer dust clinging to your boot. You want nothing more than to peel off your jacket, throw your comm onto the charger, and melt into your bed.

Your phone buzzes. And then again. And again. You don’t need to check the name, you already know who it is. The first few texts are nothing new.

Rafayel: i’m dying Rafayel: this canvas is my mortal enemy Rafayel: come eulogize me, cutie. bring wine

Dramatic, as always. But then the tone of his messages shifts.

Rafayel: need you Rafayel: no seriously. i need you Rafayel: i’m not even being poetic this time

You pause mid-step, boots clicking to a halt in the middle of the quiet sidewalk. Another buzz.

Rafayel: come ruin me. please.

Your heart stutters, because the following message is a photo. Your breath catches the second you see it. He’s shirtless, which, fine, isn’t unheard of—Rafayel has never been shy about his body, and he always knows exactly what he’s doing with that silver chain and half-lidded stare.

But this isn’t aesthetic. It’s desperate. His hair’s messy, mussed from his own hands. His chest is flushed, and the angle is a little off, like he tried multiple times and gave up. One arm is stretched above his head, the other lazily gripping the waistband of his sweats. Low, way too low.

There’s a hint of ink from one of his recent tattoos, the glint of chain, the barest shadow of want.And the message underneath the picture?

Rafayel: if you don’t come over i might start painting with my dick. your choice.

You don’t even laugh, you just pick up the pace. You’re half-jogging now, mission forgotten, boots pounding against the pavement. Because Rafayel doesn’t get drunk easily, not unless he’s trying. And he doesn’t beg. Not like this. Not unless he’s completely unraveling.

You fire off a single reply as you duck into a side alley and cut through toward his studio

You: Don’t you dare start without me, Raf

His reply is immediate.

Rafayel: hurryyy. i’m so hard it hurts. also i think i might have tried making soup and almost burnt the kitchen down???”

You don’t know whether to groan, blush, or sprint faster. Probably all three.

You don’t even knock when you come to a halt in front of his door. You’re too far gone for that. Too wired from the rush of his texts, the photo seared into your brain like a brand, the idea of him hard and messy and waiting for you.

The studio door swings open before your knuckles can reach it, and there he is. Rafayel. Shirtless, barefoot, flushed from the chest up, hair a mess of tangled curls, one side of his sweatpants riding dangerously low. There’s a line of color creeping across his collarbones, the telltale shimmer of sweat glistening beneath silver chains. And, oh…he’s hard. Very hard. Painfully obvious under the thin fabric of his pants.

He opens his mouth, but you’re already grabbing him by the front of those pants and yanking him forward into a kiss that shatters whatever clever line he was about to deliver.

He gasps into your mouth, stumbling slightly, both of you nearly crashing into the frame of the door. His hands fumble at your hips, gripping too tight, a little frantic.

“Getting straight…” he pants, voice thick, breath hot, “…to the point, huh?”

You groan against his lips, tugging him deeper inside, one hand already tangled in the damp strands at the back of his neck.

The door slams shut behind you but neither of you cares, really. His mouth tastes like vodka and heat and desperation—like Rafayel, but unfiltered. His tongue licks into yours with messy abandon, too much and not enough. He moans when your teeth scrape his bottom lip, then pulls back just enough to look at you, breathing hard.

“You’re…” His hand brushes the rough fabric of your uniform, and he squints. “You’re still in your hunter gear?”

“Obviously,” you mutter, panting. “You couldn’t wait?”

His brows furrow, soft and tipsy. “Shit. Did I interrupt something? You were on a mission, weren’t you?” His hand ghosts over a dirt-smeared scrape on your arm, slow, almost guilty.

You kiss him again, hard. “Don’t care.”

He makes a sound that’s half whimper, half relief. And then his fingers start tugging at your jacket, clumsy and insistent.

“Well then…” he murmurs, lips brushing yours, breath thick with heat and vodka. “It’s getting hot in here, don’t you think?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Just starts peeling the jacket off your shoulders, dragging it down with exaggerated care, eyes locked on every inch of skin he reveals like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you.

You break the kiss as he pushes you backwards, deeper into the studio apartment section of his loft. Canvases and crushed tubes of paint blur in your periphery as your boots stumble over the rug.

“Raf,” you whisper between kisses. “Why are you drunk?”

He presses his forehead to yours, lips brushing lazily at the corner of your mouth, still breathing hard. “Tell me…” his chuckle is low, wicked. “…should I be a good, honest boy? Or should I play hard to get?”

You groan, rolling your eyes so hard your head tilts back, exposing your throat to him. He takes the bait immediately. His lips latch onto your skin, hot and desperate, teeth grazing just enough to make you shudder.

“God, even drunk you’re insufferable,” you mutter.

“And yet,” he pants, “you’re here.”

You drag your hands down his chest, nails leaving faint trails over his flushed skin. He groans again, deeper this time, and it vibrates through his chest like thunder under silk. Drunk Rafayel isn’t loud. He’s needy. Whiny, flustered, and just this side of unhinged. And you haven’t even undressed yet.

Your hands find the hem of his sweatpants as you kiss him again, just barely brushing beneath the waistband, the faintest tease of fingertips over heated skin. He gasps into your mouth, then groans, deep and needy, when your nails scrape softly just under his hips. You pull him with you as you both stumble backward, his footing a little clumsy, until his back hits the edge of the kitchen counter.

The moment jars him, just enough to bite at the fog in his mind. He leans there, flushed and panting, eyes half-lidded and gleaming like molten purple under the dim studio lights. Behind him, a bottle of alcohol, nearly emptied, sits beside a forgotten glass, the rim still coated in a faint pinkish smear from his mouth.

You glance at it, frowning slightly. “Why’d you drink so much?”

He doesn’t answer at first, just breathes, or more like pants, trying to regain some sort of self control because he can still feel your fingers beneath the hem of his sweatpants. And then slowly, softly, his fingers curl at the edge of the counter as his head tilts.

“Miss Bodyguard,” he murmurs, breathless, voice slurring playfully, “touching me wherever is rude.”

You raise a brow, lips quirking. “You’re saying that right now?”

But there’s no bite in your voice because beneath the teasing, you see him. His face is flushed to the ears, hair damp at the temples, sweat slicking down the curve of his neck. And his eyes, god…his eyes are drowning in something deeper than just alcohol.

He swallows slowly, lifting those stormy eyes to yours.

“I missed you,” he whispers.

You blink, heart lurching.

“I know it was just a few days,” he continues, voice hoarse, trembling at the edges. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. All day, every minute.” He lets out a half-laugh, self-deprecating, breathless. “I tried painting. I tried walking. I even tried folding laundry, which—don’t look at me like that—but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop wanting you.”

Your heart squeezes so hard it hurts. You knew Rafayel was intense—loved intensely, wanted fiercely. But this? This is raw, cracked open and so honest.

He’s still leaning against the counter like he’s trying to hold himself upright. You close the distance, fingers still flirting with the band of his sweats, but now it’s softer, less teasing, more grounding. His hands twitch at his sides.

“Raf…” you breathe.

He doesn’t answer, not with words. Instead, he drags you into another kiss, deeper now, hungrier. You press into him, one hand sliding up his bare chest, the other still dancing just under the fabric at his hips.

His head falls back with a ragged gasp as your mouth trails from his lips down the slope of his neck. You taste sweat, vodka, and the edges of desperation, and he shivers under your tongue.

“I think you need to go…” he pants, voice low and wrecked and just a little daring, “…a little lower.”

You smile against his skin, lips ghosting over his collarbone.

“Is that a request?” you whisper.

His hips twitch.

“That’s a warning.” he growls, breathless and already falling apart.

You smile against the curve of his neck. Not sweetly and definitely not innocently. No, you smile like you know exactly what you're doing. Because you do.

Your lips trail down the column of his throat, warm and slow, brushing over the slick heat of his pulse. He tilts his head to the side instinctively, giving you space, almost desperate to feel your lips on his flushed, sensitive skin. His breath catches, shaky and high, when your mouth closes over his collarbone, planting a few kisses, then sucking, just hard enough to bruise.

His hips twitch. You feel it, feel the tension and the desperation. He’s so hard now it must be painful, the heat of his cock burning against your palm where your fingers still tease, just barely dipped under the band of his sweats.

He groans, head knocking back against the cabinet behind him, chains clinking softly against his skin.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, touching me like this…” he whispers.

But you do. You press another kiss to his clavicle, then a mark just beneath it. “I missed you too,” you murmur against his skin. “Every second.”

His breath leaves him in a sharp exhale, like the words hit harder than he expected. His hands clench at the counter’s edge, knuckles white, body trembling from how close your touch is to what he wants. He needs you to touch him so fucking bad.

But you don’t move your hand, not yet. You pull back instead, just a little, enough to look at him. And fuck, the sight of him like this steals your breath.

Rafayel, flushed and ruined, his lips parted, throat marked red and blooming, hair falling wild across his forehead, eyes barely open, just enough to look at you like you’re the only thing tethering him to this world. His chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths. His sweats are tented so hard it’s almost obscene.

You don't even have to speak. You just watch him, his whole body radiates heat and want, and the look on his face is ruinuos, drunk on vodka and you.

His gaze falters under yours, then lifts again, wild and starving. His voice is wrecked when he speaks, low and teasing, but laced with something darker, more dangerous.

“Do not tease me,” he breathes. “If you keep looking at me like that…” he leans forward, just slightly, a tremble in his frame. “…I won’t show you any mercy.”

You smirk. And that drives him insane. His hips jerk, desperate for contact, but you still don’t move your hand. Your thumb brushes just along his hipbone instead, feather-light. The touch is teasing yet promising underneath.

Makeout sessions with Rafayel are always like this—heady, breathless, intense. Full of moans and shivers and pretty bruises. Because when he touches, he touches with everything he has. And you know that. You know what he’s capable of in bed. You’ve felt it, how he unravels you like a masterpiece he painted himself—slowly, deliberately, with obsession bleeding into every stroke.

Which is why now…you’re not giving him exactly what he wants. You want to keep him tethering on this very edge of madness just a little longer. The thought of what that will make of him makes you so wet, and you mentally hold yourself to the promise of him ruining you later on. As he never fails to do.

You kiss him again, harder this time, deeper, and his whole body reacts. One of your hands slides up, threading into his hair and tugging just enough to make him groan into your mouth. He doesn't grip the counter anymore. Now it’s you he holds onto, the side of your neck, the back of your shoulder, your waist—desperate hands clinging like he's afraid you’ll vanish if he doesn't press you close enough.

His cock grinds against you, hot and aching, and he whines—low in his throat, helpless—when your hand still doesn’t wrap around him.

He’s burning for you, desperate for your touch, and you know it.

Your breaths mingle, thick with alcohol, lust, and the kind of hunger that makes your knees weak. You can taste the vodka on his tongue, sweet and sharp and drowning in need. And you’re drunk on it, on him.

Finally, finally, your fingers dip lower beneath the hem of his sweats, just a little. Your knuckles brush the thick, hot length of him and he moans into your mouth.

“Someone’s intentions,” he pants, voice shaking, playful but desperate, “are as clear as day.”

You smile against his lips and pull back just enough to start trailing kisses down his neck again. His head falls back with a ragged exhale, eyes fluttering shut.

“Don’t stop,” he gasps, “keep going.”

You do. You kiss his throat, his collarbone, the chain that dips between his flushed pecs. His chest is warm and sticky with sweat. His hands grip your hair, but not to guide, just to feel you, to hold onto something.

And then you drop to your knees. The motion is smooth, controlled, and so deliberate. He looks down at you like he’s been struck by lightning. You glance up, hands slow and gentle as they curl at the waistband of his sweats. His breath hitches as you drag them down, kissing along the trail of skin you expose, until finally he’s bare in front of you.

His cock is very hard, leaking, flushed red and aching, begging for attention. Begging to be touched, to find release. But still, you don’t touch.

Your eyes lock on his.

“You’ve been such a good boy,” you murmur, voice soft and sinful. “So honest with me. Now tell me…”

Your nails trace up the inside of his thigh. “…how did it feel? Missing me these past few days?”

His jaw clenches.

“Did you think about me?” you ask, lips ghosting over the crease of his hip. “Did you touch yourself?”

His entire body shudders. His hands tighten in your hair, and his cock twitches in front of your lips, but still, you wait, watching him unravel. Waiting for him to break.

For a second, he just stares down at you silently. You see it in his eyes, the hesitation, the pride, the fragile ribbon of restraint he's always trying to keep from unraveling. But then he exhales, deep and shaky, and lets it go.

“I thought about you,” he admits, voice hoarse, chest rising and falling. “Every night. Every damn time I closed my eyes, I saw you, cutie.”

Your eyes glint, lips hovering right near the base of his cock. His hips twitch forward, subtle, like his body is betraying his mind, again.

You tilt your head, breath teasing against flushed skin. “And?”

He swallows hard.

“I touched myself thinking of your mouth,” he breathes, a flush creeping up his chest. “More than once. I imagined this…you on your knees, looking at me like this.”

Your tongue flicks out in one long, slow lick from base to tip. He gasps, head tilting backwards, and you hum—low, sweet, satisfied.

“You’re such a good boy,” you purr, lips brushing the underside of his cock as you speak.

Another lick, slower now, around the tip, then back down.

He moans, and you can feel his whole body shudder. You lock eyes with him as your tongue moves, again and again. You take your time, tracing him with reverent cruelty, just enough pressure to make him shake.

He grips the edge of the counter behind him, knuckles white.

“Fuck…” he pants, voice cracking, “…cutie, I—I—”

You lick again, this time with more pressure, swirling your tongue just beneath the head. His breath punches out of him. His eyes flutter and his head falls back in pure pleasure.

“Oh my god—” he groans, the sound full of broken want, “please…”

That’s when you finally wrap your lips around him. Just the tip, but it’s enough to make him go insane. He gasps so hard it’s almost a whimper.

Your mouth slides down—slow, sweet, maddening. You feel his hips buck slightly, chasing the heat, desperate to be deeper, and you let him. Because you love him like this. Messy. Needy. Yours.

Your mouth moves, pace steady and deep, tongue tracing the vein underneath as he throbs in your mouth. He moans again, long and low and wrecked, every sound of it tinged with alcohol and craving and utter devotion. His hands find your hair again, not guiding, just anchoring, because he’s barely standing.

And you don’t stop. Not when his hips start rolling. Not when he starts panting your name like a prayer. Not even when he chokes out something that sounds dangerously close to “I love you” under his breath, breathless and soaked in want.

Your mouth works him steadily, slowly—deeper with each glide, wetter with every moan that slips from his kiss-swollen mouth. You feel him twitch on your tongue, hear the desperate curse that falls from his lips when you hollow your cheeks just enough to make his knees buckle.

And still, you don’t stop. You relax into it, hands firm at his hips, your tongue tracing every inch you can reach, your throat swallowing every groan he offers you. Without words, you tell him exactly what you want. Lose control. Take what you need.

You feel it when he finally gives in. His hips begin to roll, rhythmic and frantic, the hand in your hair tightening. Not to force, never to force, just to anchor. Like he needs to hold onto something to keep from falling apart.

His head tips back. A low, broken moan escapes him, raw and breathless.

“Fuck—fuck, you feel so good,” he gasps, voice wrecked, thick with desperation. “I want you like this every damn day…”

Your tongue slides along the underside of his cock, and he chokes on a moan.

“I missed you so much—fuck…don’t ever make me miss you again,” he pleads, frantic now. “It’s not fair…you make me feel like this and then you’re just gone…”

You moan softly around him, the vibration making him stutter a thrust. His hips twitch forward, messy and aching.

“I can’t…I can’t, cutie, please…let me—fuck, let me finish—”

His head drops forward like the strength’s been pulled from his spine, his glassy eyes locking onto yours below him and that is what breaks him. The sight of you, kneeling before him, lips stretched around him, cheeks hollowed, eyes shining and so willing.

He lets out a sound that’s halfway between a sob and a curse. And then he thrusts forward one last time—deep, desperate—and comes. His whole body convulses, every muscle tensing as heat pours from him, his groan long and shattered, his fingers trembling in your hair.

You keep eye contact the entire time and you take all of it, every last drop. And when it’s over, when his body slumps against the counter behind him and his legs are still shaking, his chest heaving, he whispers something soft, breathless, stunned.

“…I think I just died.”

You smile and lick your lips as you rise slowly, warm palms tracing up the curve of his waist. His hand finds your jaw, the grip gentle but sure, and he pulls you up into a kiss that’s messy and hot and absolutely drunk with need.

He tastes himself on your lips and doesn’t care—if anything, it makes him groan louder, deeper, kissing you harder as his hands slide lower to your hips, clutching them like he’s starving for more, like the high of release wasn’t enough to dull the ache you left behind.

Somewhere between kisses and panting and hands roaming skin, he wiggles awkwardly out of his sweats the rest of the way, nearly stumbling. You catch him by the waist, laughing against his mouth, but he uses the momentum and spins you, backing you up until your spine hits the edge of the counter with a soft thud.

Now you’re cornered. Now he’s the one in control again. His mouth is on your neck before you can say anything—wet, open kisses trailing down your throat as his fingers tug at the buttons of your uniform shirt, clumsy but determined.

“You see, cutie…” he murmurs, voice breathless against your pulse. “You already made my life a beautiful, chaotic mess.”

The last button gives way, and he pushes the fabric off your shoulders, kissing down the center of your chest until he reaches your bra. He groans softly, brushing his nose against your skin as he mouths your breast through the fabric, fingers digging into your waist like he can’t get close enough.

You pant, fingers tangling in his hair again, head tipping back as your hips roll forward, brushing against his now half-hard cock resting heavy against your thigh.

Rafayel growls.

“I barely touched this,” he whispers, warm mouth brushing against your bra as he speaks, “and you’re already flushed.”

He kisses over the soft breast, slowly dragging his teeth along the edge, and you whimper. You are flushed, breathless now, and he knows it. He drinks in every gasp, every twitch of your body like it’s paint running down canvas.

“I missed you,” you gasp between pants, threading your fingers tighter through his damp hair. “God…I missed you so much, Raf. I would’ve come sooner, I swear, but—”

“Don’t care,” he cuts in, groaning into your skin. “You’re here now. You’re mine now.”

His kisses get rougher, hungrier, as his hands slide up your spine, finally touching you properly, and his mouth finds your collarbone, your throat, your shoulder, all the places he needs to mark.

His mouth never leaves your skin. Not when he slides his hands up your back. Not when his fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra—frantic, trembling, almost too clumsy with how drunk he is. But then it gives way, and he lets the straps fall, kissing down your throat, nipping the slope of your shoulder, like he needs to devour every inch of you.

Your bra drops somewhere on the floor, but his hands don’t stop. They hook under your thighs, gripping you tight and then he lifts. You gasp as he picks you up and plants you on the edge of the counter, the cool marble pressing against your bare thighs, shocking in contrast to the molten heat in his mouth.

He is still kissing your skin, still biting your neck and leaving matching marks for his own. He doesn’t even pause to catch his breath, just pants into your neck like he’ll drown if he stops.

And yet, he slows. He shifts the angle, presses soft bites just under your ear, kisses the same spot until your spine arches on instinct, begging for more. But he doesn’t move his hands, doesn’t touch you where you need him most. Just keeps teasing.

You whimper, arching your back again—an invitation, a demand—but all he does is hum against your skin, warm breath fanning over your throat like a confession.

“Silly girl,” he murmurs, chuckling against your pulse, his voice ragged and low.

You groan, rolling your hips forward. “Rafayel…”

Still, he doesn't move, he just sucks harder at your neck, his teeth scraping the shell of your ear.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” you whisper, breath breaking between frustration and arousal.

He laughs again, breathless, dazed, drunk on you.

“Yeah…” he pants, voice soft and cocky. “I am doing this on purpose.”

His hands finally slide up your ribs, palms hot and greedy, and then at last, he leans down and wraps his lips around your nipple. You moan, back arching hard, your fingers threading through his hair and holding him there as his tongue swirls, slow and sinful. His free hand drags down and slips beneath the edge of your uniform skirt.

But still, he doesn’t go where you want him. His hands only grasp at your thighs, caressing the soft skin just above your knees, then sliding upward in slow, possessive sweeps, fingers curling tight enough to bruise.

You shudder under his mouth, under his hands, under the weight of his teasing control. And he hums against your chest, smug and starved all at once. You arch harder into him, the curve of your back deepening as you press your chest to his mouth, your thighs tightening around his waist. Your hands stay tangled in his hair, desperate and pleading without words, because god…he’s still teasing.

His tongue swirls around your nipple in slow, wet circles, just barely flicking when he knows you want more. His hands are gripping your thighs, hard, sliding up to the edge of your panties beneath your skirt and then stopping.

“Rafayel,” you gasp, half-laughing, half-moan, the frustration laced through every syllable. “You said you missed me so fucking much…and now you’re bullying me?”

He groans against your chest, hips twitching where they press between your thighs. Sweat clings to his skin, flushed and shining in the low studio light. His silver chains stick to his neck and chest, tangling slightly as he lifts his face, breathless.

Then he bites lightly at the swell of your breast before meeting your eyes, voice wrecked and fond and maddening all at once.

“But you’re very, very cute right now,” he says, lips dragging against your skin as he speaks. “And I’m allowed to admire what I missed.”

You whimper. He moans again, this time into your mouth as he surges up to kiss you, devouring, hungry, his teeth scraping yours in a kiss that’s too messy to be sweet and too honest to be anything less than worship.

And then finally—finally, his hand slides under the edge of your panties and pushes them aside. You don’t even get to breathe. Two fingers slide into you, deep and unrelenting, and you moan into his mouth, the sound punched straight from your lungs as your body clenches around him.

He swallows it all—every sound, every gasp, every trembling exhale—kissing you deeper as his fingers start to move, slow at first, then harder. Slick. Hot. So fucking good.

You grip his shoulders now, your back arched against the counter, head tipping back as he pumps into you, his breath ragged against your jaw, his mouth dragging down your neck again. Your hips start moving without thought, chasing every curl of his fingers.

The world blurs around the heat building in your core, and Rafayel? He’s already drunk, already ruined, but he wants to see you break before he even thinks about stopping.

Your hips roll into his hand instinctively, chasing the rhythm of his fingers as they pump into you, slick and deep. You whimper as he curls them just right, and your legs spread wider on instinct, thighs trembling around his waist.

“Rafayel—ahh, fuck…”

He groans into your neck, mouth hot against your skin. His free hand clutches your hip now, grounding you, anchoring you to the counter as he fucks you with just his fingers, but it’s so much more than that.

He moves like an artist. Like he’s sculpting pleasure from the very deep center of you. And his mouth doesn’t stop—biting, sucking, trailing heat down your throat, over your collarbone, back to your chest.

“You always break so beautifully,” he whispers against your skin, voice rough with lust, soaked in alcohol and longing. “So flushed, so desperate…”

You moan, louder now, as his fingers hit that perfect spot inside you again. Your hands grip his shoulders tight, fingers digging into the sweat-slick muscle. Your thighs shake.

“Please,” you breathe, “don’t stop—don’t you dare…”

He laughs, low and breathless, and his pace quickens. The slick sound of his fingers inside you is obscene, wet and filthy and so fucking hot you feel your face burn with it. Your moans turn higher, sharper, punched out with every curl of his fingers, and he loves it. Loves you like this.

“Say it again,” he whispers in your ear, breath hot and desperate. “Say you missed me. Say you want me.”

“Mhm, missed you…oh, fuck, I want you—Rafayel, please…”

His teeth sink lightly into your neck and he growls against it. “Good girl.”

You fall apart around his fingers, whimpering, clutching at his arms like he’s the only thing holding you together. The heat’s building too fast—white and burning—coiling in your gut like it’s about to snap. And still, his fingers move. Still, his mouth wrecks you.

And still, he whispers, “Come on, cutie. Show me how much you missed this.”

The pressure inside you spikes—sharp, hot, unbearable. Every drag of Rafayel’s fingers feels like it’s made of fire, and you can’t take your eyes off him. His flushed face, sweat-slicked chest, dark hair sticking to his forehead. The way he looks at you while he ruins you, like nothing else exists.

Your body is trembling. Your hips are bucking into every thrust of his hand now. And he’s whispering filth in your ear, low and unrelenting, the kind of voice that makes your stomach flip.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he murmurs, licking up the side of your neck. “I can feel it…you’re clenching around me so tight—god, it’s perfect.”

“Raf—” You gasp his name like a prayer, your voice breaking.

He fucks his fingers into you harder, deeper, faster now. Every stroke grazing just right. Your thighs squeeze around his waist, your spine arches off the counter, and your head tips back as the wave inside you crests—sharp and wet and blinding.

“Let go for me,” he growls, voice breathless and wrecked. “Come, cutie.”

And you do. You cry out, thighs shaking violently around his hips, your hands clutching him, clawing at his back. Your walls spasm around his fingers as your orgasm slams into you, hard and messy and endless.

He doesn’t stop. He watches it all—eyes wild, jaw slack, drinking in the way your body falls apart for him. His fingers keep moving even as you whimper and twitch, overwhelmed and shaking.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he pants, voice full of reverence and lust. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come. Look at you…look at you.”

You moan, half-broken, half-pleading, and finally he slows. But only just. His mouth is everywhere now—pressing kisses over your jaw, your cheeks, your shoulder. His hand stays buried between your thighs, still feeling every twitch and aftershock.

“You’re mine,” he whispers raggedly, soft and deadly against your skin. “You know that, right?”

You nod, barely able to breathe, much less speak. You’re still catching your breath, body trembling, chest rising in frantic waves when his mouth crashes into yours again—a kiss more desperate than any before it. His hand hasn’t moved from between your thighs, and when his fingers stroke your oversensitive clit, your entire body jolts in his grasp.

“Rafayel—!” you gasp against his mouth.

He moans, muffled and low, as if he’s the one being undone, not you. But that’s always been the truth of it—every time he touches you, every time he brings you to the edge, he breaks with you. Falls apart in tandem. Wants you in a way that’s feral and emotional and frighteningly deep.

You know this rhythm. You know what he likes. And you know what’s coming. He lives to drag it out. To keep you trembling on the edge again and again, his control laced with adoration and hunger until you’re begging him to stop and begging him not to in the same breath.

But tonight… tonight he’s drunk. He’s missed you badly. He’s hard and flushed and not even pretending to be composed anymore. And you feel all of it.

His cock is pressed hot and firm against your thigh, twitching each time you grind closer. The thin fabric of your panties is soaked, pushed to the side, clinging to nothing. Every breath is a moan, every kiss tastes like vodka and sin.

You clutch his hair and gasp against his lips, trembling from the overstimulation, the heat, the need building all over again.

“I need you,” you whisper. “I need you, Raf. I need my lover. Please…I need you inside.”

He growls. That’s all it takes. Something inside him snaps. He grabs you hard, almost rough, pulling you into his arms. One hand still clutching your ass, the other around your back, dragging your mouth to his over and over again as he stumbles blindly through the apartment.

You giggle against his mouth as he stumbles into the wall, swears, and then keeps going.

“Where—?” you start to ask.

“Shut up,” he pants. “I’m taking you.”

You don’t argue, not when he makes it to the edge of the bed. Your bodies stay tangled in the heat of that kiss, standing at the edge of his bed, tongues dancing, mouths open and hungry. His hand stays locked around your waist, his cock pressed hard against your thigh, twitching with every pulse of your moans.

You gasp against his lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to reach down between your thighs. Your fingers hook into the edge of your ruined panties, dragging them down quickly, wet and wrinkled from everything he’s already done to you. They fall to your ankles, kicked away without thought. Your skirt follows, bunched and rumpled, shoved down and off. You’re flushed and shaking and so, so exposed.

Rafayel groans as he takes you in, still in your half-open uniform shirt, still breathless, trembling, and flushed from your last orgasm, and now bare from the waist down.

“Fuck,” he pants, dragging you back into a kiss, deeper this time, desperate. “Not fair. You’re gonna kill me, cutie”

You giggle into his mouth and he turns you, suddenly, his hands warm and firm on your hips. He presses his chest to your back, caging you in, his breath hot at your ear.

“I’m going to show you,” he murmurs darkly, “exactly how deep this goes. How fucking much it hurt to be without you.”

His hand slides up your spine, slow and deliberate, until it settles between your shoulder blades, and then he pushes you towards the bed.

“Bend over.”

You do—panting, moaning, letting him guide you forward until your hands brace on the edge of the mattress, fingers curling into the blanket. Your back arches, instinctively, your ass tilted perfectly for him.

He stands behind you, groaning like he’s lost his mind. And maybe he has. Because from this angle, you’re all flushed skin and damp thighs and trembling anticipation.

“God,” he growls, voice ragged. “You’re so perfect.” he palms your ass, carresing it. “My perfect girl.”

You shudder at the praise, moaning softly as your hips roll back once, begging. And of course—of course—he teases you more, because he can’t help himself. You feel his fingers ghost over your inner thigh, then pause, just before they touch where you need it so desperately.

“I guess Miss Bodyguard is still wet…” he drawls, voice lilting with mock surprise, smug and dark and hungry. “Tsk.”

He chuckles low in his throat as his fingers circle your clit once. You jolt, gasping, legs nearly buckling. And then he pushes in, all the way. You cry out, body arching hard, hands gripping the bed as his cock stretches you deep and fast, no warning, no patience.

It’s just him, just Rafayel, hungry and raw, claiming you, filling you, like he never stopped needing you. He groans behind you, loud and ruined, hips grinding against yours as he bottoms out. His hand stays pressed firm on your back, holding you there, keeping you open for him.

He doesn’t move at first. Just stays there, buried so deep inside you it feels like he’s part of your heartbeat, your breath, your very bones. His palm is still pressed to the curve of your back, keeping you arched just right, keeping you his.

And behind you, you hear it. That breathless, broken sound—half a moan, half a laugh.

“Fuck, cutie,” he murmurs, the words slurred with want. “You feel like home.”

Your hands tremble where they grip the bed, legs already shaking just from the stretch of him, from the pressure of being filled so full. You roll your hips back just slightly, and that’s all it takes.

He groans, and then he starts to move. Slow, at first. Deep, dragging thrusts that pull almost all the way out before he pushes back in again with force that makes the whole bedframe creak under your grip.

You cry out, mouth open, head falling forward as he sets the pace—not gentle, not tentative. Raw. He thrusts harder, faster now, the sound of skin on skin echoing around the room, wet and filthy and perfect.

“God,” he pants behind you, his voice deeper now, more serious than it ever is, even when sober. “I missed this…I missed you…”

His hand slides up from your back, wrapping around your waist, pulling you tighter into each thrust. You can hear how wet you are with every slap of his hips, can feel his body curl over yours, sweat slick, chest against your back.

“Every fucking night,” he groans into your shoulder, still fucking you, harder with every word. “I kept thinking about this…about you, ah…about your body… this pussy…”

You whimper, his words sending fire straight to your core, making your walls flutter around him.

He gasps. “Shit, cutie…do that again.”

You rock back, meeting his thrusts, and moan his name this time. He loses it. He slams into you once, twice, hard, his fingers digging into your hips.

“You drive me insane,” he breathes. “You fucking ruin me, cutie.”

“Rafayel…” your voice cracks, moaning, barely coherent. “Please…don’t stop—”

He doesn’t. He pounds into you, frantic now, hips relentless, every thrust angled to make you feel every inch of what you do to him.

The room is nothing but sweat and moans and the scent of sex and the low, breathless rasp of his voice murmuring, “Mine, mine, mine…”

Your moans fill the room like music—high, wet, breathless. Each time his hips slam into you, you gasp, and his name pours from your lips like a spell. You can’t even think. You can’t breathe without feeling him, every inch of him buried so deep, stretching you wide and perfectly.

He leans closer, his body pressing to your back, his breath hot against your neck, lips brushing your shoulder in desperate, half-mouthed kisses. Sweat slicks his chest, gluing it to your spine, and you feel how much he’s shaking.

And then his voice—hoarse and frantic, trembling with emotion he never hides well when it comes to you.

“Do you want me to go faster?” he pants, thrusting deep and slow for just a moment. “Huh, cutie? Tell me…tell me how you want me.”

Your head lolls back, the tension coiling hot in your belly, your arms shaking where they grip the bed.

“Yes,” you gasp, voice thin and wrecked. “Yes, Rafayel, faster—fuck, please…don’t stop—”

He groans, a full-bodied sound that tears from his throat like he’s breaking apart.

“You want me to ruin you again?” he rasps, speeding up his pace, each thrust now wild and relentless. “Wanna feel it for days?”

“Please—yes…oh my god…”

His fingers slide around your front, finding your clit with practiced ease. He circles it once and you wail, your body locking tight around his cock.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” he whispers, desperate now, breathless. “I can feel you… fluttering, gasping—mine.”

“Yours,” you cry, broken, gone. “Always yours—fuck, I can’t—”

“You can,” he snarls, drunk and feral now, hips slamming faster, deeper, perfectly brutal. “And you will. I’m not stopping until I feel you come again. I need it…I need you to feel me everywhere.”

You’re past words. Past thought. Every muscle in your body tightens as the edge hits again, full force, harder than before, shaking you from the inside out.

And he doesn't stop. Not when you start to tremble. Not when your voice breaks. Not when you scream his name and come hard all over his cock, body collapsing, arching, lost. He fucks you through it, breathless, moaning, yours.

“That’s it,” he gasps, eyes wild, lips parted. “That’s my girl—god, you’re so perfect.”

You clutch the edge of the bed like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. Your body is trembling, your skin burning, your mouth wide open as helpless moans spill out between every brutal, perfect thrust.

He’s still moving. Still buried deep inside you, cock twitching with every pulse of your orgasm. Still holding your hips like they’re sacred. Still panting like he might fall apart if he doesn’t keep feeling you.

“Fuck—fuck, Rafayel—” you cry, voice broken. “I can’t…I can’t, I’m so—”

But you don’t tell him to stop. Even through the overstimulation, even through the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes from how good it still feels—you don’t tell him to stop.

You whimper, loud and high and wrecked, hips jerking with each thrust, and through the haze, you reach back, grabbing his wrist, holding him to you.

“Show me,” you moan, desperate, breathless, trembling. “Show me how much you love me… ah, how much you missed this pussy…how much you need me.”

He breaks. Completely. With a shattered groan, he slams into you harder, losing his rhythm, his hips stuttering with frantic, messy thrusts. His head drops forward, lips parted against your back, sweat dripping from his jaw onto your shoulder.

“Fuck…fuck, cutie—I’m gonna…” he pants, voice rough and wild, “I’m gonna come—oh my god…I missed you, I love you…I need you—”

And then he comes. Your name is the only thing he says as he unravels—half-moan, half-grunt, worship on his tongue—his cock buried to the hilt as he pulses hard inside you. Hot. Wet. All of him.

He thrusts through it, whining against your skin, chasing every last wave of it until he finally collapses—chest to your back, arms wrapping around your waist, his weight holding you both together.

Silence falls. Heavy, warm, trembling silence. Your knees give out first. He catches you, barely, pulling you down with him to the floor, tangled in limbs and sweat and ragged, open-mouthed breaths.

You both just breathe. There are no words yet. Only the echo of his moans still ringing in your ears. Only the slick warmth between your thighs, the tremble in your legs, the whisper of his lips on your neck as he presses kiss after kiss to your skin like an apology and a vow.

“Mine,” he murmurs again. “Never letting you go, cutie.”

And you don’t argue, because why would you? Because you are his, and you always have been.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST HERE AND ON MY AO3.

.ᐟ✧ translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or other sites ARE NOT permitted. please do not ask. do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own. thank you!

taglist: @syluslittlecrows, @asiaticapple

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deep space #loveanddeepspace #lads rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #love and deep space rafayel #rafayel x mc #qi yu #rafayel lads #drunk rafayel #tipsy rafayel

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honeyhotteoks · 7 months ago

Text

across stardust - one (j.yh)

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you've never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he's so much more than a crush, he's your soulmate. one | two (section 1) (section 2) | series masterlist 🔗read on ao3 ✨ across stardust pinterest board

note: please enjoy this truly self indulgent romance. will be four five parts total, and i'll post each as soon as they are ready to go. happy comeback week, and i hope everyone enjoys this 💖

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, a lot of fluff and tenderness, love at first touch, shared feelings/emotions/physical sensations, anxiety/stress over what to do, reader's family isn't the best, kq is not the best company for the purposes of this fic!, light smut including - heavy makeouts/grinding, hand kink, size kink, phone sex, sexting, fingering, jacking off, dirty talk, praise, use of good girl, use of pet names like baby/jagiya/sweetheart. basically this fic is an excuse for me to write star-crossed desperate love so i would say it's the literal opposite of a slow burn lmao

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 17.9k

It’s eleven in the morning when your day starts, hiding in the green room of a concert venue in Berlin, and the day feels lost already. With Eunji and Dahan ill that only leaves you and Iseul to handle makeup for all eight members and with how exhausted you are from yet another night of little sleep, you don’t know how you’ll be able to keep up. You’re trying to stay awake, but while the members are all out on stage learning their marks and rehearsing the improvisational moments for this tour stop, the green room is quiet and you keep nodding off.

“Bad night?” Iseul’s voice startles you out of one of your dips into sleep and your body jerks up right.

“Fuck,” You breathe, “hey,”

“Here,” She pushes a bright can into your hands, an energy drink, “you need this.”

“I need to be sedated,” You grumble, taking it from her, “the time difference is never this hard,”

“Mm,” She shrugs, “it’s unpredictable,”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I guess.”

The thumping music outside as they run through another track is starting to give you a migraine. You take a long sip of the drink and then leave the can on the table in front of you, choosing instead to hide your face in the sleeves of your sweatshirt and let out another long sigh.

“Girl,” Iseul nudges you, “you look like shit. Your station looks like shit.”

“Thank you?”

“In thirty minutes we’re going to be busier than we’ve been since that Inkigayo stage for Answer,” She points out and you grimace at the reference. Back then it really was just a skeleton staff and one of the makeup artists quit on the spot, too stressed to continue the work and walking out in the middle of doing Yeosang’s foundation.

What a mess those old days used to be. Nostalgia sometimes makes you forget how late those nights were and just how impossibly tired you had been. This feels too reminiscent of that for sure.

Iseul taps your shoulder to get you to lift your face as she continues, “I know you’re tired, but I can’t do this shit on my own. I need you.”

“Okay,” You breathe, scrubbing your hands over your face to jolt yourself awake as best you can, “you’re right, I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be sorry,” She gives you a sympathetic smile, “I get it.”

This tiredness feels different though, so deeply ingrained in your body. Something’s been keeping your adrenaline running like a long, drawn out anxiety attack and you can’t understand it. You’ve been on tour before, you’ve been on planes, you’ve had long days, and you’ve worked with this exact group for years. There’s nothing on paper that should be making you so anxious, but the threads of it are humming in the deep back of your brain even now.

“Come on,” Iseul prompts again, pulling you to your feet, “let’s get you in gear.”

“Right,” You take another long sip of your energy drink and pray it starts kicking in soon and that the effects won’t make you feel crazier, “let’s do this.”

She helps you put your station together with ease and then pull yourself together. Within those precious thirty minutes of calm before the storm you’ve downed two cans of pure caffeine, assembled your station and strapped on your brush belt, and tried to make yourself some form of presentable by slicking your hair back into a smooth knot and adding a coat of lip balm.

As always, the boys have used the ladder game to determine hair and makeup order which means those at the bottom of the list have more time to relax fresh-faced on the couches before getting poked and prodded and wrapped up like presents for thousands of screaming fans. With only you and Iseul available it’s about to be a race against the clock to get them ready.

Their managers hustle them from the stage to the back rooms where the rest of the staff waits, and the members gather around you and Iseul and your makeshift makeup stations.

“Alright,” Iseul says as the members quiet down, “we’re down some staff as you know,”

They nod attentively and you trade a close lipped smile with Hongjoong.

“We’re just going to do the best we can as quickly as we can,” She explains, looking down at their names on a slip of paper, “Wooyoung, Yeosang, Jongho, San,” she recites, “you’re with me in that order.”

You run through the names on your slip, “Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Yunho, that leaves you with me.”

Iseul nods as you finish your words, “Please be ready to slot in when the person in front of you is finished, and then you can go directly to wardrobe for your soundcheck outfits,”

“We’ve got it,” Hongjoong nods, “and if there’s anything you both need,”

“We’ll be fine,” Iseul assures him, “but it’s definitely going to be cutting it close,”

“We should get started,” You cut in, “if you’re ready?”

Hongjoong jumps to your chair immediately and Wooyoung steps to Iseul’s, and before you know it you’re off.

The room is alight with activity while you both work, only you don’t have a relaxed pace and only two members to perfect. You’re used to working with Wooyoung and Seonghwa, they’ve been your assigned members for as long as you’ve worked with Ateez, but when staff shortages or timing gets tight, it can be a bit of a free for all.

You stay focused and execute each member’s makeup like a well rehearsed dance, and you do your best to ignore the buzzing anxiety in your veins. For a little while, you handle it like a professional.

When Yunho finally settles into your chair, about a single second after Mingi leaves it, the exhaustion careens back into you sideways. It takes you a minute to prep your tools this time, and you’re pretty sure that without the artificial pick me up of the energy drinks you’d be passing out on the spot.

You steady your hands against the vanity in front of you and take a deep breath, and when you look up you catch Yunho’s eyes in the mirror, a tiny crease of concern between his brows.

“You okay?” He checks.

You give him a smile, albeit a tired one, “The jet lag is really hitting this time,” you explain, “but I’m fine,”

He looks sympathetic immediately, “Same for me, I feel like I’m barely sleeping,”

“That’s not good,” You tell him as you prep your stainless steel palette, “you have a long night ahead,”

“I’ll sleep tonight,” He says, “I’m sure,”

“After dancing for three hours I’d hope so,” You smile and pick up your first set of tools before turning towards him.

“Do you have anything you could take?” He asks, studying your face, “A sleep aid?”

“I usually don’t like to,” You admit, “I always feel groggy the next day,”

“And we have another show,” He finishes for you, his lips coming together in a thin line as he thinks.

There’s nothing really for him to do, but it’s kind of him anyway to be so concerned. They always are, this rare group of eight idols who remember staff birthdays, bring coffee on the early morning schedules, and always, always take extra time to clean up after themselves so it’s not left to anyone else.

You take a step closer towards him and glance over his bare face and then it occurs to you, “You know what’s funny?”

“Hmm?” He tilts his face up to you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever done your makeup before,” You smile, it’s a ridiculous thought.

“No way,” He blinks, thinking back, “it’s been… forever, are you sure?”

You nod, “You’re usually with Eunji,” you tell him, “and even when we’ve swapped around, I don’t think so. I think you’re the only member I’ve never done,”

“Wow,” He laughs, eyes bright, “well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“Is there anything,” You start to ask him if there’s anything he prefers, anything special about his makeup that he gets done with Eunji that he asks for, but Iseul catches you idle as she pats foundation onto San’s forehead and answers for you.

“His skin gets dry,” She jumps in, “don’t use too much powder,”

Yunho grins, a laugh on his lips at the directness of her words.

“And don’t use that oil,” Iseul adds, “that primer oil you like, he’ll break out by tomorrow,”

“Thank you, Iseul,” Yunho says, and you watch San’s face as he stifles a chuckle.

“Noted,” You smile, and you swap out two of the products in your hands before taking up your position by his side again.

You’ve gotten used to working with idols, to working with Ateez and with Yunho specifically, and yet when you get this close a little flutter of nerves rocks through your belly. He’s handsome, and if you’re being honest he’s just your type. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or this weird feeling in your chest that you’ve been dealing with all week, but for the first time in a long time you think about what it would be like to kiss his lips.

“How do you want me?” He asks, breaking your thoughts, and you have to shake off the impending blush at the way his words make you feel. You have work to do, and you had gotten over your silly little crush on him years ago, you need to get a grip.

You recover fairly smoothly though with a quick smile, “Right,” he’s never worked with you before, and he’s looking to you for direction, “head back a bit, please, and eyes closed,”

“Alright,” He follows your instructions to the letter.

“Okay,” You tell him, “primer first. Let me know if anything bothers you,”

“Mhm,” He hums and stays relaxed.

He has the loveliest eyelashes, that’s the thought that echoes through your brain as you start working on him, and you wish it never occurred to you at all because you keep glancing up at his closed eyes. He lets you work, he knows you’re exhausted so he doesn’t push you for conversation, and you’re strangely grateful. You know he’s chatty sometimes in the chair, an extrovert through and through and always keeping Eunji company or talking with the member beside him, but right now he keeps still and gives you respite on a hard day.

You’re patting foundation into his skin with a large paddle brush when Iseul interrupts your thoughts, “Do you have that eggplant liner?”

“Check my table,” You offer, but with how sluggish your brain is feeling there’s no way you remember a single thing on your station without looking.

“Mm,” She pivots around and pokes through the products and tools behind you, and you glance over as San opens his eyes to watch Iseul rifle through things.

“Damn,” She mutters, “how much time do we have?”

“Um,” You glance down at your watch, “twenty?”

“Perfect,” She scoots behind you and disappears into the hall, no doubt to find your traveling makeup case and the liner.

You sigh, chewing the inside of your lip at the idea that you only have twenty more minutes, but you really don’t want to rush and have his makeup melt off on-stage.

“You’re fine,” San assures, his body angled towards you and Yunho now while he waits, “don’t worry about the clock,”

Yunho hums his agreement from below you, “Plenty of time,”

You refocus on Yunho’s skin and notice a long black and white hair from the paddle brush affixed to his cheek, mixed in with the foundation. You take the brush again, wiping off any excess foundation and checking to see if more fibers are loose, and then you work the brush against his cheek in an attempt to free the loose hair but it isn’t coming off easily. Every attempt you make just slides the hair into a different spot on his cheek and covers it with more foundation.

“Um,” You usually don’t like to do this, but you might have to, “can I just…”

His eyes open but his expression stays smooth, “Can you?”

“Sorry,” You shake your head, “do you mind if I touch you?”

“You already are,” He smiles, a small, amused crease between his brows you’ll have to pat out momentarily.

You tuck your brush away and gesture with your hand, “You just have a hair,”

“Oh,” He laughs, “of course, yeah,”

You’re just supposed to touch his cheek, brush away the hair with the pad of your finger and then get back to work, that’s all it is, so you’re completely unprepared for the feeling that rockets through your chest when your skin finally touches his.

Yunho gasps softly as your fingers brush over his cheek, his eyes blowing wide and his expression blanking, and it’s the only indication you have that he feels something too. A tightness wrenches in your chest, like someone pressed something hot and hard directly into your breastbone and your stomach does a somersault. Your ears are ringing, and you’re pretty sure your heart is about to beat out of your chest now that it’s started up again.

The tattoo on your chest feels warm beneath your blouse.

“You,” Yunho manages, his voice shaky and you know for sure he felt it too.

You rock back a step, “I don’t understand,”

“Shit,” Someone else says, and then you realize that it’s San and you’re not alone with the only other person in the entire world, you’re in the middle of work in front of at least one other person and it’s only your existence that just got tilted on its axis. Yours and maybe Yunho’s.

“Oh,” You glance to the side, taking in San’s wide eyed expression, “oh my God,”

“I’m not insane, am I?” Yunho smiles, his focus entirely on you, and you think you might just pass out, “You felt that?”

There’s a noise in the hall and San scrambles up to his feet, “Iseul,” he says heading for the door, “do you need help looking?”

He’s covering for you both, but thoughts are slow to form and all you can manage is blinking at the man in your chair.

“You did, right?” He asks again, eyes soft and hopeful, and then his fingers brush over the center of his chest. Squarely over his breastbone.

He’s yours.

You want to reach out and yank up his shirt, check the tattoo over his heart to see if it’s the same looping knot shape as yours, but you don’t need to see it to know for sure. It’s him.

San says something about forgetting the liner altogether, a little louder so you both know the room is going to get crowded again, and you shake your head to jolt yourself out of your paralyzed position.

“You didn’t?” His hand falls.

“I did,” You rush to correct, “I’m, I don’t know,”

He nods, wetting his lips and shifting in his chair. He moves to reach for you, but reason and sense click back into place immediately and you realize that no matter what your tattoo feels like and no matter what this means, you’re at work and about to have a very private moment in a very public place if you’re not careful.

You shake your head with a glance at his hand and jerk your head towards the door, “Later,”

“Right,” He leans back from you, “of course, right,”

Footsteps to your right draw your attention and Iseul is huffing, checking her own watch, “We’ll do brown,”

“That’ll be fine,” San assures her, but his eyes are glued on the pair of you.

Iseul moves to step around you again and realizes you’re just standing there, “What’s with you?”

“Sorry,” You manage, blinking hard and refocusing, “I just got dizzy,”

It’s not entirely a lie, given that you felt the entire earth shift under your feet thirty seconds ago and your life is completely changed. Dizzy is the least of how you’re feeling.

Yunho’s expression shifts immediately, concern across his face, and he curls his fingers into his palms to keep himself from reaching out again, from being too familiar.

“Oh,” Her eyebrows raise high, “do you need me to finish Yunho?”

“N-no,” You take a breath, “just give me one second,”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Yunho asks, and in the back of your brain you wonder if his voice has always sounded this good.

“Here,” San cuts in smoothly, cracking the seal on a fresh water bottle and passing it over to you, “do you need to sit a minute?”

San’s hand rests on your upper back between your shoulders as you take a long sip of water, the cold shocking your brain back to reality in exactly the way you need.

“Thank you,” You tell him honestly, “I think I’m okay, just a headrush,”

San nods, and when you refocus your eyes on Yunho, you almost laugh. His gaze is squarely on San’s hand where it sits on your back, and you watch the fast, silent exchange between the two men when San drops his hand and Yunho realizes his own reaction. He blushes, ears running red and he dips his head to avoid both your eyes.

“Iseul,” San steps around you both and distracts your friend, “ready to wrap?”

“Yeah,” She agrees, “let’s finish up. You’re sure you’re okay, y/n?”

“Mhm,” You hardly trust your own voice, but you nod anyway, “I’m good now.”

Yunho tilts his face back up as you step close, and the tension between you is so palpable and so familiar that you can hardly breathe. Your tattoo feels warm and heavy and something tells you that his does too, you can see it in the tenderness of his brown eyes.

“Dizzy?” He asks quietly, keeping his words just for you.

You shake your head, “No,”

“That’s good,” He murmurs, but he lets whatever words he wants to say rest on his tongue.

Your tattoo throbs and you don’t dare touch his bare skin again.

His makeup takes fifteen more minutes and his eyes don’t stray from your face the entire time. You barely finish on time, and wardrobe is standing by to get them into their first outfits of the night, so when you put the final touches on he’s already being pulled out of the chair before you have a chance to say anything.

You want to corner him and ask him exactly when he’ll have time to talk later, but despite working together for the last few years, you and Yunho aren’t that close. You’re friendly, but you’re not familiar enough to casually ask what he’s doing later and not have it seem strange. While friendships between staff members and idols are not discouraged, even between the opposite sex, being overly familiar or suggestive would certainly leave a question in everyone’s minds, and you don’t want to draw attention to yourself that quickly.

This is between you and Yunho, no one else. You don’t want an audience for this.

So he goes, pulled away by wardrobe and his other members, fitted quickly into his Soundcheck outfit. He has his game face on, so do all the members, and you watch him disappear down the hall without a second glance back at you.

You collapse into the couch and press your eyes closed, focusing on the singular feeling of heat and soreness from your chest.

A soulmate.

The tattoo on your chest was one you barely looked at anymore, too focused on living your life to sit in the mirror and wonder about the person who would be your other half, the person that would slot into the gaps in your spirit with a simple brush of skin on skin. But now, it aches. It pulses to remind you that it’s real and that you’ve found him.

Everything in your life is about to change. Has already changed.

On the couch you don’t sleep as much as you disassociate, still stunned, your buzzing brain filtering out everything Iseul says as she cleans up around you and preps both of your brush belts for touch ups. There’s such a small amount of time between Soundcheck and the concert that you barely get to process, you just exist, playing the moment you touched him over again and again in your mind. Despite how utterly changed you feel, the world is just continuing on around you like a regular day.

Once again, you and Yunho miss each other for every brief moment between Soundcheck and stage.

The shift happens in the wings, in the underbelly of the stage where you and the other staff members for hair, makeup, and wardrobe wait for any last minute quick fixes. The eight of them are almost ready, pumping themselves up between rows of technical equipment and stage scaffolding.

There’s so much commotion around you and yet your eyes are drawn to him like a magnet, the feelings you once had for him coming back to you full force in a blurry torrent.

He shifts, stretches, swallows hard, and then looks up directly into your eyes. There’s a question in them that you can’t read, but you manage to smile.

His shoulders relax just a little.

You raise your fist, giving him the gesture for ‘fighting’ and he returns it with a wide grin.

“Alright,” Hongjoong’s voice cuts through, the final step of their pre-show ritual as the concert hall starts to roar, “huddle up.”

The eight of them circle up with each other, one leg in and one out.

“We’ve practiced hard,” Hongjoong starts, patting his members on the back, “let that practice pay off, and have fun out there,”

“Okay!” San hypes them up, getting the tension high.

“Let’s give it our all,” Hongjoong continues, a wide smile on his face, “fighting!”

They echo it back, and a tense feeling starts to roll in your gut.

“Alright, one,” Hongjoong starts the count and you feel the tension in your own body rising, enough to make you take a soft step back from the group, “two,”

On three they chorus it, moving their feet in a synchronized step, “Eight makes one team! Fighting!”

They break apart, clapping each other on the back, and your eyes meet Yunho’s for one more fast second before he’s jogging after the rest of the members and finding his mark on the stage risers.

You feel the sensation of his eyes on you even after he’s gone. You have the length of four songs and their opening ments before members start swapping out on stage for makeup touch-ups and technical adjustments. The sound of the audience is intense, the start of the first song keying up, and you stumble back from your post to get a breath of air away from it all.

There’s a bathroom along the hallway two doors down from the green room that’s meant for staff and you blissfully find it empty. With shaking hands you flip the lock and sink down into a crouch, your back braced against the wall as you breathe through the sudden wave of feelings filling your chest.

Adrenaline, that’s what the bitter taste on your tongue is.

Your heart is thumping, double time like you’re running a marathon, and then you realize it. You can feel him, even now with the bond between you unfulfilled you can feel his emotions coming to you like a wave. Adrenaline, anxiety, euphoria, exhaustion, it all roils through you and you brace your hands on the wall to get your composure back.

They say the first time you feel your soulmate link it takes you by surprise, but this is an intensity you couldn’t have imagined. It’s all encompassing and honestly terrifying, and you’re struggling to understand which parts of you are you and which are him. You can’t conceive of how an accepted bond would make this feeling stronger when it already feels like your emotions and his are knit together so tightly.

Anxiety strikes down the link and you realize it’s not stage fright, it’s for you. He can feel your panic and your fear just like you can feel every ounce of his performance and if you don’t get yourself in check you’re going to be distracting him even more than you already are.

You yank yourself up off the floor and collapse against the sink, turning on the cold water tap and taking slow and steadying breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Counting slowly, relaxing your body with every pulse of oxygen through your system. You hope he can feel it, but you have no idea how this all really works. You’ll have to call your sister when this is all said and done, find out what she felt when she met her wife, but right now in this bathroom in Berlin you have to do this by yourself.

You hear the pulse of another song thrumming through the stadium as they keep performing, and you feel the thundering beat of his heart in your chest, but you breathe into it this time and try to keep yourself calm for his sake. You splash cold water on your face, keep breathing low and slow, and eventually you pull yourself back up to standing tall to look at yourself in the mirror.

You look the same as you did a few hours ago, before him, but the warmth in your chest is still present and you wonder if that will ever go away or if that’s just a permanent part of the link.

With shaky hands you unbutton your blouse and pull your bralette down in the center to reveal what you already know is there. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight.

The tattoo nestled at the base of your sternum is the only one you were born with. Every other line of ink on your body was put there with intention, but this one you’ve had for as long as you can remember. The maedeup knot is small, but intricate, and until this moment it had always been colorless. Loops of black and gray twining together to make a rounded diamond, unbroken with no beginning or end to the threads.

Now the ink has changed, a deep red against your skin that makes the knotted josephin soulmark look even more traditional, but the skin is slightly inflamed, tender to the touch as you brush your fingertips along it. It feels like a fresh mark, not something you’ve had since birth, but considering how it’s changed, maybe it is new. A soulmark shifting color is common, you know that, but it still stands out so starkly against your skin and your other black tattoos. You can’t look away from it.

A pounding on the bathroom door makes you jump and you fix your shirt, covering the mark back up and buttoning it away. You wonder if Yunho’s mark is the exact same like other couples you know and if it too turned red, if it’s warm to the touch, if he felt you brush against your mark through the link.

“y/n?” A voice comes through the door and you shut off the tap.

“Coming!” You wipe the excess water on your hands onto your jeans and take one last, fast look to make sure your mark isn’t visible, before opening the bathroom door.

Wonshik, one of their many managers, is waiting for you on the other side. His eyes narrow when he sees you, “Are you ill?”

“No,” You assure him.

“You’re sure?” He presses, “We can’t afford to lose any more staff or risk getting the members sick if you are,”

“I know, Wonshik,” You nod, “I promise I’m just tired, jet-lagged. I was putting cold water on my face, that’s all. I’m not sick,”

He exhales in relief, his expression softening, “Thank God,” he says, “I can only take so many surprises.”

A little sickness is nothing compared to a staff member and an idol under a dating ban being soulmarked, but you hold your tongue.

“They’re about to come off,” He says, “Iseul was looking for you, she seems like she might start climbing the walls if you don’t get back to help her,”

“No, of course,” You start back towards the side stage entrance, “I lost track of time, but it won’t happen again,”

“Make sure you sleep tonight,” He adds, following you closely, “no sleep means no immune system, and no immune system means sick.”

“Don’t worry,” You promise, winding your way through the dark backstage, “you won’t lose me,”

“I better not,” He sighs, and then Iseul comes into sight.

“There you are!” She hisses low under her breath, “I was about to have a panic attack,”

“I’m sorry, I’m here, I’m good,” In the commotion, your brain starts to ease into normalcy. You’re used to this pace, the speed of lightning fast makeup touch-ups and assisting wardrobe when things start to go awry with their quick changes. The audience feels none of this, they just see smooth change-outs on stage and cool idols in new clothes, but backstage is a wild flurry and it always puts you on an entirely different plane of focus.

“Here we go,” A stage director starts, gathering everyone’s attention, “four minutes… starting…”

The stage goes dark and in the venue a video starts to play to the crowd to fill the space between costume changes. You prep your hands, making sure your kit is ready to go and you see the wardrobe specialists out of the corner of your eye readying themselves to help facilitate the quick change.

Suddenly they’re here, and the stage director interrupts once more, “Now, four minutes people, let’s go.”

“Mingi,” He gets to you first and he crouches down to drop his face to your height, “stay still one second,”

He says nothing, but he nods as you pat powder across his forehead and the bridge of his nose, checking him over for any other defects. He looks good and you nod, “Go, go,”

Mingi peels off to the left of you and you hear the sound of fabric swishing as he and Wooyoung rip off the top layer of their outfits behind the privacy screens and trade garments with the wardrobe team. It’s a fast shuffle, but you stay focused on who’s in front of you.

“Seonghwa,” You wave to him, pulling blotting tissues out of the pack on your belt, “here,”

He knows this drill well, you’re used to working with him and you have a clean routine down. He blots the sweat off his brow himself and starts to unbutton his jacket while you shift focus to Yunho.

For a split second you almost forget what happened earlier in the buzz of backstage, but the minute your eyes hold on his awareness floods you.

“Hey,” You say, but there’s a time clock shout behind you and you beckon him down, “come here, let me fix things,”

He drops down to your height just like Mingi did and stays steady while you work, but his eyes flick up, “You’re okay?”

“I’m good,” You nod, “don’t worry,”

His expression clears a little and you guess you have your answer about the feeling of the link going both ways.

Hongjoong clears his throat behind you both, “We’re short on time,”

“Am I good?” Yunho checks.

Your eyes flick over him fast, “Yep,”

He’s out of your eyeline a split second later, and you’re grateful for the distraction of both Hongjoong and Seonghwa, otherwise you’re sure you’d dwell a little bit too long on the fact that Yunho’s half naked next to you, privacy screen or no.

“One minute,” The stage director announces, “everyone’s doing great,”

The boys are almost done, flying through the last of their zips and getting their hair smoothed down by that team as they finish. You put the last pat of powder on Seonghwa’s nose and give him a nod before he’s gone too, dropping his jacket as he goes and giving you all a quick flash of his bare back.

You turn back towards the group as they prepare and your eyes zero in on Yunho again. His expression is serious, it’s his game face before he gets back out on stage, and you watch as he corrects the placement of his in-ears and ensures that his mic pack is secured. He runs through his pre-stage ritual and you can’t help but be a captive audience.

“Good work,” The stage director says as Seonghwa rejoins the eight, fully dressed and ready for stage, “fifteen seconds for act two,”

The crowd heats up again as the video starts to fade, and the members do their final checks. Yunho doesn’t look back at you once, his eyes forward and focused as he and the other members find their places on the rising platform that will take them back out to the main stage.

You can see him a little though, in the low light in his white trousers and blue satin shirt. He lifts his hand, adjusting his microphone once again, and then as he drops it back to his side he lets his fingers skim over the familiar hollow of his chest.

Your mark warms, you feel it as if it were your chest he brushed his fingers over, and your breath stops.

The platform rises, the crowd roars, and your heart starts beating to a new rhythm.

He really is yours.

It turns out that later means much later.

You manage to get out of dinner with some of the other staff members, but that just leaves you anxious and alone in a hotel room trying and failing to eat room service. Iseul would be back soon to take up her place in the other bed, and you’re starting to realize that you don’t have Yunho’s number.

Now that emotions are a little smoother, you can’t feel him. Or maybe you can, but it’s so faint that you’re not sure. All you know is that he’s definitely in the hotel, but that’s partially the solid feeling of your link with him and partially the YouTube live being broadcast from Seonghwa’s room where all of the members are.

You put the live on and watch, feeling strangely disconnected from the men on screen. You’ve known them for years, but suddenly with this new truth everything feels foreign and confusing.

You should call your sister, but it’s only six in the morning in Korea and even though this is an emergency of life altering and epic proportions, you can’t bring yourself to wake her on a Saturday.

You try your best to eat the pasta you ordered and watch as the live eventually ends. Your phone dings and for a split second you think it will be him, but it’s just Iseul telling you she’s heading back to the hotel.

A soft knock at the door makes your stomach lurch.

You’re frozen.

There’s another knock, a little firmer this time but then you feel the warm touch against your mark and you’re on your feet, your hand on the door handle before you can think.

He looks tired, that’s your first thought. His face is bare again, and his eyes are rimmed in a little bit of red like he just removed the day’s stage makeup. Despite all that, he smiles when he sees you and sighs, leaning against the door frame, “You’re awake,” he says.

“I waited,” You manage.

He grimaces, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” his eyes flick behind you into the room and he swallows, “are you alone?”

“Yes,” You nod, “but not for long, Iseul’s on her way,”

He nods, “Come to my room?”

“Are you sure?” Your eyes widen.

“We need to talk,” He nods, “can you get away for a little while?”

Iseul will probably expect you to be asleep, but you can’t let this go until morning. If you’re ever going to sleep you need to talk to him now.

“I’ll think of something,” You tell him, “what room?”

“2606,” He answers, reaching into his pockets and producing an envelope from the front desk, “take this,”

He passes you one of his room keys and you nod, “I’ll be up in five minutes, but you should go,”

“Okay,” He breathes and neither one of you makes a single move to step away from the door until a sound down the hallway pushes you into it.

“2606,” You repeat and he nods, swiftly moving down the hall before anyone can see him standing at your door.

You have no idea what you’re going to tell Iseul that would make sense, but you don’t care. You stack up your room service for collection, kick on a pair of slippers, and give yourself the fastest look in the mirror ever on your way out the door. You want to be gone before she gets back, the idea of facing her and lying ten times more difficult than an empty text.

No problem - I can’t sleep, I’m just going to walk a bit. Don’t wait up.

You don’t stick around to see if she’ll believe it.

You try to seem casual when walking to Yunho’s room, like it's yours. You don’t want anyone to give you a second glance and wonder where you’re going, so you keep your head up, smile at anyone you pass, and when his door comes into view you scan the card like it’s any other day.

When the heavy door shuts behind you, you sigh.

“God, finally,” His voice startles you, and you look up to see him pacing, “I’ve been going insane all day,”

Your shoulders drop, you aren’t alone, “Me too,”

He runs a hand through his black hair and finally stops pacing, but doesn’t come any closer, “So, this is real?”

“It feels pretty real,”

“How did we never feel it?” He manages, “I’ve known you for years,”

“We’ve never touched until today,” You tell him, and that has to be the reason, it’s the only thing that makes sense. You’ve been turning it over in your mind all night, and with the exception of bumping into him last week in the hall, it’s all been polite bows and waves.

“How is that even possible,” He breathes, “team dinners? Holiday parties? Work?”

“Skin to skin,” You murmur, “I think that’s what it was,”

“I had no idea,” He swallows, gesturing in the negative space between your bodies, “I always liked you, but I thought it was just, you know, a crush,”

“You what?” Your eyebrows raise.

“Well,” He backtracks, “not like that, it’s not like I’ve been holding a candle.”

Your face stays neutral, but he grimaces at his own words.

“I’m fucking this up,” He takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry, I’m really nervous.”

Your stomach warms, “Yunho, it’s okay, honestly,”

“I just meant I’ve always liked you, I thought about asking you out when our contracts loosened up if you were still single.” He clarifies and then you watch his face blanch, “You are single, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” You nod, “we don’t have to worry about that,”

He nods and you see him searching for the next thing to say, the right thing.

“Your mark,” You cut in, taking a few steps further into the room, “did it change?”

“Completely,” He nods, “did yours?”

“Yeah,” You wonder the right way to ask him if you can see.

“Does it feel,” He starts.

“Warm?”

“Yes,” He nods, “and tender?”

“Like a fresh tattoo,” You take another step in.

“I’ve never gotten a tattoo,” He confesses, “but I’ll take your word for it,”

“Can I,” The words are stuck on your tongue, “maybe this is weird, but I mean, I guess we’re soulmates,”

“You want to see it?” He surmises.

“Only if you’re comfortable,”

His lips quirk, “I’m comfortable,”

Heat twists in your gut and you wonder if he can feel that too. If he does he doesn’t say it, but you watch as he pulls the black t-shirt off over his head.

You’ve never seen his chest. Any inch of his skin except for his neck and arms really, and you guess that was part of keeping his soulmark covered. Idols always do, even when they’re in the most inconvenient locations, there’s always makeup or flesh colored tape or editing to take care of it. The idea that someone could replicate it and try to fake a connection is far too real for someone famous.

He drops his shirt onto the bed and pink tinges his cheeks as he gestures towards it, “Well,”

Your mouth drops, it’s the exact same, down to the size and the placement and every little loop and you stumble forwards to get a better look, “Yunho,”

“Yeah?”

“Has yours always been red?” You reach out, your fingertips hovering just over it.

He shakes his head, “Not before today,”

“Mine’s the same,” You tell him, your eyes glued to his sternum, “just the same,”

You know every centimeter of this tattoo. You’ve studied it a thousand times in the mirror, tracing over every curve with your eyes, trying to find the place where the cord starts and ends. He sucks in a sharp breath as your fingers brush gently along his mark, and you feel the ghost of the sensation against your own.

“I can’t believe we never knew,” You murmur, sliding your finger along each rounded edge.

“You feel that?” He asks, “Right?”

You’re nodding and moving to tug off your sweater before you can even think it through. He starts to shake his head, to say that you don’t have to, but you’re already tossing the sweater next to his discarded shirt and tugging down the front band of your bralette so he can see the whole mark.

His eyes flick over you fast, but with the matching mark in front of him he doesn’t focus on anything else, “It’s exactly the same,”

“I know,” You reach for his hand, but the minute more of your skin connects with his you feel your chest throb and you drop it like it burns you.

He winces, touching his chest again, “Is it supposed to hurt?”

“In the beginning,” You nod, “I think?”

“Does it always feel like that?”

“I’m not sure,” You admit, “I was going to call my sister and ask, but it’s too early at home,”

He smiles, “Your sister found her soulmate?”

“In highschool,” You smile back, “they’ve been bonded together since they were eighteen,”

“Older or younger?” He asks, and you realize just how little you know about each other despite how long you’ve worked alongside him.

“Younger,” You say.

“I have a little brother,” He replies, “but he’s still in school,”

You nod, painfully aware that this is such a strange conversation to have with your shirts off just standing in the middle of a hotel room, but somehow it’s easier than any date you’ve ever had.

Your eyes flick from his eyes to his mark and he reaches out a hand again, “Can I?”

Your heart quickens and you nod.

His fingertips graze over the edge of your mark, mimicking your touch from before, sliding along the edges of the tattoo. His eyes widen and you know he’s feeling the sensation in his own mark, a mirror image of each other.

“This doesn’t hurt,” He observes, letting his fingers linger.

“I think we have to get used to each other,” You remember that fact from somewhere, “the link has been dormant for a long time, I think it takes a minute to get used to having it,”

“Makes sense,” He murmurs, his eyes still squarely on your mark, “I’ll be honest though, I still really want to touch you,”

“Yeah?” Your voice is thready.

His fingers fall away and he nods, “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” You agree, painfully quickly.

He swallows tightly and takes the smallest step forwards, before offering out his hand, palm up and waiting for you.

Your eyes flick from his face down to his outstretched hand, and you reach for him slowly. You let your fingertips skate over the skin of his palm, down each digit, ghost the pads of your fingertips together. It’s warm, sharp and dizzying even just to brush against each other.

You wonder what more will feel like.

“Can I try something?” He murmurs, his voice nearly a whisper even though you’re all alone.

You nod.

He wets his lips unconsciously and moves a little closer, your bodies now only inches apart. Anxiety, anticipation, thrill, it all runs through your gut like a whirling wind and you shiver at the torrent of his emotions, a grin breaking out over your face.

His smile mirrors yours, “Your heart’s beating a mile a minute,”

“You can feel that?”

“Yeah,” He breathes, grin widening, “this is crazy,”

You laugh, a little nervous, a little elated, and he finally reaches out his hands.

He takes a steadying breath, and then his fingertips brush along your jaw.

You suck in a sharp gasp at the sensation, electric and hot, the feeling rocketing through your entire body. You tilt your face up to his as he continues his gentle touches, your eyes watching him as he studies you. His plush lips are parted, brown eyes wide with awe as he grows a little bolder to brush over your cheeks, down your throat, and back up to your jawline.

“Feel alright?” He murmurs.

You nod into his touch and he starts to lift off but you reach for him, “Don’t stop,”

Your hands land safely on his hips, still covered by his sweatpants and you watch him swallow again at the sudden contact, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Warmth fills the bond, no doubt the first threads of his arousal, and you wonder if he can feel your own. If he can sense how much he’s affecting you with just his fingertips on your face.

His hands settle back on your skin, this time smoothing across you with his palms, one hand cupping your cheek and the other sliding over your shoulder and down your bare back.

You can barely breathe, the room so silent and around you, like the only thing in the universe that exists is the two of you orbiting each other, standing at the precipice of something so catastrophic and wonderful.

Your hands adjust, resting on his taut abdomen as you move a little closer together, and his eyes flutter shut as he breathes through the sensation of your hands on him properly for the first time.

“You’re so warm,” You murmur, your hands softly tracing his abdominal muscles, instinct guiding you to touch more of him, seek out every inch of him as you unconsciously make a map of his body in your mind.

He hums pleasantly, eyes reopening, “So are you,”

He feels so right, so essential under your touch.

Yunho wets his lips softly with his tongue, and a nervous thrill passes through your belly. His eyes flick over you, the pad of his thumb sweeping a line over your lips. You suppress a needy sound, still trying to keep your head amidst the thrumming emotions and steady thumps of your heart.

He doesn’t stop, just stroking your skin slowly, fingers on your back pressing just a little as he sighs.

“Yunho,” You shiver.

“Cold?” He gravitates a little closer.

“N-no,” Your body is all but pressed flush against him now, and you have to lean your face up even more just to see him as he stands tall over you.

“I…” He starts to say something but lets the words die off, like he’s thinking something through, but then he sighs, “forget it,”

His lips are on yours.

Yunho lifts you, wrapping his arms around your back and tugging you up into his embrace. You gasp against his mouth, finding his shoulders to hold onto as one of his arms bands around your lower back.

The kiss is shattering, the world tilting once again, a new frequency humming between your two bodies. It’s hot, your skin buzzing from the contact, but the way you move together is fluid and easy. Your legs part naturally, settling around his hips and his free hand finds your plush thigh as he tugs you into place, slotting your bodies together like they were always meant to be.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles against your lips when he draws in a quick breath, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. His nose nuzzles against yours, and his lips part at the same moment yours do, tongues meeting in the space between your mouths to flick against each other.

“Don’t,” You push closer to him, fingers knotting into the back of his hair as you kiss him back.

He hums, the hand on your thigh sliding up to cup your ass and you shiver as his wide hand stretches across your backside, squeezing your pillowy flesh.

A tiny whimper does leave you then, liquid heat spreading through your body, the combined sensation of both your arousals giving you a headrush.

“So beautiful,” He sighs between kisses, “you’re so beautiful,”

“Yunho,” Your voice is thready, his name a stretched out sound.

He holds you close, nearly stumbling as he moves. You blink your eyes open just as he spins you both, pushing you up against the hotel wall and pinning you in place with the weight of his body. You should slow things down, but nothing in your life has ever felt this good and you find yourself diving back to meet his kiss again.

His arm slides out from behind your back as he pushes closer, your body fully supported by the flat of the wall behind you and his hips under yours and one hand firmly anchored on your ass. With his arm free he cups your cheek, a pleased sound on his lips as he dips you back into the wall and deepens the kiss.

Heat blooms through you, your kisses getting needier, artless and desperate just to get a little closer together. The kind of kissing that sounds as messy as it is, tiny pants and moans muffled between you, skin on skin, tongue on tongue.

“God,” He shudders, his lips breaking away, but his eyes only flick over you for a second before he dives back in. This time his lips travel, hot kisses across your jaw and back to the hollow of your ear, down your throat as he holds you a little higher on the wall for the right access.

You grip his shoulders with one hand and lock your fingers in his mess of black hair with the other, your head falling back against the wall. He pants against your throat, a soft groan as he kisses, and your stomach tightens pleasantly.

“Y-Yunho,” You gasp, arousal rolling through you, and unconsciously you rock your hips, desperately seeking some kind of friction.

He hums low in his throat, kissing back up your neck fast to get to your lips again and his hand slides off your cheek as he crowds you tighter, bracing himself against the wall above your head. His abdomen presses against your core, and even through layers of fabric you feel his heat. Hungrily, you roll your hips again and catch a little pressure, moaning in earnest against his mouth.

Yunho makes a tight sound and then he breaks the kiss, his forehead pressing hard against yours as he takes in slow breaths, his body all but trembling with need as he holds you.

“We need to slow down,” He manages.

You can’t find words, not yet, but you nod against him.

“You deserve better,” He says, “dates, presents,”

You laugh softly, your hand in his hair softening from a grip to a gentle hold, carding through the long locks at the base of his neck, “I don’t need all that,”

He smiles wide, brushing off your words, “Still,” He sighs, still recovering from the heated make out, “I think I have more self control than fulfilling our bond by fucking you into the wall,”

Reality bleeds back in at that. Soulmarks were just that, indicator marks. A way to find your person amidst a sea of thousands, if not millions. All the shared sensation and emotion a precursor to something more permanent and binding, something only sealed together by sex.

You lift your head up, and he leans back to mirror you.

“I lost my head there,” You admit, warm blush in your cheeks, “I didn’t know it would feel like this,”

He smiles, and you take in his expression. His hair is a mess, mussed and disheveled and his face is pink from his nose down to the dark, well-kissed curve of his lips. His bare chest is flushed bright pink and his eyes are bright and warm. You fight the urge to kiss him again.

“Me either,” He shakes his head, “it’s incredible,”

“Overwhelming,” You nod, exhaling softly.

He makes a soft sound to agree and then starts to push back from the wall gingerly, letting you slowly unwrap your legs from his waist and ease down to the floor.

He lets you go when you’re steady on your feet and clears his throat, adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants and running a hand through his tangled locks. He’s hard, that much is obvious from the distinct outline of his cock through the gray fabric, but you do your best to look away and not think about how thick and heavy it looked just from kissing you.

“Jesus,” He adjusts his sweats again, “sorry,”

“It’s fine,” You cup your own cheeks with cool fingers, “I promise you’re not the only one,”

His eyes hold yours for a lengthy beat and then he swallows, taking a wide step back and nodding, “Right,” he shakes his head, “we’re supposed to be slowing down.”

“Slow,” You lean against the wall behind you, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to steady your thumping heart.

“I’m going over here,” He grins and walks to the far wall by the door to the bathroom, leaning back and crossing his own arms, “we really should talk,”

A pulse of anxiety flickers through you, and you realize just how quickly you went from his hotel room door to nearly falling into bed. He’s handsome, a kind man, your once upon a time crush, and certainly fated to be a good match for you, but that doesn’t mean you should throw out good sense and rush things. No matter how much your impulses were screaming at you to do just that.

You try to ignore the fact that there’s a bed between you, and you nod, “You’re right,” you finally say, “we barely know each other,”

Yunho’s smile fades just a bit, “I wouldn’t say that,”

“We’re coworkers,” The words tumble out, “I know what we’re both feeling, but,”

His brow furrows as he thinks through your words and he shakes his head, “y/n,” he cuts you off, “do you believe in soulmates?”

“Yes, of course,” Even if you hadn’t before, the way you’re feeling now would be enough to dispel any skeptic.

He takes in a quick breath, the sound sharp as he draws it through his teeth and he cocks his head slightly to the side, “You’re scared,” he massages the top of his sternum with his fingers, and you recognize your own chest is tight with anxiety, “I can feel it, talk to me.”

The instant vulnerability of the bond is startling, and you can feel your own expression crumble. It’s suddenly a bit like being an ant caught under a magnifying glass, too much sharp attention all at once and you swallow tightly, eyes flicking away from his tender gaze.

“y/n,” He murmurs, “I’m not pushing for more, not tonight,”

“Yeah,” Your voice is soft, too quiet for your own liking. Something about the way he sees you so clearly and so quickly makes you feel exposed, nervous and strangely childlike.

“Hey,” He breaks through your little thought spiral, “look at me,”

You straighten up again, finding his eyes.

“I’m just happy I found you,” He tells you, and you feel the truth of it in your gut, “we can figure everything else out together, and at our own pace, okay?”

Relief spreads through you, the knot in your chest loosening, “Promise?”

“Promise,” He nods, raising one hand with his pinky extended, “I just want us to try,”

You nod, extending your own pinky to seal it, “Me too.”

He smiles at that, “Barely know each other,” he scolds softly, “I’m offended.”

“Oh yeah?” Tension bleeds out of your shoulders.

“Mhm,” His expression is full of cheek, “I’m the one with a crush, remember? I notice things,”

Your stomach flips pleasantly and your arms relax from their tight position crossed over your chest, “What things?”

“Let’s see,” He starts, and for a brief moment you think maybe he’s bluffing, but the moment he starts you melt and he holds your gaze as he warmly recites all the little things he’s noticed about you over the years.

“You only wear silver jewelry,” he notes first, nodding towards you.

Your tight hands uncurl.

“You have a ridiculous sweet tooth,” The more he talks the more he relaxes against the far wall, “and you start getting flushed after the second shot of soju, you really are a lightweight,”

“You always pick a Big Bang song for karaoke, and you’re late to work every Monday,” He laughs a little at that and keeps going, “you don’t wear a lot of color but when you do it’s red. We’re both from Gwangju but you moved to Seoul when you were five,”

Your heart starts to beat a little faster, warmth filling you again and you don’t know if it’s your affection or his anymore, but it hardly matters.

“Um,” He takes a deep breath and glances away for a moment and then catches more threads from his memory, “you’re a Sagittarius, you’re a runner, and the last book I saw you reading was Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982. I bought it, but I haven’t had a chance to read it just yet,”

“Yunho,” You find yourself smiling, a hand over your surprised lips.

“I’m just saying,” He shrugs a little, “we aren’t strangers. I know this is scary and fast and going to change the rest of our lives,”

Elation, pure joy, spills over unfettered from his side of your new emotional tether.

“But I like you,” He confesses, “I have for a while, and this,” he brushes his fingers along his soulmark, “just changes the timeline.”

He’s yours.

You push off the wall, crossing the room and all but leap back into his embrace, your arms looping around his shoulders again as you push up on tiptoe to kiss his lips.

“This is real,” You murmur.

“Yes,” He cups your cheeks, nodding as he pecks your lips again.

“You’re mine,”

“Yes,” He grins.

“Oh, this is crazy,” You laugh, forehead against his again.

“We’ll go slow,” He assures you again, “we’ll figure it out together,”

“Together,” You nod.

He dips low once more, this kiss more tender, and he separates you both before things can heat up again. “Hmm,” He glances across the bed and makes a small face at the time displayed on the digital clock, “did you eat?”

“I tried to,” You confess, “I was nervous,”

“You need to eat,” He snaps up his black shirt from the bed and slips it back on, and your chest warms. It’s strangely domestic, strangely commonplace like you’ve been in this position a thousand times before.

Yunho adjusts his shirt and then kisses your hair as he passes by you, padding over to the hotel microwave and searching through the assorted snacks and instant meals, “It’s too late for room service,”

“I’m okay,” You pull your own sweater back on and sit on the edge of his bed.

“y/n,” He glances back, a softly scolding tone.

“Really, you need to sleep,” You offer.

He dismisses that thought, “But I’m hungry, eat with me?”

You concede, and while he starts whipping up two servings of ramen, you wonder if this is what he’s going to be like. It makes sense, he’s always been a caretaking kind of person, but having it so tenderly directed at you feels right.

“When we get home,” He says as he pours in the spice packets, “I’ll take you somewhere nice,”

“This is nice,” You smile.

“y/n,” He sets the ramen on a side table and sits next to you, “this is cup noodle from a hotel microwave,”

“The company is nice,” You take the ramen happily though, and tuck into the warm meal.

“It is,”

“Mm, you know,” You slurp back some noodles and softly clear your throat, “you weren’t the only one with a crush,”

He freezes, letting his noodles drop back into his cup, “What?”

“I’ve always liked you,” Your own confession feels easier after his, “I put it aside since we work together, but I guess, I mean, what I’m trying to say is that we both felt it before the mark, you’re not alone in that.”

“I had no idea,”

“I’m very professional,” You tease him lightly.

He nudges you and tucks back into his noodles, “How long?”

“Hmm,” You get more comfortable, crossing your legs and scooting back a little onto the mattress, “I thought you were cute when we first met,”

“God,” He groans, “we were such kids,”

You nod, swallowing another bite, “Mhm, you had that blonde hair,”

He laughs.

“I remember thinking, ‘that one’s trouble’,” You confess.

“Me?” His eyebrows perk up, “I’m perfectly nice,”

“Trouble as in you’re my type,” You roll your eyes, “but I don’t think the crush properly came until later. You’ve always made me laugh, and when I realized how I was feeling I just did my best to keep some distance,”

He nods, face getting a little serious, “I know what you mean,”

That knowledge leaves you both a little quiet. The late hour, the adrenaline come down, all of it barrels into you at the same moment as the next anxious thought. How in the world were you both going to navigate this with a contract as tight as theirs and the public eye always watching?

“Yunho,” You murmur, the last of your noodles left to go cold as you sit with that thought, “Are we going to be able to figure this out?”

“Figure what out?” He looks genuinely confused by your question, “Us?”

“You’re an idol,” You nod towards him, “I’m staff,”

He rests a hand on your knee, “We’ll be fine,”

“Aren’t your contracts,” You trail off, letting him fill in the blanks.

“They’re strict, yes,” He nods, “year seven,”

Dating, romance, even the perception of it was more than discouraged by companies in this industry, their artists contractually obligated to be single and available and dedicated only to their fans. Five years would have been the industry standard to prevent any idol from being caught out with a partner, let alone a potential soulmarked one, but seven is excessive.

You blanch, “That’s almost two years away,”

“We will find a way,” He says, “we’re not the first people in the industry this has happened to,”

“Really?” You perk up, “Who?”

He falls short, “Well, I don’t know exactly, but it’s bound to have happened.”

“And then ruined their careers,” You groan, flopping back flat on the mattress and covering your face with a hand, “which is why we’ve never heard of them,”

Yunho laughs, earnestly laughs, and takes the half empty ramen cup out of your hand to discard, “Maybe, but for now, let’s just stay positive. Get to know eachother better,”

You nod.

“Nothing can change the fact that we found each other,” He points out, dropping down onto his side on the bed next to you, “and I’m okay with that.”

“So we just lie to everyone?” You chew at the inside of your lip, staring up at the white ceiling.

“Hey,” Yunho’s fingers tuck under your chin and draw your eyes to him, “I know you’re anxious,”

You sigh, letting his softness calm you again.

“I know,” He repeats, “I am too, but we don’t have to decide anything tonight. We’re both tired and it’s been an emotional day,”

“Okay,” You nod, “okay, yes, you’re right,”

His thumb strokes over your cheek again, and you watch him exhale and sink further into your touch, “Will you stay tonight?”

That wakes you up.

Your eyebrows raise, “Stay?”

“Just to sleep,” He assures you, “I just… I don’t want to be without you yet,”

“I need to get back before Iseul wakes up if we do that,” You note with a grimace.

“What time?” He glances back to the clock.

“Seven,” You say, “her alarm is set for seven-thirty,”

“We can do that,” He grabs his phone off the side table and sets an alarm, “we’ll get up,”

The pull between your bodies is so strong you’re fairly sure you would have stayed no matter the consequences, but you nod, “Then I’ll stay,”

He grins and pushes himself off the bed, “I’ve got clothes, if you want to get comfortable,”

“Sure,” you sit up and wait for him to find things in his still packed suitcase.

“Um,” He pulls a pair of black sweatpants from the bag, “these should work, and if you get cold,”

You smile as he grabs a gray hoodie and comes back to you.

As you start to pull off your sweater again, he turns around and leaves his back to you, “Sorry,”

“Thanks,” You chuckle, making short work of changing. You’re swimming in his clothes, but his sweatshirt smells like him and you just want to bury your face into it, “you can turn around now,”

His shoulders relax as he turns back, and you watch his lips part as he takes you in.

“What?”

“You look cute,” He clears his throat, shrugging off his reaction.

You smile and ease back onto the bed, “Oh, I get it,” you laugh, “is your guy brain on fire because I’m wearing your clothes? Is this some kind of… you won the competition, ownership thing?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, kneeling on the bed to shuffle closer, “No competition when you’re literally fated for me,”

“Right,” You let the word drag out on your tongue to tease him.

“But I like taking care of you already, and now you’re warm and comfortable,” He collapses next to you onto the mattress with a sigh, “and I know I don’t own you, but you are mine, just like I’m yours now. I won’t apologize for liking you in my clothes or in my bed, for liking when you look like my girlfriend,”

Warmth blooms in your cheeks and you duck your face into the sheets.

“Now come get under the covers,” He maneuvers the duvet, “it’s late, you were dead on your feet today,”

His voice is so warm and familiar, and you slide into the covers beside him.

In bed you keep a little distance, and despite the number of times both of you say that you should go to sleep, your conversation is almost impossible to stop. Yunho holds your hand in the middle space of the mattress between your bodies, and in the dim lighting of the hotel room you whisper thought after thought back and forth. A million things coming to mind you need to tell each other so suddenly now that you’ve found each other.

As you talk his fingers travel, restlessly stroking your skin, up and down your arm and tapping out patterns. When his palm slides back and forth over the sharp lines of the tattoos on your upper arm, and you feel the question slipping out of your lips and revealing more about yourself than you intended before you can catch it.

“Your parents,” You blurt out, “will they be happy?” He’s spoken about them so much over the past hour that you can’t help but ask him that question point blank.

“So happy,” He responds with ease, a laugh on his lips, “they always worried me being an idol meant I’d never be able to find the one and settle down, they’re going to love this story,”

You smile at the easy way he calls you ‘the one’, but the question you really asked still remains unanswered and you exhale softly, “But,” you manage, “will they be happy with me?”

Yunho stills, reaching across the bed to hook his finger under your chin and draw your eyes up to his again, “Very happy,” he says, “just like I am.”

Your muscles relax, his words a soothing balm, and you adjust your position on the pillow beneath you, “Just checking,”

“Mhm,” He studies your face, “jagi, why wouldn’t they be happy with you?”

The endearment slips off his lips with ease, and a burst of warmth spreads through you. You’ve never needed pet names and softness like this from a partner, but from him it makes your heart quicken.

The momentary elation fades though, and his question comes back into your mind. You take a deep breath, you owe it to him to tell him now, “My family won’t be happy,”

“With me?” His eyebrows raise.

“It’s me,” You shake your head, “my parents have difficult ideals, and I’ve never pleased them. It wouldn’t matter who you were, they… they’ll find a way to not be happy for me.”

His eyes soften, and his thumb strokes along your jaw, “I’m sorry,”

“It is what it is,”

“Are your parents soulmates?” He asks softly.

You shake your head, “No, they don’t really believe in soulmarks,”

You watch his eyes widen in surprise.

“Unless,” You can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “the match is ‘fortuitous’,”

“For status?” He surmises.

“Status, money,” You shrug, “connection. But I think I could marry the next president and they’d still find a way to be disappointed in me,”

His jaw flexes tense for just a moment, before his expression smooths over again.

“Anyway,” You clear the bad thoughts away as quickly as they came, “my sister and I never went along like they wanted, like my cousins and the rest of my family, so we are the great disappointments. It’s not… it’s fine, but, I guess you should know before we, you know,”

He smiles, a bit of amusement in his expression that you can’t place, “Did you think having bad parents would scare me off?”

“It could,”

“No,” He slides a hand under your side and tugs you across the mattress to press a fast kiss to your lips, “it never could.”

“But I’m,” You start, all the reasons why a partner might care ringing in your ears.

“Beautiful?” He cuts you off, “Just my type? If it’s anything else I don’t want to hear you say it,”

Your stomach flip flops hard and you push lightly against his chest to get him to stop.

“The thing is,” He brushes your hair back from your cheek, “my parents are soulmates. I grew up in a house full of a lot of love, even when they were being strict and scolding us.”

Your smile at his warm expression.

“So I know they’ll love you,” He explains, “they know what this feels like, what it means. I have plenty of family for us both,”

Your throat constricts, tears threatening for a moment.

“Your sister, though,” He grounds you out of the bad thoughts without even thinking, “you two are close?”

“Very,”

“I’d like to meet her,” He smiles.

“You two would get along great, my sister and her wife both, actually,”

Yunho nods, listening attentively, “Do they have kids?”

“Not yet,” You groan, “but I’m dying to be an auntie,”

His thumb drags a comforting line across your cheekbone, his expression warm and affectionate, “Cute,”

You sink into the pillows, a yawn creeping up to your lips, “She’s going to lose her mind when I call her,”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” You huff a laugh, “she thought that when I started working here I should have found an inconspicuous way to bump into all of you to test possible bonds. She’s going to be riding the ‘I told you so’ train.”

“She’s funny,” He smirks.

“Very,” You sigh, unconsciously cuddling into his warmth.

“Has it been a while since you’ve seen her?” He asks softly, adjusting his arms around you so that you’re cradled against his chest with the pillows at your back.

“Mhm,” You yawn again, the warmth of his body settling the last of the adrenaline inside you, “a while,”

“Let’s find a day off after the tour,” He tucks the duvet around you.

“Yeah?” Your eyes feel heavy.

“Yeah,” He kisses your forehead.

“Yunho,” You yawn again, dipping your forehead into his chest, “God, I’m so tired again,”

“Mhm,” He yawns too, “me too, jagi,”

You hum softly, fingers slipping under the edge of his shirt just to feel a little skin, “I like that,” you murmur, “I like you,”

“I like you too,” He chuckles, “now go to sleep,”

A piece of you wants to protest, wants more time cocooned in this day with him, but something about his body feels so right. After a week of sleeping poorly, your body tight and anxious and heart fluttering for no reason at all, when he touches you, your mind goes blissfully blank.

Your muscles relax, your breath dropping low and soft in your chest.

Nuzzled against his tattoo, you drift.

You’re supposed to wake up to an alarm. Early enough that you could slip back into your hotel room and your own bed to yawn and stretch next to Iseul and make her believe you were there the whole night. That’s what was supposed to happen.

Instead, you wake to the heavy sound of a hotel door and Seonghwa’s voice, Yunho jolting awake beside you.

“Oh my god,” Seonghwa says for what sounds like the third time to your fuzzy sleep-addled brain, “oh my god?”

“Hyung,” Yunho pushes himself up, his arms unwinding from around you, “hey, don’t freak out,”

“Don’t freak out,” Seonghwa’s eyes blow wide, “are you fucking kidding me? Hongjoong is going to kill you,”

“You don’t understand,” Sleep is still heavy on him and he shakes his head to try to pull himself away.

“I understand plenty,” Seonghwa counters, “how long have you been lying to us?”

His reaction surprises you, and you ease yourself up to sit next to Yunho. You’re not sure what to say or not say, you don’t know what they’ve discussed in the past when it comes to dating and relationships, but by Seonghwa’s outburst you can guess it’s honesty at a minimum.

Yunho’s face falls, “No, it’s not that,”

“I can tell you what it looks like,” Seonghwa lowers his voice to what amounts to a stage whisper.

“Hyung,” Yunho rubs his eyes, running a hand through his mop of black hair.

“It looks like you’ve been sneaking around,” He continues, “how long have you two been fucking?”

“Hey,” Yunho’s voice sharpens, and his hand crosses your body to anchor on your opposite thigh.

Seonghwa’s eyes track it and he shakes his head, “This is so stupid,” he steps back in surprise, “you’re both being so, incredibly stupid.”

Yunho gives you a squeeze and opens his mouth to reply but Seonghwa keeps going.

“Naive is what it is,”

Irritation bubbles in your gut and you can’t stop yourself, “Seonghwa, will you shut up for one second?”

He stops in his tracks, mouth falling open, “What?”

“Can you please,” You hold his gaze, “please, just listen to Yunho for a minute before you jump to conclusions.”

He shifts, taking a step back and crossing his arms, and then he looks to Yunho.

Yunho finds your eyes quickly, silently asking, and you give him a nod.

“Okay,” Yunho runs a hand through his hair again, “I’ll just say it.”

Seonghwa waits, his expression completely neutral except for the irritated corner of his lips.

“y/n is my soulmate,” Yunho squeezes your thigh again and you slip your hand into his to twine your fingers together, “we didn’t know, but now we do.”

Seonghwa’s brows go high, shock filling his features.

“We’re not hiding,” You add, “we just… it’s just,”

“How long?” Seonghwa manages.

“Soundcheck yesterday,” Yunho says, “we haven’t known long enough to lie, hyung.”

“You’re sure?” He looks between you both, and you know what he’s thinking. How could it be possible to know each other for years and not know.

“We’re sure,” You answer confidently, calmly, “I swear,”

“It’s real,” Yunho’s thumb strokes across knuckles, “it’s very real.”

Seonghwa swallows, taking in the news and sinks back against the hotel dresser, “Well, fuck,”

“Yeah,” Yunho laughs.

“You were off timing yesterday,” Seonghwa points out, “and distracted,”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Yunho grimaces.

“No, but,” He shrugs, “I know you and you’re never off time.”

“It wasn’t easy to focus on the show yesterday,” Yunho admits.

“I’m sorry,” You nudge him with your shoulder, knowing a huge portion of that must have been the panic flooding his side of the link.

He shakes his head, “There’s nothing to be sorry for,”

When you look back up, Seonghwa is smiling and he sighs, “Oh, you’ve both got it bad.”

“Obviously,” You hide your face in your sweatshirt sleeve.

“So, what’s the plan?” Seonghwa asks, “Because you can’t act like this around anyone else,”

Your mouth feels dry.

“We don’t know,” Yunho answers, “we have to figure that out, for now I think we just try to keep things normal.”

Seonghwa nods and then leans forward, “Listen, I know you’re not asking for my advice,”

You both wait.

“But you're my brother,” Seonghwa says unequivocally, “so I’m going to give you some anyway.”

Yunho nods.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” Seonghwa points out, “and I’m sure it will be hard to act like acquaintances in front of everyone, but you have to do it, at least until you make a plan.”

“Yeah,” Yunho’s cheeks are a little pink and he squeezes your hand.

“No one fires the idol for things like this,” He reminds you both, “so for her sake, put it away for today.”

“He’s right,” You nod, “today we go back to coworkers,”

Yunho draws your clasped hands up and kisses your fingers, “Okay,”

“You’re lucky I offered to check on you,” Seonghwa sighs heavily, “if any of the managers came in,”

“Check on me?” Yunho perks up at that, “Hwa, why,”

Things come into focus for you at that moment, how bright the hotel room is with sunlight, how well rested you really feel. You twist in the bed and look at the digital clock, “Oh no,”

“You were late,” Seonghwa explains, “we figured you overslept, I offered to use the spare key to get you up.”

“Fuck,” Yunho curses.

You both slept straight through Yunho’s alarm.

“Iseul is going to fucking kill me,” You roll out of bed, your hands breaking apart as you scramble for you phone, “what the hell am I going to tell her?”

Your phone reads nine-thirty. In thirty minutes you’re supposed to be packed into a van and on the way to the venue and when you look at the collection of notifications your stomach churns.

Three calls from Iseul, and a lengthy string of text messages.

Did you already get up and get ready?

Your work bag is still here…

Not funny, girl, where are you?

Did you make it back last night?

Can you answer me??

I’m getting worried. I haven’t heard anything - You haven’t even read these?

You better not be dead in a ditch, I’ll kill you myself.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Your hands are trembling as you tap out the fastest reply - Alive, be right there.

Yunho’s a whirlwind behind you, stripping out of his sleep clothes and yanking on whatever outfit is at the top of his suitcase, “It’s fine, it’s going to be fine,”

“Sure,” You search the floor for your jeans and dart into the bathroom, “my best friend is going to murder me though,”

You change at lightning speed, swapping his sweats for your jeans and then tying up your hair into a messy bun before pushing back out into the main room.

“Everyone’s downstairs,” Seonghwa offers, “you shouldn’t run into anyone on the way back to your room.”

“Good, okay, good,” Your heart is pounding, “where’s my room key?”

“Here,” Yunho darts forwards and finds the little envelope, passing it to you, “take a breath,”

“I have to go,” You manage, “I have to think of something,”

“Don’t kiss and tell,” Seonghwa offers and he’s being funny but it’s vaguely helpful.

“Wait,” Yunho grabs your hand and tugs you back, snapping your phone out of your hand.

“Yunho, I don’t,” You start to say but he waves you off.

He types fast, adding himself as a contact in Kakao Talk, “My number,” he explains.

Seonghwa huffs a laugh.

You take the phone back and tuck it into your pocket, “I’ll message you later,”

“Good,” He dips forwards and presses one warm, tender kiss to your lips, “now get out of here,”

You kiss him back, just once and fast, a little shred of self indulgence before you have to act like he’s just another guy, and then you’re darting out of the room, shouting back a thank you at Seonghwa as you go.

You navigate the halls fast, and opt to take the stairs to get down one floor faster and more inconspicuously. You take a deep breath when you get to your hotel door, and then you dive.

“So you are alive,” Iseul’s waiting, just like you thought she might be. She’s sitting on your still made bed, her phone in her hands and a tense expression on her face, “I was just about to tell the managers you were missing,”

“I’m so sorry, seriously, I didn’t mean to worry you,” You take a few steps into the room.

Her eyes flick over you, and you realize at the moment her eyes widen that you’re still wearing Yunho’s hoodie, your sweater still discarded on his bedroom floor.

“You hooked up with someone?” Her voice spikes, “Are you kidding me?”

Thankfully the hoodie is plain, just a heather gray with no identifying attributes that scream his name, but you’re still swimming in it and it’s clear you’re rumpled from bed.

“Listen,” You hold up your hands, “I didn’t mean to not text you, I just fell asleep,”

“With some guy?” She stands.

“Yes,” You settle on some version of the truth.

“Who?” She flounders, “We’re supposed to text each other,”

And you always did, when either one of you went home with someone there was always a little preemptive safety report. A name, an address, a shared location, something so that you weren’t completely alone in the world with a strange guy.

“I’m sorry,” You say again.

She studies you, and it’s like she’s looking through you.

“Oh my god,” Her eyes widen, “we know him.”

“Iseul,” Your cheeks heat.

She points at you, “I’m right!”

“It’s not a big deal,” You skirt around her words.

“The only reason you wouldn’t text me is if you were with someone we both know,” She narrows her eyes, “so give it up.”

“I can’t,” You press, “leave it,”

“Why are you being so weird?”

“Iseul,” You sigh, avoiding her gaze, “I just woke up in a panic, and I have like fifteen minutes to get showered, can you give me the third degree later?”

“I’m not letting this go,”

“Yeah,” You pull off Yunho’s sweatshirt and head to the bathroom, “I know, but we have work.”

“Work with a coworker you slept with,” She stands in the doorway while you start the shower, and you realize her tone isn’t so much as angry anymore but probing.

“I didn’t sleep with him,” You groan, “well, I guess I did, but we didn’t have sex, okay?”

“That’s awfully cozy for a one night stand,” She crosses her arms, “unless you’re seeing someone? Are you seeing someone?”

“No,” You test the water heat and unbutton your jeans, “I swear I’ll explain another time, but can you just drop it for today? Or do you want to stand here and watch me shower?”

“Fine,” She concedes, “you will tell me?”

“I swear,” You nod, “I want to tell you, but I’m not ready yet, okay?”

Her eyes soften up at that, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You nod, “but I’m having big feelings about it and I need to work it out,”

“Oh,” In all the years you’ve known her, she’s never seen you in love or even close, and she just blinks, “got it,”

“Can I shower now?” You gesture towards the running water.

“Yeah,” She steps back, “yeah, but I’m still mad you didn’t text me.”

“Okay,”

“And I’m still going to guess who it is,” She smirks.

“Fine,”

Her smile widens and she rolls her eyes, “I bet it’s one of the BB guys, isn’t it? You always like a dancer,”

She turns the corner before she can watch you blushing harder, so nearly on the money with her guess, but you put it all out of your mind for now and focus on your day. You’re late, and it’s about to be another long one. You’ll have time for everything else later, if you can just keep your cool.

Work is bizarre to say the least. You and Yunho both do an excellent job of not looking at each other except for when he’s in your makeup chair, and you’re getting better and better at ignoring both San’s and Seonghwa’s nervous glances.

This time you start the makeup early, less time pressure with the schedule adjustments, and the night goes off without a hitch. Soundcheck to stage to VIP benefits, it’s a whirlwind and you’re grateful for the distractions everywhere you look.

You can still feel him, emotions from his side of the link ebbing and flowing throughout the day, but the sharp intensity of yesterday has dulled a bit after your night together. In quiet moments you find yourself thinking about his lips, or the way his hands held you as you tumbled into sleep, but you push it down and stay professional.

As the show ends, Iseul ropes you into team dinner, desperate to observe who you interact with and how, still on her quest to find your mystery bed partner, but the boys aren’t there and so there’s nothing for her to really see.

Later, with Iseul passed out from one too many shots of soju, you slip back into Yunho’s hoodie and cuddle into the warmth of your own bed. You need more sleep, you know that, but your brain isn’t cooperating. You toss and turn in the sheets, body feeling like a taut cord, and all you can think of is him.

You miss him.

It’s not even two days of having him in your life like this and you feel nervous and achy without him. There’s no way you’ll survive two years of this.

Over an hour passes as you sigh, changing positions again and again, and then your phone finally buzzes. You scramble to see if it’s a message from him, nearly dropping your phone in the process.

Can’t sleep? - He must be feeling your restlessness.

Not at all - You reply, chest feeling warm at the contact.

Little bubbles pop up immediately to indicate he’s typing and then another message pops on your screen - You’d think after last night we’d both be exhausted.

So you’re as awake as I am?

Just can’t relax. I liked having you here last night. - He confesses.

You roll over in the bedding onto your front and push the pillow under your chest before you keep texting - I liked it too. I’d come up except Iseul wouldn’t lay off guessing who I was with this morning.

Oh? Did she guess correctly? - You can practically see the smirk on his face.

Nope - You tease back.

Was she upset? - He asks.

At first, but I told her I would tell her soon I just needed some time - You reply.

That’s good, honest. - His message makes you smile.

How was Seonghwa? - You tap out.

Fine…. stressing and acting like a hyung, you know - He says.

You smile and type out another message - Is he keeping this to himself for now?

Yes - Yunho’s message comes in, and then another - For now, he knows we need to decide things first.

That’s good - You send back.

Things lull for a moment, and you try to think of something more to say, but Yunho swoops in with a question that makes you bite your lip to keep from laughing - Who did Iseul guess you were with? Was I even on the list?

I thought you’d be happy she didn’t guess - You reply.

Bubbles appear immediately, then another message - I’m a little offended, I’m the obvious choice.

Why’s that? - You tease him.

You feel something warm in your chest, and his next message flies back - I thought I was your type?

You stifle another laugh - You are, she’s not very observant.

So who did she guess?

Your belly flip flops and you hide your face in the pillow for a moment. His obvious jealousy, even just to tease you, is making your heart quicken and you can’t stop yourself from making it harder on him.

You take a breath and reply - About half the BB crew and a few of your managers.

The replies don’t come for a moment, and you nervously refresh the chat.

Finally a message comes in - I’m trying to think of something funny to say, but I’m actually just irrationally jealous.

She was just teasing, no need to be jealous - You smile into your hand.

Doesn’t matter - He says - Now I’m just here alone wondering which of our coworkers Iseul thinks you have chemistry with

He is jealous. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the swooping sensation in your belly and press your legs a little tighter together. If you close your eyes you can feel the echo of his hands on you from last night, and all you want in the world is for him to come down here and kiss you hard like that again.

With a slow exhale you return to your phone - Don’t be jealous, Yunho. We both know I’m yours.

Yeah? - His reply comes after a beat - No need to be jealous then.

Exactly - You reply.

I bet you like it a little though - His message flies in as yours sends.

You feel warm all over and you run a nervous hand through your hair before replying - No, I don’t.

Jagi, you forget I can feel how worked up you’re getting.

Your stomach clenches, drops and twists. He’s going to be the death of you and you’re still just flirting.

You work up the courage and finally send your reply - You’re the one that pinned me to the wall last night.

I’ve been thinking about that all day - The message reply is fast.

You smile and bite your lip, snuggling further into the mattress and trying to ignore the growing pulse between your thighs - You did seem distracted during rehearsals.

You feel warmth in your chest, and you know exactly how much your flirting is affecting him. Another text pings through and you shiver when you read it - How could I not be distracted with you there? All I could think about was the way you said my name last night.

Your thighs press together - Yunho?

Yes, jagi?

Or more whiny, was it? Yunho-ya? - You type it out fully, emphasizing the extended sound, knowing exactly what he wants to hear from the way he gripped you last night.

The room is suddenly hot, and your heart beats faster to sync with his.

It takes a moment for him to respond, bubbles popping up and then receding again and you wonder how he’s lying in bed. If he’s hard already, if he’s palming himself? You wonder if he sleeps naked when he’s alone and youre core clenches, arousal pooling in your gut and you know he can feel the threads of it. When he finally presses send on his message you have to cover your mouth to keep quiet.

Feeling needy? Are you squirming around in that hotel bed wishing for me, sweetheart?

You feel that message from your top to your toes and you steal a fast glance at the bed next to you. Iseul is sound asleep, turned away from you and snoring softly, and you let out a relieved, shuddering breath.

You could pump the brakes here, tease him and find a way to say goodnight, but you simply can’t. Need and arousal overwhelms you and you tap back your reply fast - I’ve been aching all day.

Do you have headphones?

The question catches you off guard, but you write back - Yes, airpods.

Put them in - He says, and you swallow tightly, reaching for the little headphone case on your bedside table.

Your fingers are shaking as you take them out of the case and put them in, making sure they’re connected before you reply - Done.

His call lights up your phone, ringing in your headphones and you swipe to answer with a panicked glance at the bed next to you, but Iseul sleeps on, none the wiser.

“y/n?” His voice is so rich and quiet, a little raspy edge after singing all night and you nearly moan.

“Hi,” You whisper as soft as you can, “I can’t,”

“Don’t talk,” He soothes you, “don’t wake Iseul up, I’ll talk to you and you can text me back, okay?”

You minimize the call and open your chat back up, sending him a quick emoji to acknowledge his words.

“Perfect,” He laughs softly, “this is way easier than texting. Listen, I know we said slow, but I’d love to help you relax if you want that. If not, I can just say goodnight, it’s up to you.”

You exhale softly, a needy thrill in your gut - Let’s relax together.

“Oh,” He sighs pleasantly, “yes, I’d love that.”

You want me? - You ask.

“You can feel how much I do,” He responds, “I’m sitting here convincing myself not to come downstairs and get my hands on you.”

You hum softly, shifting in the sheets and relaxing deeper into the pillows.

You hear his own breath, the way he parts his lips with a wet sound, “Can you tell me what position you’re in?”

You tap out the reply - Lying on my front, on my stomach.

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased, “I bet you look so cute, all twisted up in the sheets and blushing,”

I was tossing and turning.

“I bet you were,” He groans a little, “I tried everything. I hit the gym, cold shower, did some deep breathing, but you have me so keyed up I can’t sleep,”

You send him another emoji, the blushing face.

He laughs, the rumble of it too deep and warm in your ear with your headphones in.

You tap out another message - What position are you in? Trying to picture it.

You hear him shift around in the sheets, “I’m on my back,”

Wearing?

He chuckles, “Aren’t I supposed to be the one asking what you’re wearing?”

I asked you first.

“Fair,” He shifts again, and you picture him restless on his back in the bed you shared the night before, “just boxers,”

A heavy sigh passes through your lips.

“And you?”

You wish it were sexier all of a sudden, but that just wouldn’t be practical in a room with your friend so you tell him honestly - Pajamas, the button down kind, they’re gray.

“God, you’re adorable,” The covers on his end shift again, “wish you were up here with me.”

Me too

“This is probably better,” He says though, “I don’t think I could hold myself back for another night.”

Me either - You confess.

“y/n,” His voice warms, low in his chest, “jagiya, can I help you? Can I tell you what I want you to do?”

Your hands are shaking and you type the reply so fast there’s a typo that you have to fix - Pfease - Please.

He chuckles, “Alright, get comfortable, just listen to my voice, okay?”

You message him one last thought - What about you?

“I’m… I’m, uh,” He lets out a shaky breath, “I’m already stroking for you,”

You press your lips together to keep from making a sound, dropping your forehead to the pillow in front of you.

That’s so hot - You text him quickly when you hear him say your name, probably a little nervous he came on too strong.

He hums, “Good,” he says, “then don’t worry about me, just listen to my voice.”

You set your phone to the side, snuggling into the mattress and the pillows just like he asked for, sparing one more glance at Iseul to confirm she’s still completely out of it.

“Comfy?” He asks when you stop shifting around.

“Mhm,” You murmur in a whisper.

“Good,” He sighs, “now slip one of your hands under your cute little pajamas, between your thighs.”

You slide your arm down, tucking it under your body and into your sleep pants.

“Under your panties too,” He says, his voice a little husky.

“Mhm,” You murmur again, following his words.

“Tease a little for me,” He instructs you, “not too fast, just your fingertips on the outside,”

You breathe low and slow, gently passing the pads of your fingers over your slit, just barely ghosting against the hard nub of your clit.

“I bet you look so pretty right now,” He groans a little and you hear the sound of sheets, “you make the cutest faces when you’re feeling good,”

You make the tiniest noise of acknowledgement, fingers still brushing your cunt.

“Can’t wait to see you fall apart for real,” He confesses, a strain in his tone as he sighs, and you picture him. His long legs spread wide in the bed, stretching from corner to corner, his boxer briefs pushed down and his hand fisting his cock.

You’re going to lose it when you finally get to touch him again.

“You can touch now,” He murmurs, getting your attention back, “are you wet?”

You push your fingers through your folds and sigh when you feel just how slick and swollen you are. With your other hand you find the phone nearby and tap out a quick message - So wet

“That’s good, that’s so good,”

Your fingers start to circle on your oversensitive nub and there’s no way he won’t have you coming in five minutes or less with it feeling this good and his heavy breath in your ear.

“R-rub your clit for me,” He pants and your eyes roll, you can hear the sounds of the sheets rhythmically swishing as he pumps his cock harder, “get your fingers nice and wet,”

You whimper into the pillow, biting down hard on your cheek to keep yourself in check.

“Oh, fuck,” He groans, “sound so pretty,”

You rub harder, faster, your legs stretching wide under the downy comforter to give you better access.

“Baby,” He gets your attention with that, “push two fingers inside yourself, imagine I’m there with you,”

You shift, hand slipping lower and body arching to slide your middle and ring finger as deep as they’ll go. You stay mostly quiet this time, but your breathing is heavy and you’re sure he can hear it.

“Close your eyes,” He murmurs, “picture my fingers,”

You gasp softly.

“Grind,” He tells you, “grind your pussy on my palm and feel my fingers fucking you,”

You bite back a moan, only the slip of a soft sound into the microphone as you start to rock, rolling your hips and working your clit against your hand as you sink into his fantasy. You always took him for soft, the romantic type who’d blush at saying the word ‘pussy’ let alone talking you through what’s bound to be the headiest orgasm of your life, but you’ve never been so happy to be wrong.

“Yes,” Yunho moans and you shudder, “I can hear you moving, you’re doing so good,”

Pleasurable stars burst behind your eyes and you grind harder into your slick palm.

“So good,” He groans and you hear him roll in the bedding, his voice changing to something lower and breathier, and then the rhythmic rock of sheets from his side of the phone tells you all you need to know. You can almost see it, Yunho braced on his forearms, hips thrusting to drive his cock in and out of his hot fist, his face buried in the pillow you slept on the night before.

Heat melts through you, your body alight, and you grapple to find the phone again - Close

“Already?” He says in a flushed exhale, “You’re so hot, that’s so hot,”

You need him to talk to you, you need him to tell you what to do, and you whimper into the bedding as you work your body faster up to the peak.

“You gonna come for me?” He murmurs, “Yeah? Hmm?”

You drop the phone and press a hand over your lips, stifling the threat of a real moan.

“Let go,” His voice is so low in your ear you can practically feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, “come for me,”

Your legs are trembling, knees digging into the mattress and sweat gathered on your brow, and you feel the pressure start to crack open inside you, “Coming,” you whimper into your fingers so he knows, and then it breaks.

“God, good girl, yes,” He groans, “I’m coming with you, fuck,”

Your body curls into itself as you release, locking up in pleasure as you feel wave after wave of heat. You bite down on your knuckle to keep from making a sound, silently falling apart, dimly aware somewhere in your gut that half the heat you felt was his, that part of that pleasure was his own.

Yunho moans in your ear as you ride the sensations, panting and cursing and you can’t wait to feel him pulsing inside you while he sounds this good.

You’re not sure how long it takes you to recover, but when your brain starts to connect again you realize you’re panting against the cool flat of the mattress and both your phone and pillow are nowhere to be found. You swallow hard and pop your head up, but Iseul hasn’t moved an inch and you thank god for her liberal use of melatonin while traveling.

In your ear you register the sound of Yunho’s breath and the end of a sentence, “still there?”

He must have been talking, and you try to focus in on the sound of him now as you slip your hand out from between your sticky thighs.

He exhales slowly and you hear him shifting around, “y/n, baby, are you there?”

“Uh-huh,” You manage.

“Sleepy?” He murmurs, misreading your sound, “That’s okay,”

You make a tiny noise of protest and search the bed for your phone.

“Baby?” He’s confused and you grin at his sleepy sated tone.

Sliding off the bed onto nearly boneless legs, you find your pillow off to the side and your phone underneath. You snap it up and send a message quickly - Wait

“Wait?” He breathes, “Sure, I’m not going anywhere, I’m here,”

You tiptoe to the bathroom as quietly as you can and then shut yourself behind the heavy door, flicking on the light and collapsing to sit on the closed toilet lid.

You disconnect your earbuds and bring your phone to your ear, “Hey,”

“Hey,” He murmurs, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” You smile, still a little breathless, “Hiding in the bathroom for a sec so I could actually talk to you,”

He hums, a quiet, lazy laugh, “Ah,”

“Are you okay?” You find yourself asking, a little nervous tumble in your gut.

“Me?” He says, “I’m incredible, you’re incredible,”

“Yeah?” You draw your knees up, wrapping your arms around yourself and smiling into the phone.

“That wasn’t too much, was it?” He checks, but you still hear the sound of him calling you ‘good girl’ and you shiver.

“Not too much,” You sigh into the phone.

“Good,” He hums, “I thought so, I was trying to pay attention to how you were feeling, but it was a little,”

“Hard to focus?” You offer and he laughs.

“Yeah,” He sighs again, heavy and sated.

“I can’t wait for this tour to be over,” You confess, “I just want to be with you,”

You feel a pang in your chest and listen as Yunho rolls in the sheets, “I know, I want that too,”

A little lump forms in your throat and you breathe through it, “Yunho,”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Have you ever felt like this before?” Your thundering heart has started to slow, and you let your eyes close as you murmur the question.

“Never,” He murmurs, “but I felt this way before we touched,”

You feel his tenderness wrap around your heart as if he were in the room with you, and with a small smile you whisper, “I thought you said you weren’t holding a candle?”

“I lied,” He says softly, “it’s been you for a long time,”

He doesn’t say it, not in so many words, but you feel the way he loves you through the link in a wave. It’s as good as any confession to you, just as honest if not more so.

“I wish I could come upstairs,” You manage, tears pricking your eyes.

You hear him swallow and breathe a slow breath through his nose, “Soon, I promise. We’re going to do this right,”

“I know,”

“Are your headphones still in?” He asks

“No, but I can switch back,”

“Put them back in and go get back in bed,” He softly instructs, “it’s late, but I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, okay?”

“Okay,” You swap back over to your earbuds and adjust them.

“Get back to bed,” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yunho,” You interrupt him, “thank you for staying with me,”

“Always,” He says, and for the first time in your life when someone says they’ll be there, you believe it.

“I’m going back out,” Your voice drops to a whisper, “good night,”

“Mhm,” He listens as you slip back into bed, “just get comfortable, just breathe. I’m right here with you, jagiya, I’ll be right here.”

He murmurs to you softly until your mind is sinking into darkness, body finally unspooling and letting you drop off into sleep. It’s not the same as his arms around you, but it settles you more than any meditation, his voice a steady whisper through your dreams.

In the morning when you wake the call is still connected and the first sound you hear is his slow breath and the steady beat of his heart.

#yunho #jeong yunho #honeyhotteoks fic #yunho x reader #yunho fic #yunho ff #yunho smut #yunho fluff #ateez #ateez fic #ateez ff

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sevikasfemme · 3 months ago

Text

my hands are shaking from holding back from you —

— baby's first fic 🥺👉👈 !! i'm a poet and this is my first time writing a full fic for a character so of course it's about our wife, Sevika ❤️

💋you and sevika broke up a month ago; you taunt her to the point of lightly embarrassing you on a phone call with makeup sex 🤭

💋title is just direct lyrics of Dress by Taylor Swift ; fic has loose inspo/association— middle photo tile is a crop from a piece i commissioned by danacrowart❤️

content tags: lesbian sex, reader has a vagina, femme!reader, bottom!reader, top!sevika, jealousy, possessiveness, dom/sub undertones, strap-on use, impact play, implied/referenced drug use, breakup/makeup, some fluff, semi-public sex

word count: 4.6k | read on ao3 | bluesky

You and Sevika had broken up nearly a month ago. She had given you some bullshit excuse about fearing for your wellbeing because of her line of work—fucking self-sabotaging martyr that she was. You called her out on it; told her it was a stupid reason to end the relationship, and she didn’t even argue. Instead, she had the nerve to attempt to reassure you that, despite your shared social circles, things wouldn’t be awkward because the two of you would still be “best friends.”

You later found out from Ran that there had been some threat made by a disgruntled enforcer involving you, and knowing Sevika, that was probably the impetus that led to her even considering ending things with you. Your safety being at risk. It didn’t change that you were heartbroken, angry, and tear-stained on the best of the days after she left. Not to say that she was doing much better; she’d started chain smoking between glasses of whiskey in the mornings, losing terribly in her games at the last drop; hell, she’d been too dysregulated to work the first three days following the breakup. Silco had never seen her so emotionally volatile.

Despite your heartache, you spent the weeks apart trying to forget Sevika, while all she did was mope in the memory of you—wrestling with her decision that led to her own misery. Inevitably, your friends encouraged you to ‘get back out there,’ to which you, a bit too eagerly, agreed. Were you almost solely motivated by the thrill of potentially seeing Sevika at a location she was known to frequent? Maybe. Still, you let them preen over you, hyping you up as they fawn over how pretty you look; hair and makeup done in the way you knew Sevika liked. The dress you slipped into was not one she had personally seen or had the opportunity to praise. Still, it was her favorite color— something you’d intentionally noted when you bought it out of spite, vying for the opportunity to flaunt it in her direction. It had become the catalyst in your daydreams of getting back together with her— daydreams that were borderline maladaptive, at this point... Still, if she was going to insist on remaining apart, you were going to make her regret it.

The Last Drop never changed— buzzing and neon; alive with shimmer-filled patrons whose pupils were too wide. Arms linked with your friends, letting them move you, you enter the familiar space—your eyes were trained on Sevika’s regular spots; searching for her. You hoped to see her brooding at the end of the stairwell, peacocking while she plays poker in one of the round booths, or smoking near the exit door in the back. Alas, to your disappointment, your eyes don’t find hers, and you are suddenly less interested in being out at all.

For most of the evening, you mindlessly swipe on one of your dating apps, barely engaged in the conversation amongst your friends. You match with several mildly interesting people—you even set up a date for later that night—but you’re bored; and your eyes keep flitting around the space, hoping for a glimpse of Sevika. The hours tick by, and you’re almost ready to make your friends take you home—but then you hear her voice behind you, saying your name, her tone riddled with confusion, inquisition, and something else you can’t place.

For a moment, everything around you seems to just stop. Your eyes lock with hers and it’s as if the last month apart never happened.

“Why are you here?” she continues— and her tone; it doesn��t sit right with you. Your features settle into a glare, as the prior month of yearning to be with her slams to the forefront of your mind. You were pissed. You open your mouth to give her a smart-ass reply when her voice cuts you off.

“C’mere. We need to talk,” she grunts, her prosthetic fingers curling around your arm unexpectedly, drawing a noise of protest from you. You roll your eyes before letting her drag you upstairs to her office, shooting your friends a look that says, ‘I’m fine’ before she pushes you into the room and kicks the door closed.

Now she’s scowling down at you, and you’re giving it right back to her, crossing your arms.

“A ‘hello’ would have been preferable.” you snap. Sevika doesn’t flinch or react, sighing before leaning against the door.

“Why are you here?” she says again, although this time she almost sounds sad.

Your expression falters only slightly before you reply harshly, “Am I not allowed to be?”

Sevika scoffs, shaking her head, her short hair falling in her face. “You never come to The Last Drop unless I’m with you. You have no interest otherwise—”

You snort, interrupting her. “That was when we were dating,” you clarify, stepping forward and tilting your head slightly to glare up at her. Her eyebrows pull into a concerned arch, her expression softening. She’s looking at you like she’s worried about you, almost making you ease up. Almost. You step closer, examining her. You still cared about her…still loved her, so of course, seeing the subtle bags under her eyes made you wonder if she was taking care of herself.

“Are you…mad that I’m here?” you ask hesitantly, trying not to fidget with your nails. You were worried; feeling guilty for being so desperate to see her, considering your appearance at The Last Drop had made her look at you like you as if you were a ghost. Now, of course, you were ridiculing yourself for potentially hurting her more by being here. Nevertheless, you were also grappling with the fact that she broke up with you; so did she really have any right to look so distraught at your presence alone?

She seems surprised at your question, glancing down at your almost-fidgeting fingers, and then it clicks for her; your aloof, irritable demeanor is disingenuous. A smirk crept onto her face, and you picked up on the upward turn of her mouth.

You scoff, stepping back away and shaking your head, “Forget I asked—” Now she’s grabbing your arm again.

“Sweet of you to care, but m’not mad,” she mumbles, “just surprised. Thought I broke your heart,” she clicks her tongue, shaking her head and looking you over. “But clearly you’re doing just fine,” she notes, her eyes lingering on your curves too long.

“You did break my heart– you insufferable––” You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath and rolling your eyes. You let her circle you before raising your eyebrow at her. “You don’t own the place, you know…” you protest, wanting to know what she’s thinking–what her intentions were, trying to coax it out of her.

Sevika runs her prosthetic fingers over the strap of your dress, tugging it lightly to bring you closer to her, humming, “Interesting choice of words…” She moves to touch your face, and you swat her hand away.

“Stop flirting; why did you drag me up here? I’m not leaving just because you’re pissed off that I’m —”

She huffs at you, snapping the strap of your dress back to your skin, “I’m not pissed off, you brat,” she snaps, pushing you back into the door, her prosthetic arm caging you in as she leans against you, her flesh hand gripping your waist to move you slightly, then reaching behind your hip to lock the door.

You huff back at her action, “and why are you doing that?” you ask, your eyes flicking down to her hand. Sevika laughs mockingly and runs her hand back up your side.

“Do you want to be interrupted?” she asks, grinning at you. You look at her in disbelief, a laugh escaping you.

“Oh no, we are not having sex,” you shake your head, “you have lost your mind if you think—” Your words die on your tongue as her hand shoots up to grip your hair, tugging your head back to look at her.

“Say that again,” she demands lowly “Tell me, ‘we aren’t having sex’ again, and I’ll stop. I’ll stop coming to The Last Drop altogether,” she smirks, watching your eyes flicker, glazing over–briefly–before sharpening back into a glare. 'Stubborn', she thinks to herself. She chuckles at your lack of response, dropping her head to kiss at your throat. Under normal circumstances, this would be enough to make you cave, to let her throw you on her desk and submit to her like she wanted—but now? You were livid, shocked at her audacity— she broke up with you.

“You have lost it.” You hiss, pushing at her with your fists on her chest. Her gray eyes look hurt before she narrows them at you again, grabbing your chin with her prosthetic hand to make you look up at her.

“Are you truly trying to pretend that you didn’t come here, dolled up how I like you,” she wets her lips as she eyes your dress “in this new little number, hoping to see me?” she goads, challenging you. You push at her again, and she laughs. “Admit it—you’re dressed up for me, you want me back,” she smirks.

You turn around to try and leave through the door, fed up with her attitude as you fumble with the lock. Then you feel her grab your wrists, pinning you to the door once again, her front now pressed to your back.

“Admit it” she repeats. You shake your head, rolling your eyes, deciding to poke the bear…

“I have a date tonight,” you snap, looking at her over your shoulder, watching her face fall into anger. It was as if you had knocked the wind out of her; she could not stand hearing that you had a date planned. The thought of someone else, the sheer potential of someone else, looking at you, touching you, kissing you, hearing you moan their name the way you moaned hers— she wanted to choke you for even suggesting that as a possibility; wanted to hold you down and remind you who you belonged to.

“Cancel it.” She hissed.

“No—” you snipe back immediately, your eyes flicking to your phone in your bag.

Sevika followed your eyes, and rage struck through her as she realized you were planning to keep your date. She wasn’t thinking straight at this point, her possessiveness and jealousy pushing her over the edge. She released one of your wrists, whipping you around to face her and reaching to snatch your phone with the other. Her body was trembling from anger as she loomed above you, her dark gaze locking on yours, her expression cold.

“Cancel your date.” She said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument, but it just eggs you on, and now you’re fully committed to pissing her off.

“Why would I do that?” You ask innocently, your teeth dripping with saliva as you smirk at her. “You’re my ex, Sevika, I don’t have to listen to anything you say,” you sneer. Sevika blinks, shocked at your disobedience, something she was not used to in her relationship with you.

You take it further, grinning, “What? Are you not used to hearing me tell you no?” you taunt, “maybe you should have thought about that before you—”

SLAP.

The sound of her flesh hand connecting with your cheek is followed by buzzing silence, and you’re acutely aware of the heat pooling in your tummy. You blink back tears, your widened eyes finding hers again. She’s glaring. 'Oh fuck', you think, your face flushing pink from the sting of her slap.

“You know better.” she says, rubbing softly at the spot on your cheek she’d smacked. You open your mouth to say something, but she’s shaking her head. Sevika grabs a fistful of your hair in her metal hand and drags you across the room, sweeping your legs up and from under you onto the couch before pushing your face into the worn linen of the cushion.

“If you won’t cancel your date on your own–” she mumbles, lifting your ass and angrily shoving your dress up around your waist, your dampened panties now on display for her, “I’m going to help you,” she snaps, smirking down at your arousal seeping through the cotton of your underwear. You move to sit up, and she splays her fingers across your back, keeping you down. Sevika sucks her teeth, shaking her head as you hear her move her other hand to un-do her pants. That’s a sound you’re familiar with…

“Sevika–” you protest with warning before your breath catches at the feel of her tugging your panties to the side; familiar silicone slipping up to nudge your clit. You jolt, your back arching further under her hand on your back. Sevika could not believe you had so casually refused her. She may have been the one to end things, but that was for your own safety; how could you be so oblivious to that rationale?

It didn’t matter now, though. As far as Sevika was concerned, you were hers, and you apparently needed a reminder that no one else could give you what she could; that no one else was allowed to touch you. Her expression softens as she leans over you, nudging your ear with her nose.

“Tell me,” she starts, a gentleness in her tone that was agonizingly familiar, “do you want me to stop?” she asks, earning a quick shake of your head as you look back up over your shoulder to meet her gaze. She smirks. “Atta girl,” she murmurs, pecking your cheek.

“And your pretty face? you okay?” she soothes, letting her lips linger on your cheek until you nod again. Then she’s moving back up and positioning herself behind you. She bites her lip, pleased at the way your thighs spread for her as she begins prodding at you with the tip of her strap. She grunts, her hand on your back moving to dig its nails into the soft flesh of your ass.

“Fuck…” she curses under her breath, squeezing your rear before shifting her grip, opening you more for her as she slowly leans her weight into you, her eyes glued to how your pussy swallows her cock, inch by inch. Sevika’s too mesmerized to register you groaning at first, but when she hears you, she stills, rubbing her thumb over the soft skin of your ass, like she’s contemplating something. Then, suddenly, Sevika leans over you, snapping her hips so that she’s hilted inside of you completely.

You yelp; panting as your fingers grasp onto the throw pillow your head was propped on. 'Mine', Sevika thinks to herself, pleased with your lack of protest. Sevika was fully convinced that she was the only one allowed to have you, and thinking about the reality that you had actually planned to go on a date—planned on letting someone else even look at you; it was more than she could damn well take. She was angry, jealous, desperate to remind you that you were hers; she slammed her hips into you repeatedly, not giving you an opportunity to adjust to her properly; she couldn’t. She needed you now.

You whimper, eyes hazy and half-lidded as you look back over your shoulder at her. Sevika smirked, digging her fingers into your hips. Her breathing was becoming more and more dysregulated as she picked your phone back up, thumbing through your messages. She looks at you smugly.

“Do you still want to go on that date?” she asked; a syrupy, taunting sweetness in her tone as she pushed her hips against you in a hard and possessive thrust. You whine, shaking your head, unable to form words. Sevika laughs, leaning down over you again, her body covering your own as her hand tugged at your hair.

“No?” she growls against your ear, her lips trailing against the side of your jaw “Why the change of heart, hm?” she mocks.

A breathy, “Just want you, Sev–” leaves your parted lips; your cheeks flush with embarrassment at how easy you were for her. Your gasped confession, combined with the fact that you used her nickname, made her heart rate elevate. She knew exactly how to break you; how to make you submit.

“What was that?” she whispered against your neck, her breath hot against your skin as she continued to softly pound into you. You groan in embarrassed frustration, struggling to form words. In your blissed-out state, you fail to notice her tabbing over to the contact of the date you had set up, and pressing down on the call button.

Sevika couldn’t help but smirk as she did so, hearing the line start to ring. It was such a petty thing to do, but she couldn’t deny the feeling of satisfaction she got at the idea of cutting your date short before it even started. She wanted to hear you try to tell your date that you were no longer available.

The butch remained over you, still thrusting, and held the phone to your ear. Your eyes widen and you try to silence yourself, tucking your head into the throw pillow to muffle your moans. She grinned as she saw your head turn.

“No,” she said firmly, yanking back on your hair to pull your face out of the pillow. “Don’t you dare hold your voice back, baby.” You freeze when you hear your date’s voice on the other line as they pick up.

“Hello?” they greet, and you bite down on your lip to quiet yourself. Sevika’s smug expression remained plastered on her face as she heard them pick up. She nipped at your opposite ear, whispering to you as your date repeated their greeting, trying to get a response from you.

“Tell them you can’t go on your date tonight,” she instructs, no longer thrusting into you, only grinding continuously, the tip of her strap rubbing deep inside you, bumping your cervix lewdly. You hesitate, and Sevika tuts, moving the hand that was gripping your hair to wrap around your throat.

“Don’t make me repeat myself—” she hissed, pulling almost entirely out of your cunt before quickly shoving herself back into you, causing you to squeak. You try, you truly try, to keep your tone even as you speak.

“H-hey—” you start, clearing your throat, “I—”

Sevika is laughing against your ear, her hips slowly picking up pace, wanting to hear you struggle to tell them you couldn’t go. Needing to hear it. She squeezed your throat a little, encouraging you to continue. You swallow thickly, eyes rolling softly before you try to speak again.

“I’m so – ah– M’so sorry—” you stammer out. “I need to raincheck our—our—”

Sevika chuckles at you struggling, licking the shell of your ear. “What was that, doll? I don’t think your date heard you properly.” She teased, letting go of your throat and running her hand down to palm at your breast. Your cheeks are burning pink, and you struggle to stop yourself from moaning out her name.

“I’m just— n-not able to go tonight—” you pant through suppressed whimpers. Sevika felt a wave of possessive satisfaction rush through her, her pupils dilating. She was greedy, though, and found herself needing to drive the point home harder. She nibbles at your ear again.

“Who are you canceling this date for?” she demands. You whimper, cheeks hot as you try to avoid her question; you knew what she was doing. She hums, nipping at your earlobe and neck, her lips sloppily sucking at you. “Who? Hm?” she repeats. You couldn’t contain yourself any longer.

“Sevika—” you moan sweetly, head dropping on the pillow again and eyes fluttering closed as you succumbed to the pleasure she was giving you, knowing your, now canceled-on date had definitely heard your erotic declaration.

Sevika kissed your ear as she heard the moan you finally let slip after trying desperately to keep your voice in check. She moved her hand to tease at your now swollen clit, causing you to yelp. She put the phone up to her ear, ego-tripping on the way your back was arching to meet her thrusts as she spoke.

“Sorry,” she practically purred into the mic of the cellphone, her tone sardonic. “She won’t be able to make it on that date tonight. Something…came up,” she said as she imagined the confusion on your date’s face at the sound of her voice, but it was all the more satisfying when you whimpered again. She continued to speak, her fingers rubbing tight, slow circles over your twitching bundle nerves.

“Yeah,” Sevika breathes, her own eyes half-lidded now, squeezing harshly on your clit and moaning when you jerk back on her in response, “yeah, she’s quite busy.”

You’re keening, looking over your shoulder again to pout up at her, your cheeks rosy—embarrassed by the pornographic squelching of your cunt wrapped around her cock. She caught your gaze, her eyes softening at yours as she pressed firmly on your clit again, chiding as she shook her head, her mouth pulling away from the receiver of the phone to direct her words to you.

“Aww, baby, what’s that pout for, hm?” she coos. “Blushing because they can hear you taking it like the good girl I know you are?”

Your lip wobbles, overstimulated and flustered; a strained cry passes your lips –“Please—no more—”

Sevika takes pity on you, and her touch becomes gentle as she puts the phone in front of your face, her thumb hovering over the button to switch to a video call. You shriek and duck your head back into the pillow.

“Ohmygod Sev!” you protest, causing her to laugh and press a kiss to your shoulder before ending the call, tossing the phone aside.

“Just messin’ with you, princess,” she hums, rubbing her hand soothingly through your hair before gripping at the roots, tugging your face up. “Now,” she sighs, slipping out of you and using her grip on your hair to guide you onto your back. You whimper in protest, feeling painfully empty as you pout up at her.

“What did I say about pouting, hm?” she scolds, tracing your bottom lip with her thumb. You blush under her stare, suddenly self-conscious without the distraction of the phone call. Her lip twitches into a grin as she slips her copper claws under your dress, scratching lightly at the soft fat of your torso. Your eyebrows turn upward, and your eyes close, mouth agape as you try to find words again. Sevika kisses at your jaw.

“Flattered you wore this just for me,” she coos, “but I wanna see you, honey,” she says softly, rubbing her hands up and down your sides before tugging up the hem of your dress. “Arms up, babygirl,” she instructs, slipping it up and off, immediately groaning at the sight of you, bra-less, left only in your underwear before her. Her lips are instantaneously on your neck, hands cupping your chest eagerly.

“Missed you, baby—” she mutters into your throat. You wanted to deny her, to punish her in some way for ever leaving you in the first place, but you were too far gone, you just wanted to be close to her. Sevika slips your panties off before hiking your legs up around her hips, pressing her forehead to yours as she thrust back into you, moaning softly. Your arms come to wrap around her neck, burying your face into the dip of her shoulder. Sevika hums lowly at you clinging to her.

“M’sorry, angel,” she mumbles into your hair, kissing at your head as she fucks into you. You knew what she meant. She had clearly missed you too.

“You– better be—” you choke out, your lower lip still puffed out slightly. Sevika moves to hold your throat, rubbing her thumb over your pulse before reaching down to roll one of your peaked nipples between her fingers, her hips snapping to you rhythmically.

“Fuck, baby—” she moans, “taking me so good— so good, angel,” she praises, moving to press two of her organic fingers against your plush lips.

“Open,” she commands. You don’t argue— your mouth parts and she slips her fingers into your mouth. “Suck,” she orders, pinching your other nipple before trailing her hand down between your legs, tapping on your clit several times as she watches you jerk from the stimulation from her prosthetic, the cold metal sending streams of isolated pleasure through you.

She chuckles, bringing her lips to kiss at your neck—her hips were grinding into you, her thumb was on your clit, her flesh fingers were pumping in and out of your mouth, and you were seeing stars. Sevika sucks on the sensitive skin at the base of your throat, biting harshly, earning a muffled yelp from your full mouth, before laving at the spot with her tongue; soothing you.

You paw at her shoulders, feeling overstimulated and too close to orgasm to speak, your eyes rolling as you mewl on her fingers. Sevika’s biting turns to kissing on your neck.

“Close, hm?” she mutters against you, panting as she withdraws her fingers from your mouth, moving her right hand to work at your clit, pinching it suddenly when she pulls her metal digits up to hold you by the back of your head, tilting you so that you’re looking at her.

“You’re mine, understand me, angel?” she says firmly, drinking in the sight of you; disheveled hair, pink cheeks, mouth agape, and dilated pupils. You nod weakly, your back arching sporadically as you feel your orgasm cresting.

She kisses your lips briefly before letting her head fall to your neck “Come for me, princess,” she encourages. “Need to feel my girl’s pretty pussy come for me,” she coos.

Her words send you over, a strangled cry leaving your throat as you cling to her, legs trembling as your cunt clenches around her cock, your climax crashing over you; clit throbbing from Sevika’s attention.

Sevika moans, biting down on your neck to ground herself as she continues to softly rut into you, letting you ride out your release. Her eyes flick up to stare in awe at how your lip trembles as you try to regulate your breathing. Her hips eventually still, and she releases your neck from her teeth, beginning to pepper kisses over your face, bringing both her hands to cup your cheeks.

“My girl,” she mutters into your skin. You melt into her touch, mind still reeling from the fact that she had canceled your date in such an inflammatory way. She seems to pick up on your thoughts, and she laughs, nuzzling into your neck and sighing.

“I’m not dumb enough to let you go twice… if you’ll still have me…” she murmurs, sounding much more vulnerable and much less cocky now. You smile, smirking softly as you scratch softly at her scalp.

“I’ll always have you, Sev,” you reassure her, kissing her forehead. “And for the record…” you start, slyly, as she looks up at you, eyebrows raised.“I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” you say matter-of-factly. She lets out a breathy laugh, shaking her head affectionately as she pulls you into another kiss.

#sevika #sevika arcane #arcane #lesbian #sevika x reader #butch #sevika x you #sevika smut #sevika fluff #sevika imagine #butch4femme #femme4butch #butch bait #arcane fanfic

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shra-vasti · 1 month ago

Text

BE THERE FOR YOU, PSH

SYNOPSIS : You love your two best friends with your whole heart. The three of you have been inseparable since middle school, bound by laughter, secrets, and a promise to always stand by each other through thick and thin. So why does a strange, bitter feeling rises in your stomach every time they laugh a little too loudly together, their eyes meeting in ways that make you feel like the outsider? You try to shake it off. It's nothing. Right?

Or in which you're stuck in a love triangle with your two best friends.

• PAIRING: Park Sunghoon x afab!reader

• WORD COUNT: 18.4k

• CONTENT TAGS: Non idol au, university setting, angst, hurt/comfort, friends to ?, love triangle, slow burn (kdrama level slow, sorry I got carried away), slice of life, feeling isolated, mental illness (refer warnings section), emotional baggage, unrequited love, found family, miscommunication, alcohol, mentions of thunderstorms, Original character named Soojin, reader-insert, reader's hair are long enough to be tucked behind ears, Sunghoon is taller comparatively.

• WARNINGS: HEAVY angst, feeling isolated and ignored, imposter syndrome, depression, anxiety, self doubt, fear of failure, unhealthy habits, ED, emotional drainage, existential crisis, hospitalization (not reader), IV drops, depiction of blood on reader and Sunghoon, reader gets injured, attempted suicide x 2, depiction of character's death and funeral, unrequited love, hurt more than comfort, spiraling, Sunghoon gets wasted, no smut, slightly suggestive, let me know if I missed any.

• AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first full length fic, please leave feedback. I'm trying to get out of my years long writer's block. Like, reblog and comment would be appreciated. It feels nice to get back to writing. I hope you'll enjoy reading it♡ Happy reading♡

The cold winter wind nipped at your skin, you clutch your hands together. Your eyes drifted across the campus, a scowl surfacing on your face. You were waiting for Sunghoon and Soojin to meet at your usual hangout place in the campus, the common sitting area outside of the university's far right building. Few of the students occupied the area, some completing their works, others hanging around with their friend group.

Jake snickered from where he was sitting in front of you, pushing up his god-awful glasses with his one hand while he sipped his "deathpresso"- the infamous 7-shot espresso, as you liked to call it. You shot him a glare, leaning your back on the bench as Jay wrapped his hand around your shoulder, bringing your body closer to his, you obliged ofcourse, seeking solace in the warmth his body provided. Heeseung was sitting on your other side, giving absolutely zero fucks about his surrounding as he typed away his essay like his life depended on it (it was due tomorrow and he just started).

"These classes are draining the life out of me," Soojin sighed dramatically as if she wasn't one of the top students at her program, she removed the scarf wrapped around her neck and placed it neatly around yours and gave it a gentle tug. "I always need to look after you, why did you forget your scarf again?" She made herself comfortable beside Jake, your eyes lingered on Sunghoon who steadily walked towards your friend circle and sat on the unoccupied place beside Soojin. You smiled sheepishly at her as you watched Sunghoon button up her coat all the way up to safeguard her from the harsh winter breeze.

"I'm sorry, I forgot," You started but Sunghoon gave you a tight look which screamed disappointment rather than anger. "Yet again?" He raised an eyebrow, shutting you up completely. You look down pouting, the air around felt heavier as his eyes weighed you down. "I was thinking of throwing a party this year for my birthday," Jay expectantly looked at everyone, successfully diverting the topic, as he slipped his hand off your shoulder.

"You? Party? I think I've seen everything in my life now," Jay threw a crumpled piece of paper in Jake's direction as soon as those words slipped past his mouth.

This has been your life from the past three semesters, Jake and Jay's constant bickering coupled with Heeseung's struggle of keeping up with his 'academically challenging' classes. When you, Sunghoon and Soojin first decided to take admission in Decelis, you thought it would be just you three against the world like it has always been but now as you sit here surrounded by three more people who decided to take comfort in your little trio you wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Yeah that sounds like a well needed break before the summer exams kick our ass," Sunghoon laughed, "right?" He glanced towards Soojin expecting her to answer back but her silence made everyone's focus shift towards her. Your eyebrows pulled together as you noticed her drifting off from reality again, "Soojin," You called out making her flinch, she met your eyes before she looked towards Sunghoon who was now facing towards her with raised eyebrows. She laughed awkwardly as she half heartedly agreed to whatever question Sunghoon asked which she did not even listen to.

"Are you okay? If you're not feeling well we can leave," Soojin looked around at others before declining Sunghoon's words. Sunghoon sighed deeply as he tucked her hair behind her ear, looking into her eyes as if to reconfirm and she nodded her head, taking his hand in her hand and holding it tightly. There it was, the sickening feeling inside your stomach, back again as you looked at their intertwined hands. You swallowed the lump which began to form in your throat, inhaling deeply as you tore your eyes away from them.

Which proved to be a wrong move because your eyes landed on a certain boy with his god-awful glasses, who somehow was already looking at you as if he could see right through you. He sipped his espresso while throwing you a look of 'this-is-the-nth-time-I've-caught-you-giving-that-downbad-look-towards-your-long-time-bestfriend.' Your shoulders slumped, he scoffed, breaking eye contact and made a dramatic show of standing, gaining everyone's attention, even Heeseung's.

"I think I'm done for today guys," He smiled, narrowing his eyes at his three roommates. Jake, Jay, Sunghoon and Heeseung decided it would be better to live together after constantly struggling to find better housing separately outside of the campus as they refused to stay inside the campus dorms and Jay was more than happy to welcome the "Roofless Rizzlers" in his apartment. Jay stood up joining Jake while Heeseung started packing his belongings. He gave you a quick side hug before walking towards Soojin, ruffling her hair as he asked Sunghoon, "You coming?"

"You guys go ahead, I'll walk Soojin towards her dorm building first," Heeseung nodded, already expecting Sunghoon's answer before the words left his mouth and made his way towards the other boys patiently waiting for him. Your eyes followed them till they disappeared completely out of your sight. You stood up, adjusting the scarf Soojin placed around your neck, taking a few steps ahead and kneeling in front of where she was sitting. "Do you need me to stay with you today?" You softly caressed her hand as concern clouded your eyes, mimicking Sunghoon's.

She sighed like she carried the weight of the world around her shoulders, and maybe she really did. Every heavy breath, every soft sigh that escaped her cherry lips indicated the turmoil she carried deep within her very being. You guessed that's the price you need to pay when you're too good at what you do. As far as you remember Soojin has been an ideal daughter, teacher's favorite, a helping hand for fellow students, and a shoulder you and Sunghoon have constantly cried on. She's perfect, much like her long hair which sways with wind as if it flows just to touch her.

At one point of your life you thought nothing could get better than it already was for her, she was always at the center of the little bubble she had created, till that bubble shattered. The pieces stung your heart equally as it did to your hand when you plucked large fragments of glass from her wrist. Sunghoon frantically called the ambulance. Soojin had tried taking her own life in her room when her parents were away from the town.

Maybe it was a mother's instinct, maybe it was God's will as her grandmother said, when Soojin's mother called you, worried as she asked you to stay with Soojin that unfortunate night. You agreed, already texting Sunghoon to come join at the impromptu sleepover, you both wanted to surprise her but it was you who got surprised instead when you found her unconscious but still breathing in her room.

That night the ride towards the hospital was as chilling as the weather today, that night as Sunghoon and you sat beside each other covered in blood outside of the operation room, you made a promise to be there for Soojin, to take care of her, to prioritize her well being over your own needs and wants. You cried as the nurse tended your wounded hand, Sunghoon just sat beside you holding you close wondering if you were crying because of the injury or the sheer shock of it all.

You were teenagers then, you're adults now. But the feelings you felt that day were as clear as the morning sky mid-summer. And that feeling was creeping back upon you once again as you paid more attention towards Soojin. Her parents, grandparents, you and Sunghoon did everything you could do to help Soojin cope. Therapy, family trips, friends outing, you name it. Everyone was desperate to help her find her light again. You never talked about the suicide note you found in her room to anyone, not even Sunghoon, at her own request. It's still neatly folded and well kept at the far corner of your closest. You never read it but daily prayed to the universe that it will disappear in thin air somehow.

"I'll meet you guys tomorrow," You three were standing in front of her dorm building now. You bid her goodbye and watched as she made her way towards her designated floor. From the corner of the building Lia, Soojin's roommate, made her way towards you, a flicker of recognition and a smile of acknowledgement graced her lips as she patted your shoulder, "Don't worry, I got you guys, I'll call if she'll need you." The dorm selection happened on merit basis and you were second on the waiting list. You had to stay outside of the campus, life would've been easier if you were living with Soojin.

Sunghoon is silent beside you as you make your way towards the apartment you stay in. The sidewalk is draped with snow, it gleams with a slippery sheen in the soft evening light. You take a cautious glance towards the man you've come to recognize as your childhood best friend as you continue walking. Although things have changed significantly from how they were before, you're glad that Sunghoon's habit of walking you home never did.

Ever since the incident with Soojin, he has taken it upon himself to always be available for her, or maybe he takes care of her so feverishly because feels he needs to. Doesn't matter if his classes end early or late, if he's free or busy, he's by Soojin's side way before anyone else. You think maybe that's the reason you, even though you still wake up in the middle of the night by the nightmares, still sleep a little bit more soundly than he ever could.

He catches your eyes before you could tear it off of him, "why are you so forgetful, you know I've to be more focused on Soojin," He's nagging again, it's like a clockwork at this point, most of his thoughts begins and ends with her, you aren't even sure where Sunghoon ends and where Soojin begins. Perhaps you forget things because you want to see if he would care just as much if it were you in her place, you think you got your answers now.

You just look at him, your mind drifting towards the promise you made with each other for Soojin's sake. It was you who suggested that promise so why did it sting this so bad now? The bitter taste lingering in your mouth, why won't it go away easily? Since when did taking care of your ill-friend turned into a silent competition for you to have Sunghoon's attention? You're ruining everything you've worked hard to build, Soojin needs you both more than anything. You're pulled back to reality by Sunghoon as he tugs at your scarf, you silently glare at him as he begins taking off his gloves and putting it inside his coat's pocket.

A soft gasp leaves your lips before you could stop, his hands warm in comparison to your stiff and numb ones. He held your hands with such tenderness as if they would break if he didn't handle them carefully. He cradled your small hands in with his larger one, softly blowing warm air into them. His eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed, completely immersed into the small act like there was nothing more significant than this moment. He pulled back, not before placing a gentle kiss on your connected hands, he exhaled, you shuddered.

"Try to look after yourself more," His voice was barely audible, like he was talking to himself more than you, "please? For me?" And who are you to deny when he looked at you as if it physically pained him to even think about you being in pain. He reached for his pocket again, slipping his gloves onto your bare hands. His eyes traced the path from your glove-covered hands to your eyes, "you'll do that for me yeah?" He waited till you nodded your head, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

He moved closer, tucking your hair behind the ear before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. You inhaled a sharp breath, the sky exhaled out the snowflakes.

Jay called you early in the morning in order to prepare for his birthday celebration, you had a clear schedule which Jay wanted to take advantage of. Jake, Heeseung and Sunghoon weren't present in their apartment as they have classes, Soojin would tag along with them after her class ends. You're helping Jay with the decorations, a displeased look painted on your face, "what are we? 10?" You skeptically side-eye your dear friend who was happily helping you stick a giant banner of 'Happy Birthday to me: the man, the myth, the majesty,' written in bold.

His signature cheeky, roblox-styled grin graced his face, he blew you a kiss before hugging your waist. "You love me anyway," You did your best to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him today, ruffling his hair lightly as you finished sticking the banner. Both of you look around the decorations you did. It was funny how Jay was helping you with his own birthday party. "Is the cake ready? Did you call the bakery? Let's buy drinks on the way back." Jay nodded at your words, already searching for his car keys as you grabbed your phone for a long day ahead of you.

"I'll get ready in Sunghoon's room," you informed as you made your way towards the stairs, Jay walking in front of you. Exhaustion creeped upon you due to all the preparations, you wonder how Jay managed to not even break a sweat the whole day, probably too excited since it was his day today. You entered Sunghoon's room which he shared with Jake, all of your belongings neatly placed beside his desk. You took a few essentials and made your way towards the attached bathroom deciding that a quick shower won't hurt you as they still had an hour at least to return from their classes.

You smiled to yourself, feeling a bit cheerful after taking a shower, getting dressed quickly and deciding to do your hair and makeup after they arrive. You sat on his desk chair, eyes mindlessly roaming around the room. You've been here countless times, still you feel a bit flustered being here alone with your thoughts. You decided irritating Jay would be a better option until others arrive. "Are you done getting ready?" You called Jay out from outside his room, a muffled 'leave me alone, I need to prepare to look my best' was all you heard in return.

Pouting, you made your way back towards Sunghoon's room, leaning against the doorframe in boredom, thinking of ways to entertain yourself for time being when your eyes landed on a hoodie sprawled below Sunghoon's bed. "Seriously?" You shook your head as you grabbed it to put it in the laundry basket when your eyes landed on two boxes, a red one fully closed, another black one half opened lying beneath the bed. They say curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction entered the chat as you sat on the floor to see what was inside it.

And maybe your mother was right when she said curiosity will lead to your downfall one day, because as you open the black box you were surprised to see it was filled with polaroids of Sunghoon and Soojin, planned and candid ones, on different occasions dating back from middle school till university, some cute keychains, few charms, and a bracelet which you don't recognize from your memory.

Silence grew heavy on your shoulders as you looked throughout the pictures, almost all of them were clicked when all three of you hung out, hell, some of the pictures were captured by you but there was no sign of you in any of the polaroids, you exhaled a breath you didn't even realize you were holding before keeping the box where it was. You stood up, dragging your feet towards Jake's bed and sat down, mind going haywire with all the thoughts and feelings you were suddenly bombarded with.

You did it upon yourself truthfully, if only you knew how to not snoop your nose in every single matter. A voice at the back of your head nagged at you, calling you stupid, about how you were just third wheeling in their relationship, about how their life would've been better if you weren't a part of it. Another voice chimed in, this one a little bit softer as it reminded you that those two are your best friends, they love you, they aren't isolating you from their lives, that they deserve to share a special bond with each other as much as you do with each of them.

You reluctantly decided to do your hair and makeup in order to escape from your feelings. Others will be arriving soon and you didn't want your feelings to get the best of you and ruin your friend's birthday. And as you got ready for the party, eye glassy as you bite back your tears, you swore to not fall in love with Sunghoon and be an obstacle in his happiness. You refused to let your negativity win, Soojin deserves the happiness only Sunghoon could bring in her life.

The music was blaring through the speaker and the crowd was alive, every corner of the room echoed with life and laughter. The air was a bit suffocating but it vibrated with full joy. The cameras were flashing, the laughter of your friends drowned into the night's symphony. The celebration continued, each of your friends giving their 'unsolicited advice,' and words of encouragement to the birthday boy. You sat on the couch beside Jake, who was already half drunk, his head on your shoulder as he mumbled incoherent facts about fishes.

"Something is bothering you," Jake's voice was nothing more than a whisper as he looked up at you. "Nothing is bothering me," you reasoned with him. Jake has always been someone who was able to see right through your acts and while you were great at hiding things and pretending to be fine, Jake somehow always catches you right in the act.

"If that nothing goes by the name of Sunghoon then I'll agree," Your eyes widened at his remark and even though he was only whispering you wouldn't risk anyone hearing it. "Seriously Jake, it's not what you think," Jake shook his head dismissing your words completely. "He deserves to know how you feel, you know, something about all that friends don't keep secrets and shit."

"I don't think that's a good idea, plus Soojin and him seem to be more comfy with each other since past few years anyway," you smiled bitterly as those words left your mouth and thankfully Jake chose not to intervene further and you silently thanked him for that. Maybe the alcohol finally got him, you weren't ready to have this conversation today anyway. You weren't sure how long you'll be able to hold onto these feelings but you needed to get rid of them for Soojin and Sunghoon's sake.

You scanned the room, many people left, leaving only close friends behind. Jay greeted the last guest goodbye, barely able to stand as Sunghoon balanced his weight. Even when he was shit-faced drunk, the gentleman knew his etiquette well. Now only the boys, you and Soojin were left, Jake still by your side, and you still haven't decided if you want to crash out here or go home.

"Let's watch a movie," You don't really comprehend who said that but you sighed in relief when everyone else just groaned in return. Soojin sat beside you, her arms crossed trying her best to fight back sleep, you chuckled at her state before giving her temple a kiss which immediately brought a smile on her face, Sunghoon sat beside Soojin. Jay and Heeseung sat on each of the love-seat respectively.

"I'm so tired, I just want to sleep forever," You might have to agree with Jay on this one. Sunghoon put his hand at the back of the couch, his actions prompting Soojin to put her head on his shoulder with practiced ease, like the place was meant for her to rest, like she knew everytime Sunghoon opened his arms, it was for her to find home. Jake was almost half asleep on you, your head buzzing in the aftermath of all the noise and screams. You tilt your head to rest against the couch, very much aware of Soojin softly complaining to Sunghoon about feeling tired after all the classes, then party, and how she'll have to go back to the dorms.

Sunghoon listened to every word escaping from her lips, smiling softly at her state. Soojin always complained about things but would go to the moon and back if it meant she'll get a single smile from her friends. You sighed, maybe going back to your apartment was genuinely a better idea. The constant train of thoughts inside your head broke when a hand slid below your head from where it was resting against the couch.

You looked to the side to see Sunghoon still talking with Soojin and occasionally with Heeseung and Jay, but his hand cradled your head as he soothingly traced circles on your head, his fingers tangled in your hair. And your attention should be on Soojin truthfully, given how overstimulated she feels while being constantly surrounded by people but your mind was hyper-aware of the way Sunghoon gently massaged your head, how gentle his fingers were.

His hand moved towards your ear, gave it a gentle tug before mindlessly tracing patterns on it. He was still talking with Heeseung about some dumb movie they watched last week. His touch continued, alternating between your head, ear and then back of your neck and you couldn't help but lean more into his hand. Somewhere deep down in your gut you knew you were doomed but you were glad he didn't stop with his touch either.

You flickered the light switch of your apartment on, Soojin making her way towards your bathroom to get fresh. You offered Soojin to stay the night at your place since it was way too late for her to go back to the dorms. You texted Sunghoon that you reached your apartment, took an oversized shirt and sweatpants from the closet and put it on bed for Soojin to wear. After Soojin was done, you did your own nightly routine, changing into comfy clothes, ready to sleep.

"I'll bring water for you," You smiled at Soojin who was already halfway into the dreamland and made your way to the kitchen. You checked your phone to see Sunghoon's reply, a simple 'call me when you can' glaring back at you. You checked the time, 03:00 AM, shrugging you decided to call him anyway. He picked up after two rings.

"Is she asleep?" You rolled your eyes at his voice, "what happened to hello? How are you?" You could picture his exaggerating sigh just as you heard it, "hello beautiful, why aren't you sleeping yet? Is Soojin asleep?" You turned back to take a look inside your bedroom, "Yeah, she's asleep." You slowly shut the bedroom door close so as to not disturb her sleep.

"Why? What's up?" You bit your lips as you sat on your couch waiting for him to answer, "I noticed she's been out of it for sometime, I'm worried about her," You exhaled a deep breath, adjusting your position on the couch as you listened Sunghoon recalling about the instances where Soojin would randomly zone out, get easily irritated and overwhelmed, tale-tell sign of her having troubles with her thoughts again.

You hummed in agreement, heart racing, fist clenching as you told him about your observations during your usual hangouts. You prayed the phase she was in would go away quickly, the summer exams were fast approaching and you knew she would be too sensitive during those phases, pulling all-nighters, not eating properly, ignoring everyone. That's how she gets when stressful situations arrive in her life. You have been used to it by now and you both try your best to be there for her during such times to make things easier for her. Sometimes risking your own grades just for her sake.

"Well....staying by her side and keeping an eye on her is all we can do for now," That was a no-brainer and Sunghoon didn't need you to voice out your answer to know you agree with him. "You've been helping Jay since morning, why aren't you asleep yet? You need proper rest for your body to function the next day, trouble." "Yeah, yeah...I know, I'll go to sleep now," you softly yawned.

"Okay, good night, take care of her and of yourself so that I can sleep peacefully, okay?" You nodded before realizing he can't hear you, "I will hoon, try not to stay awake so late at night too, this isn't your first time, you're making me worried sick too, you know." Sunghoon sighed before reluctantly agreeing with you. He knows he gets lost inside his head one too many times, he's aware you and Soojin try your best to pull at the threads of the maze his head creates. And he is trying his best, he swears to it, to be strong for both of you, especially for Soojin since her attempt. You bid your goodbye and make your way towards your bedroom to finally let sleep consume you.

The crisp morning light falls directly on your face, you groan, not yet ready to face the next day. You toss and turn before draping your hand and leg over Soojin's body, your head nuzzling at the crook of her neck. The touch of her lips on your head is featherlight as she sleepily holds your body closer to hers. "Morning sleepyhead," you whine in protest, hugging her body more closely, "don't wanna," Soojin laughs as her fingers thread through your hair, massaging your head lightly as her soft humming fills your ears.

For a moment your thoughts drift back to last night when Sunghoon's fingers were tangled in your hair before you felt yourself drifting off again. You could get used to this mornings, waking beside Soojin, freshening up and then preparing and eating breakfast together, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Maybe sometimes Sunghoon would join too, you and Sunghoon would bicker and Soojin would try her best to resolve the issue. Sleepovers with them were your favorite amongst everything.

"Move in with me," you didn't even move an inch, feeling utterly comfortable while cuddling with your best friend. "Why? Does my baby feel alone?" Even though there was a hint of teasing in Soojin's voice, she knew how lonely it gets to live alone. When you didn't answer back she just sighed, adjusting her position a little bit to get more comfortable, "how about next semester? Would you like that?"

"For real?" If the excitement wasn't detectable from your voice, the wide grin plastered on your face gave it away. Soojin just laughed, removing strands of hair sticking on your forehead as she nodded, "I've thought about it, you can't cook properly, I can't watch you eat unhealthy food on daily basis, I'll cook home-cooked meals for you, in return you wash the dishes, just like we always planned." You looked at her, still unsure but excited nonetheless, "we can watch as many movies as we want, I'll wash your hair when you don't feel like it, you'll help me do my homework when I get stuck on it. You won't have to worry about my health issues, I will always keep you entertained. Sounds like a plan."

Soojin sighed as she listened to you rambling about all the things you would do, how you'll throw a welcome party with the boys. You chatted and she paid attention to every word that left your mouth, throwing hums of appreciation and a few words to add to your neverending list of things you would do when she would move in. You both got fresh, made and ate breakfast together, cleaned the dishes and were now sprawled on your couch watching a newly released drama series.

"It has been a while since you and I spent time like this, right?" You tossed the popcorn in your mouth, nodding in agreement. Surprisingly Sunghoon has neither texted you or Soojin until now, maybe he's still asleep. "Sunghoon always cock-blocks us, who does he think he is?" Soojin just laughed, directing her attention towards the drama, "Don't be so harsh on him, you know how he is." You made a face, "whatever, I don't need him when I have you." You both know that's a white lie.

"You say you don't need him, but look at him like he hung up the stars in the sky," You choked on the popcorn you were eating at that, Soojin alarmed over your state as she patted your back to help. You looked at her wide-eyed, reaching for the glass of water kept on the coffee table with trembling hands. "What do you mean? I mean he indeed put the star stickers on the ceiling of my room in my parents house if that counts?" Soojin rolled her eyes so hard you thought they got stuck at the back of her head.

"You know what I'm talking about but if you aren't comfortable we won't discuss further," she picked up the empty bowl of popcorn, cleaning the mess you both made, "come to me when you're ready enough okay?" You couldn't help but let confusion overtake your features. And as Soojin hugged you goodbye and you stood in your hallway watching her go, you wondered why Soojin was suddenly talking about Sunghoon to you in this way? Does she not feel the same way about him? Were you perceiving everything wrong? Because as far as you knew, more than you, it was Soojin who looked at him like he hung stars in the sky.

The summer sun irritated your skin, your school's uniform blazer neatly placed on your lap, "ugh, I hate summer with burning passion," You tried putting your hair in a ponytail, muttering curses under your breath as summer heat consumed you whole. Soojin chuckled lightly before getting up from her seat, turning you around as she helped you with your hair. "Cry baby, you're in high school now...grow up," You gave Sunghoon a sharp glare, complaining to Soojin about how he's always so indifferent when it comes to you. Soojin just laughed, placing a gentle kiss on your head as she sat down behind you, placing her head on your shoulder.

It had been a year since Soojin's incident, and you were glad to hear her smile and laugh again, so if that meant you had to constantly bicker with Sunghoon then so be it. You were just glad you didn't lose her that day. When your eyes found Sunghoon he was already looking at you with a soft smile, a mutual understanding in your eyes. Soojin was smiling more these days, and you were glad things were going back to how they were.

"Ah, I forgot," You stood up frantically gathering your things as the other two watched you with confused eyes, "I've to help my mom with dinner since her friends are coming," Your blazer fell down on the ground, "need to go, I'll meet you guys tomorrow, byee." Sunghoon and Soojin could only shake their heads at your forgetfulness and you made a run towards the school's gate. You were halfway through your way when you realized your blazer was, in fact, not in your hand, you don't even recall where you dropped it.

"Fuck, how stupid I could get?" You grabbed your phone from your pocket and dialed your mom's number, thankful that she picked it up quickly. You told her about your blazer, of how you're unsure to run home or back towards school to find it. Your mother laughed, reassuring you that your dad had come home early to help, urging you to get your blazer before it's too late. You sighed in relief before running back towards school, hoping and praying you dropped it somewhere nearby. It had slowly started to get dark when you reached the school's ground, you made your way slowly towards the place you, Soojin and Sunghoon, hung out.

Your eyes fell upon your blazer neatly folded and placed upon the bench you were sitting along with Soojin and Sunghoon who's belongings. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion since both of them were nowhere in your sight. You made your way towards the back of the school filled with large palm trees, your feet coming to a stop as you caught a sight of them.

Soojin's hand was held by Sunghoon as they stood in front of each other, close, maybe a little too close, they were talking, you aren't sure about what. Your ears were ringing loudly anyway, and you stood there watching it all. Soojin stepped closer, her hand clutching his necktie as she leaned in close. Sunghoon's hand raising up to cradle her cheek. The distance between their lips shortened, you turned your back and never looked back till you reached your parents house, blazer still lying on the bench you were sitting earlier that day.

You sighed deeply, laying on your bed, as you remember watching them together. Sunghoon handed you the blazer, washed and ironed, first thing in the morning when he picked you up from your house the next day. You remember smiling awkwardly and being quiet all the way to school, even Soojin looked concerned. Everything was normal that day, between Sunghoon and Soojin at least, because all you did for the next few days after that was wonder when they'll break the news of them being a couple to you.

As the time passed, you thought less about it, maybe both of them just weren't ready to open up to you. Eventually you stopped wondering all together, cause nothing drastically changed between you three after that day. Soojin was still recovering from her traumas, maybe they wanted to take things slow. But something shifted slightly, Sunghoon started paying more attention towards Soojin, you thought it was inevitable if they had feelings for each other, you made peace with that fact. Back then you only feared they would forget you, that they'll forget they had another piece in their puzzle but as you grew older you realize you not only feared losing them as your friend but also about your growing feelings for Sunghoon.

You knew you had feelings for him way before you even realized, especially when he smiled at you, crooked teeth and all, when you fell down your bike on the first day of your middle school. You remember him apologizing, his small hand grabbing your smaller one as he helped you stand up, and how Soojin ran towards you both and scolded Sunghoon intensely for hurting her 'bestest best friend in the whole world.'

He just stood there as he listened to her scolding, his face as serious as it could get, like he wanted to prove Soojin that he was indeed deeply saddened by the fact that you got hurt. It took a while for Soojin's 11 year old self to calm herself down and you hugged her, face full of guilt as you explained that it should be you apologising since you weren't paying attention while riding the bike and almost hitting Sunghoon who wasn't even aware you were bolting towards him. The look on Soojin's face was priceless and Sunghoon offered to be both of your '2nd bestest best friend in the world' as an apology, you quickly agreed and the rest is history.

"I applied for this program because it was academically challenging but I did not think it would actually challenge me," Heeseung was struggling with his study material, his head propped lazily on your lap as he abandoned his laptop on the coffee table. "Oh poor bambi," You mumbled massaging his head to release some of his stress. Jake was drinking his deathpresso again as he sat surrounded by countless textbooks and binders. Jay and Sunghoon were studying together in Jay's room to not get distracted. Soojin was back in her dorm room, probably didn't even sleep for a minute.

You texted and called her in regular intervals to remind her to eat and rest, exam season was always too hectic. After sometime Heeseung got up to continue his study and you placed your textbook back in your lap to continue from where you left. One more paper and then you all were free for the rest of the summer.

"Are you planning on going home after exams?" Heeseung asked as all six of you were eating dinner at the local diner near the college campus. When Soojin didn't pick up her phone for the 2nd time, Sunghoon decided it was time to drag her out to force her to eat something. You were thankful that Heeseung, Jay and Jake had a mutual understanding about everything that had happened but never dared to touch the topic in front of Soojin. "Not me, I will try to find some summer jobs to save up money," Jake nodded at your words agreeing with you.

"I'm staying here too, I need to find and apply for internships as soon as possible," Sunghoon said, your eyes drifting to Soojin who agreed to stay with you the whole summer since she didn't want to go back home alone. Jay's family was going on a long vacation so he'll be gone for half of the summer holidays. Heeseung and Jake decided to be back from the holidays as soon as Jay came so that all of you could spend the rest of the summer together. "All the best for tomorrow guys," and you were off to your respective places.

Your steps felt light as you exited your exam hall, you decided worrying about how you wrote your exams now was useless anyway. You met the boys at the usual sitting area near the far right building. You checked the time, Soojin and Heeseung were always the last ones to exit the exam hall. You smiled, getting up from your seat as you spotted her walking towards you. "Soojin! Come fast!" Sunghoon shook his head as he grabbed your wrist, smiling lightly, making you sit back once again.

Soojin's steps flattered as she neared the spot, what once began as a smile on your face ended in tremble as you watched her balance tip, your feet were moving before your mind did, Sunghoon few steps ahead but still too far. You closed your eyes, unable to watch her hit the ground, you could hear distant voices of Jay, Jake and Sunghoon yelling at her to stay put and then everything went silent.

You opened your eyes, everything stilled, Soojin laid unconscious, in Heeseung's arms as he tapped her cheek to wake her up. Sunghoon reached forward, taking her from Heeseung's arm as he instructed Jay to get his car. You couldn't move, still glued in the same place as you watched everything unfold, eyes never leaving Soojin's face as Sunghoon placed her inside the car. Heeseung followed soon, making himself comfortable in the passenger's seat.

Somewhere in between, you felt Jake grab your arm and pull you towards his car. You let him drag you, your mind blank. He pushed you towards the passenger's seat and fastened your seat belt, and made his way towards the driver seat. The drive towards the hospital was silent, Jake throwing concerned glances at you as he kept on driving. You didn't even let him properly park before you were taking out your seatbelt and making a run towards the hospital.

You found Sunghoon and Jay near the end of the hallway. "Where's she?" "She's inside the room, the doctor is examining her, I heard the doctor say something about fatigue and low energy," You nodded at Jay before slumping against the chair, your hand trembling as you stared at the room she currently was in. You don't remember when Jake joined you three, you could hear Jay's voice in the distance explaining that Heeseung was taking care of the medical obligations, but their voices were muffled and all you could focus on was the door in front of you.

Sunghoon sat beside you, his fingers on your shirt's button where a few strands of hair had tangled in all the rush, you let him untangle them. It was his way of keeping himself grounded, paying more attention to trivial things in order to temporarily forget about the bigger ones. His hand grabbed your trembling ones, assuring you that it was probably due to stress. You forced yourself to listen to him, you forced yourself to believe in his words even when your instinct told you not to.

After some time, you were allowed to see Soojin. Sunghoon, Jay, Jake and Heeseung entered the room and you stayed back to ask the doctor about her condition. She explained to you how Soojin was severely dehydrated, she hadn't eaten in days so she had no energy left, and the all nighters she pulled didn't help her condition either.

When you entered the room, you simply asked Sunghoon to bring some juice and energy drink for Soojin. You sat beside her silently, holding her hand which wasn't connected to the IV tube, the same hand which bore the scar of the pain she endured years ago. Jay, Jake and Heeseung stayed with you, Jay put your head on his shoulder in a silent way to say he's there, right beside you. And as you sat there in the hospital room with all the boys by Soojin's side, a small tear escaped your eye realizing this is the closest you could get to a second home.

You made Jay, Jake and Heeseung go back to the apartment even though they were very reluctant. Sunghoon had gone with them to prepare some food for Soojin to eat in the hospital. You washed your face in the hospital's bathroom, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Something was bothering you at the back of your mind, but you decided to pay attention to it later. You made your way back into Soojin's room, she looked better now than before, she was talking with a nurse with a newfound enthusiasm which you couldn't find earlier when another nurse was checking up on her.

The nurse gave you a smile of acknowledgement as she scribbled on her notepad and left, you gave Soojin a wary look as you sat beside her. "This nurse is way nicer than the other one, kinder too, I like her," A smile graced your lips at her words, taking note of the fact that being nicer indeed makes people's life easier. "I told you to take care of yourself, I asked you many times if you've eaten, you lied to me?" Her face went pale, she avoided holding eye contact with you.

"I tried to eat, I couldn't swallow anything due to the anxiousness creeping up on me, what if I fail this exam?" You could see her eyes getting glassy as she rambled on about how the exams are stressing her, how she is feeling like a loser, "You've never once failed Soojin, and these percentage means nothing, all of us will love you the same even if you score less marks, I can guarantee you that I'll love you regardless of anything. I won't leave your side." You wiped the tears before they slid across her face, you were scared, scared for her, for her parents, for Sunghoon, for yourself. How are you supposed to make her realize she's more than her achievements and reputation? You were desperate to pull her out of this, desperate enough to pray.

"Really? You'll love me even if I fail all of my subjects? Even when I won't win that debate competition? Even when I look ugly? Will you?" She held your hands in her pale ones, like they were the only thing keeping her sane. "Yes, I'll love you through it all, not only me but Sunghoon too okay? Remember you're moving in with me next semester, I'll help you make flashcards and study materials and stay awake with you revising each and every topic. That's my promise to you, I'm still thinking about all of that, I'll be by your side."

"What if I ruin you? What if you get irritated by me? You have trouble sleeping, if you stay awake for me won't it affect your health too? What about your studies? Aren't your parents expecting you to graduate first class? Won't you feel suffocated? What if you'll start hating me-" You shut her mouth with your hand, you held her tighter in your arms as you repeatedly told her that it would never happen.

"Soojin, if I had two hearts, I would give you the second one too, just to break. So it doesn't matter to me, I will gladly embrace the inconveniences that come along with you. Those aren't inconveniences for me, nothing about you is an inconvenience for me, I chose your struggles when I chose you. Sunghoon and I are staying for good." You let her soak your shirt as she cried in your arms and you didn't let go even after she stopped.

"I think it will be better for me to go back home for the holidays, staying here will only stress me out more if I'll see someone working harder than me," You nodded at her words, maybe staying with family will keep her head off of the university's stress. You'll inform her parents about her condition too. "If that's what you want...I won't oppose it." Soojin gave you a warm smile, placing a kiss on your cheek, "can you promise me one thing?"

"Promise? What?" She sat up straight facing you, she looked adorably cute in that hospital gown, you pinched her cheeks and she swat your hands away before once again holding them, "promise me you'll take care of yourself and Sunghoon when I am not here, both of you tend to get overbearing when it comes to me, and Sunghoon worries so much about me that it worries me," you let her words sink in your chest before you nodded, "I'll take care of him and me, pinky promise."

Your summer holidays are as boring as they could get, with only Sunghoon and you in the city while others are enjoying their families. You almost wished you went along with Soojin to your hometown instead. Sunghoon packed his bag and decided to live with you for the time being because you wouldn't shut up about being bored all the time. You tried looking for a job but the summer heat was unbearable, so work from home it is. Sunghoon, as he said, was indeed very busy with his internship applications and research. But at least you weren't alone.

You regularly FaceTimed and texted Soojin, even Sunghoon always joined in each and every call despite his schedule. But it seems your presence beside her would have been better than the calls you three shared. With time, the schedule got busier, you got another work from home opportunity which you could fit in your schedule. Sunghoon started his internship, and would only come back in the evening. The number of calls started declining the more you got exhausted due to work. And each day, the light inside Soojin's eyes started getting more and more dimmer. You occasionally talked with her mother to get updates from her, and she always said the same thing, Soojin wouldn't talk with them more than necessary.

"I had a talk with Soojin's mom yesterday," You were leaning back against the headboard and Sunghoon laid beside you, his eyes closed, finally being able to rest since it was a weekend. "I think I should go and pay her visit, she said Soojin is growing more and more quieter day by day." Sunghoon opened his eyes at that, shifting a bit as he laid his head on your lap instead, "Is it that bad? I will come with you." You played with his hair, thinking about his suggestion, maybe Soojin would appreciate Sunghoon's presence more than yours. "What about your internship?"

"I'll handle it, let's share this with Soojin. She'll be excited to know we're visiting her." Your eyes lit up at his suggestion as you FaceTimed Soojin. Sunghoon sat you straight leaning into your phone's frame. She picked up the phone at the last ring, "what's up?" You and Sunghoon waved as soon as you saw her face on the screen, she smiled half heartedly as she jumped on her bed to sleep.

"We're coming to meet you and maybe stay there for a couple of days." You smiled brightly at her as Sunghoon nodded his head. "Both of you? What about your jobs and your internships?" You laughed at her confused expression shaking your head, "Don't worry about that, nothing is more important than you," You nodded your head in agreement at Sunghoon's words. "Seriously guys! I'm really FINE, don't change your schedules for me, it's just a phase, I'll be alright!" She hung up the call before even listening.

You exchanged a look with Sunghoon at her sudden outburst, yeah, something was definitely wrong, yeah, you really needed to visit her to calm her down. She was getting pulled right back into the abyss you thought she left behind in high school. You immediately sent email to both your jobs for emergency leave and Sunghoon did the same with his internship. You both started packing your essentials so that the first thing both of you do in the morning is to board the train taking you back to your hometown.

The ride towards your hometown was filled with anxiousness and concern. You tried calling Soojin to tell her you'll be arriving early in the afternoon, then once again when you boarded the train, then again when you were halfway through your destination, but she didn't pick up even once. "I feel like throwing up since midnight, the feeling won't go away hoon," Sunghoon's face was hardened as he looked out the window, his persistent tapping of legs indicating the turmoil he himself was going through.

"It will go away, everything will be alright, it has to be," He anxiously checked the time and station every 5 minutes. He was getting agitated with every call getting ignored. Soojin had never ignored the call, even her parents won't pick up. The train ride was nerve wracking for both of you as you reached your destination.

Visiting Soojin straight after reaching your hometown was a decision both of you didn't need to verbalize. The house was locked when you arrived making you more confused than you already were. No one was picking up the phone, no one was in the house, what was even happening? You dialed her number again, the silence of your surroundings made it possible for you to hear the distant sound of a phone ringing from inside the house. She left the phone in the house. You heard a familiar voice call out your name, you and Sunghoon walked towards Soojin's neighbor, an old grandma who always gave you three sweets whenever she could. "Where are they?"

"You don't know?" You and Sunghoon exchanged a curious glance at her worried tone, "why?" You were practically holding onto the fence for dear life as you ushered grandma to continue, "Soojin attempted to take her life early in the morning today, all of them are at the hospital, she's in a very critical condition-"

Sunghoon dragged you out of the yard and towards the hospital before grandma couldn't even finish her sentence properly. You were out of breath, Sunghoon being relatively taller and faster, you let him drag your body along with him. He stopped right in front of the hospital gate, unable to bring himself to enter. "I'm scared," So were you, Sunghoon let you drag him inside the hospital, his mind numb as he forced himself to take one step after another. "She'll be alright, her parents were with her," you tried to reason out.

You spotted Soojin's younger brother and rushed towards him, he immediately broke down in your arms. Her mother and father were sitting outside of the operation room covered in blood as they prayed for her, it reminded you of the first time when you were here with Sunghoon. "She'll be alright, right?" Sunghoon kneeled in front of her mother, she broke down immediately after noticing you both. "What happened?" Your voice trembled as your eyes flickered between her parents and the operation room.

"We heard a some noise, a soft thud, I thought someone had barged into our house so I woke Soojin's dad to inspect and we found her lying on the ground unconscious, with blood dripping from her hand-" her mother couldn't stop another wave of tears from flowing so her dad continued, "they have been inside the OR for hours, she was breathing still, we informed police about this, her brother found a note."

"Tell her we don't expect much from her as long as she's happy, tell her we love her regardless, I can't take it anymore, let her live pain free, please," You hugged her mom as tears formed in your eyes. Sunghoon was already crying, his head resting against your lap. The light of the Operation room dimmed, her dad and mom were first to make a move towards the doors, you and Sunghoon stayed where you were, eyes trained towards the room.

The doctor walked out, his face gravely. At that moment, the world stood still. The doctor’s lips moved, but all you could hear was a roaring silence. Your heart knew before my mind caught up, Soojin was gone. The hallway was too quiet, too sterile for grief. When the doctor looked at you, you saw it in his eyes, loss wrapped in professionalism. His voice was calm, but it shattered your world. They always say you'll remember the exact moment you hear it. For you, it was the way the doctor hesitated before speaking, "I'm sorry, we tried everything we could."

The scent of incense irritated your nose and burned your eyes. With trembling hands you offered flowers in front of Soojin's portrait. Your parents and siblings stood beside you, bowing towards the altar as they silently mourned. Soojin was smiling brightly in her portrait, a picture captured by you in her happiest moment, framed in black ribbon above the altar. The room was filled with hushed conversations, some sympathetic, others judgmental. You decided you would stay quiet for Soojin's peaceful departure.

Jake and Jay were helping with the food, Heeseung stayed beside Soojin's parents in case they needed anything. Your eyes searched for Sunghoon who was seated at the far corner of the room, his parents right by his side as they consoled him. He just sat, not even moving an inch.

When the time arrived, Soojin's mother couldn't let go of her. Sunghoon gently but firmly held her back as she cried in his arms, defeated. Someone wailed loudly, who? You aren't sure, your eyes never left Soojin's face even when they closed the coffin, like a finality that this was it. Sunghoon, Jay, Jake and Heeseung, along with Soojin's brother and dad helped in picking up the coffin.

You helped her mother carry her portrait in the front. Outside air was chill, it sent a shiver down your spine. A white car was waiting outside the funeral hall, a coffin was placed, the car took off as everyone bowed for the last time.

You softly called out for Soojin's brother, "take your parents back home, they must be tired. Make sure they rest, you've to be strong for them. I'll handle the rest." He nodded his head, wiping his tears before urging his parents to get in Jay's car to drive back home.

You haven't cried the entire time, you weren't sure if you'll be able to. You stood in the middle of the empty funeral hall, eyes not leaving the spot Soojin was moments prior, you didn't move, you didn't dare to disturb the silence with your presence. You just stared at nothing in particular, your mind haywire with everything and nothing simultaneously. You wanted to cry, to yell, to feel something other than the hollowness you felt deep in your heart, but tears won't come out. You hand made its way inside your dress pocket, your fingers curled around a neatly folded envelope. "Soojin left it for you and Sunghoon, I found it beside the note addressed to us."

You aren't sure how much time has passed, you're still at the same place, unable to let go, unable to come to terms with the fact that a piece of your past has decided to stay frozen forever. You aren't sure how you'll escape this loneliness, when all of your memories till now had Soojin in it. You felt Sunghoon's presence before you saw him, he stood beside you for a moment, didn't utter a single word. You wondered how he's coping with the news, you haven't even spoken to him since yesterday, yet you've been with each other all along.

He sighed deeply, his hand circling around your wrist. He wordlessly dragged you out of the hall, you let him. You weren't sure where he was taking you, but you didn't protest. Evening breeze irritated your skin, it was still the middle of the summer, the air was too humid, suffocating you slowly. The breeze brought anything but peace to you. Sunghoon sat you down on one of the benches of the hall's garden. He never let go off your hand, fingers now intertwined with yours. The sky looked pretty today, you almost clicked a picture to send it to Soojin.

"I tried my best to make her understand, when she slept in my apartment on Jay's birthday, when she was hospitalized, I....I tried everything I could to help her understand but...." your voice gave out, you didn't know how to even explain this to him. Sunghoon gulped, "I did all I could do too, when she would complain about things while walking to our hangouts, when she got less marks than she anticipated, when I was walking with her while coming to Jay's party, when I called her at the middle of the night when she was pulling those all-nighters."

"Do you think she's at peace now?" You finally dared yourself to look at him, sullen eyes, chapped lips, ruined shirt collar. You heard him sigh, "maybe she is, she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders." You didn't disagree, instead you felt Sunghoon guide your head on his shoulder. "You know," You laughed bitterly, "I moved all of my things to accommodate hers, I was so excited that I was finally going to have a roommate." Sunghoon just listened as you sat there talking about how you had planned everything, you talked and talked till you couldn't anymore, till the security guard gently smiled at you both, telling you it's time to close.

The summer holidays came to an end, you and Sunghoon, occasionally Jay, Jake and Heeseung, spent it with Soojin's family. Helping them move Soojin's things from her dorm room, with house chores, with her brother's assignments, and everything which you could. Lia decided to move out of the dorm, the emptiness of their dorm room was eating her up she said, you don't blame her. She had spent everyday living with Soojin. You suggested that she visit you sometimes if she missed Soojin too much.

You were currently working on your assignment, it was past midnight yet you were wide awake. You were afraid to fall asleep, memories of Soojin's death lingering at the back of your mind like a tape record with a broken off button. Her absence was still fresh, you still sometimes dial her number or almost text her about random things. The group chat three of you had was silent now, yet sometimes you or Sunghoon would message a thing or two, mainly when your brains were too foggy to realize that Soojin isn't going to reply.

You texted Sunghoon asking about his whereabouts and now you can't help but keep on glancing at every notification on your phone hoping it's from him. He rarely ignored you, especially after what happened with Soojin, he had made it his personal mission to be there for you. You wondered where he was, he never left you hanging like this so you were getting anxious. Even though your conscience begged you to not disturb others who are sleeping, you still found yourself texting Jay to ask about Sunghoon.

Surprisingly, Jay replied immediately informing you that Sunghoon left the apartment hours ago and is yet to come back. You asked him if he had any idea where he was but he told you he thought Sunghoon was with you like always. You replied that you haven't seen or heard from him after he dropped you off from university to your apartment. You quickly exited the chat, dread creeping up on you, you silently prayed he will pick up this time.

After a few rings, you heard a faint sound coming from the other side of the phone, "Sunghoon?" You heard him take a sharp intake of breath followed by a very clear and loud hiccup. Soft music could be heard but it was muffled with the sounds of traffic, people and wind. "Where are you?" Another hiccup, "It's 5:00 AM, why are you awake?" You rubbed your tired eyes in exhaustion. "I asked you a question first! Are you drunk?"

"Very much," You got up, took the keys in your hand, locked your door, started your car and entered his location details on the map. "I'm coming to get you, stay where you are." You didn't think you would end up in this situation today, your eyelids were getting heavier due to lack of sleep. You saw him slumped against a lamppost near the bar, you helped him get inside your car, texting Jay that you found him and are now taking him to your apartment.

You haven't seen him quite this drunk, ever. You recalled having a conversation with Jake, about how Sunghoon wasn't much involved in their chats or hangouts, they figured he needed some time to himself, to deal with the grief like he wanted, if this is how he was planning on grieving then you weren't going to let it happen. You've already lost Soojin, you weren't going to let Sunghoon be next. You helped him with his shoes and jacket, pushing him towards your bedroom.

You laid him on your bed, helping him with his accessories, putting them on your nightstand. You pulled a blanket on him, and he quietly let you. You were skeptical with him being so compliant, normally he was very hard to handle when drunk. He had his eyes closed, letting you pamper him all you want, you removed a few hair from his forehead before pulling back to continue with your work.

"Don't leave," When you turned around, he was already sitting up looking at you with pleading eyes, you sighed as you made your way back, standing beside him. His hands circled around your waist, his head on your stomach, he nuzzled his head closer inhaling your scent, "don't leave please," his voice was muffled but you heard it anyway. You ran your fingers through his hair to calm him down. The desperation in his voice pulling your heart apart.

"I can't lose you too, you mean the world to me, I can't lose you like I lost Soojin, please," Your shirt soaked with his tears as he cried, shoulders shaking uncontrollably as he held you like his life depended on it. "I'm not leaving, I'm here," your presence grounded him as he cried till no tears left in his eyes to shed. Whispers of 'I feel so empty', 'I feel alone', 'I unintentionally called her but her brother picked the phone', 'where did I go wrong' left his mouth and you listened. After a while when silence surrounded you both you pushed him back against the bed, and climbed to the other side of the bed. He immediately shifted near you, taking your hand in between both of his and closed his eyes. You sighed, patting his back to help him sleep.

The constant shifting on your bed was what pulled you out of sleep the next morning, your mind still foggy as you turned to look beside you. The morning light seeped through the space between the curtains, you lifted your head to look at Sunghoon who was constantly tossing and turning. You chuckled lightly, pulling him by his shirt, he obliged albeit half confused, his hand circled around your waist, lazily pulling your body closer to his, tucking his head on your neck.

"Morning," you softly comb your finger through his hair, "My head is thumping like a drum," he whined, holding you tightly, his groggy morning voice sent shivers down your spine. You softly massaged his hair to help with his hangover. He hummed in delight, feeling a bit better. You stayed like that for a while, your eyes getting heavy once again.

"Shall I move in with you?" You were wide awake now, "Are you sleep talking?" Sunghoon leaned back a little to give you a tight look, then resumed his previous position. "No, you're bad at taking care of yourself, you don't sleep or eat properly, you're a walking hazard to put it simply...I'm afraid you need constant supervision."

"....that didn't help me feel better"

"It wasn't meant to make you feel better, just pure fact," you hit the back of his head to remind him of his hangover, he winced pinching your side in return. You slapped his hands too, "what are you good at anyway?" His fingers traced circles around your stomach and you gulped, clearing your throat, "washing dishes?" Sunghoon laughed loudly as he propped himself on his elbow to look at your face. "Washing dishes? Hmm....let's see...I can cook well, you can wash dishes, how does that sound?"

That sounds great, you wanted to tell him but words got stuck in your throat. It sounded exactly how you imagined living with your roommate would be like. How similar it was to what you discussed with Soojin. Sunghoon's smile flattered as he looked into your eyes, his free hand gently cradling your face to shift your attention back on him. "It sounds perfect," you muttered. He narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push further.

"You sound like you dread having a roommate," he pouted as he got off the bed, holding his head since it started spinning due to sudden movement. "I dread having you as my roommate, what if you poison me?" He scoffed, throwing a towel on your face, "trust me, I would have already if it was legally allowed. I don't want this handsome face to be behind the bars where no one would be able to appreciate it." You made sure he heard you gag at that thought.

You were eating breakfast or brunch if you looked at the time, talking about you having a chat with Soojin's parents and asking yours to visit them from time to time. Sunghoon smiled softly, playing with a fork rather than eating. He was happy to see you talk about Soojin without dread looming above you. Things haven't been easier, and he fears it won't ever. Thinking both of your lives would go on without Soojin already leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but he knows Soojin wouldn't want him or you to be hung up on her.

Sunghoon isn't blind, perhaps a little too good at observation, he knew you still had nightmares from the time Soojin attempted to take her life, after all you were the first one to see her in that condition. He knew it would be more difficult for you to stay alone with Soojin gone. Soojin had once told him how you sleep better if you have someone with you. He thinks he finally understands what Soojin meant when he saw you sleeping soundly beside him. He didn't want to take a risk by leaving you alone, especially now that Soojin wasn't there for you to run up to.

You nudged his leg with yours when you saw him zoning out, "don't play with your food, how many times do I have to tell you?" He smirked at your words, "many times now that you agreed on being my roommate." You rolled your eyes, going back to eat your food.

Sunghoon sighed, finishing his food and helping you with the dishes, "you're pretty good at cooking, I always thought Jay or Soojin helped you but I guess I was wrong."

"Help me? You mean to say of all these years you were eating my food, you didn't think I was the one making it?" You nodding enthusiastically was not even the last reaction expected. "I need my daily dose of appreciation now as a compensation for all the years of ignorance."

"Ugh, I hate you with burning passion,"

"No, you don't."

"Yeah, I don't." Sunghoon dried his hands before ruffling your hair. "You're going back?" Sunghoon nodded, promising to shift his things into your apartment the following weekend.

As soon as Sunghoon entered his apartment he was greeted by a very stern looking Jay sitting beside a very oblivious and confused Jake. "You should at least inform someone before disappearing like that! Do you know how worried everyone was?" Sunghoon sighed, mumbling an apology to never repeat it again as he made his way towards his room to relax and continue his work.

He changed into more comfortable clothes, quickly texting you that he reached home. He stretched a bit before making his way towards his study desk to finish his assignment. As soon as he opened his laptop, his headache rolled back due to the screen light, he closed the laptop with lightning speed. He massaged his head, groaning lightly before pulling his hair in frustration. He stood up, trying to recall where he put his medicine box the last time he cleaned.

He found the box placed carelessly on the far end of Jake's computer. He took the box, walking back towards his bed to take the glass of water from the night stand. He swallowed the medicine and hoped it would work fast. The cover of the tablet fell down in the process. He sighed before crouching down to throw the trash in the dustbin when his eyes landed on the boxes kept below his bed. His eyes trained on the half opened one, he reached forward and opened it fully. He smiled at the polaroids and keychains as he rummaged through it. He stopped when he caught the sight of a bracelet, he picked it up bringing it up to his eyes before putting it back inside, closing the box.

Sunghoon sighed, fragments of his past life connecting together to make a bigger, clear, picture. That day started normal, Sunghoon picking you up from your house, you running away from him as soon as you spotted Soojin, him waving at her before continuing the classes. It was the last class of the day when Soojin approached him, "Sunghoon, do you have a spare book in your locker? I forgot mine." Very unlikely that Soojin would be the one to forget something but he got up to get her the book anyway.

The locker room was situated outside of the classes, in a common area. The hallway was empty as Sunghoon opened his locker. His eyes landed on a black box neatly placed inside his locker, confusion gracing his features as he looked around to see anyone who may have left it. Sunghoon's locker being filled with gifts and letters on certain occasions was nothing new, he had grown used to it, but he couldn't recall that day being anything special. A letter was neatly folded above the box, he carefully opened the letter and it didn't even take a minute for him to recognize the handwriting of Soojin.

'Before you open the box, I need to talk to you alone, meet me at our usual hangout after school?'

Sunghoon eyed the box, staring at it as if it would start spilling out secrets hidden inside of it. The class bell rang, he quietly grabbed a spare book and made his way back towards the last class of the day. He entered the class, immediately making eye contact with Soojin, she smiled at him while taking the book from his hand. She turned her head to look in your direction where you were happily laughing with your seatmate then back towards Sunghoon. "I want you to keep this between us," she looked at him expectantly, Sunghoon nodded before making his way towards his seat.

His mind was racing with countless scenarios, his foot tapping against the floor repeatedly. He was silent during the lecture but couldn't focus at all. His mind racing with thoughts. His eyes trailed towards you trying to keep up with the teacher's words and notes you were writing. Then they swayed towards Soojin who sat straight in her seat. If it wasn't Sunghoon, anyone else would think she was laser focused on the class.

While you were talking with your seatmate, Sunghoon made his way towards Soojin. "How are you planning on discussing things with me when you know I walk with her home?" Soojin smiled, turning towards you to realize you were already looking at her. She waved her hand towards you urging you to hurry up then turned back towards Sunghoon. "She needs to help her mom with something, she'll go first. I don't want her to feel isolated, I would have chosen another day if that wasn't the case." Sunghoon nodded his head, and then you joined them.

Sunghoon shook his head as he watched you hurriedly run to go home, "she dropped her blazer." Soojin dusted the dirt from your blazer, Sunghoon took it, folding it neatly. "What are you doing?" He just smiled at her confused gaze, "taking it with me to return it." Soojin gulped, taking the blazer from his hand and placing it beside their belongings. "Let's take a walk?"

Sunghoon didn't urge her to talk, he let her set the pace. He knew she was much more anxious than he'll ever be so she let her lead the discussion. They talked for a bit, about everything and nothing, for a moment it felt good, normal even, like it was just another day and this was just another conversation amongst the countless ones. Mid-laugh, Soojin stepped forward blocking his path, Sunghoon gulped, raising his eyebrows to let her know she had his attention.

She took a deep breath, "did you....open the box?" Sunghoon shook his head no, she smiled, thanking him for listening to her. "You alright? Is anyone bothering you?" He needed to know, the nervousness of her face making his thoughts spiral more. She laughed assuring him everything is normal before she stepped closer, taking one of his hands in hers. "Your presence has always given me a sense of security, especially after what I did, you both must have been too worried about me and I'm thankful that both of you are still by my side."

"That's what friends are for! I'm always here for you." Sunghoon smiled back, squeezing her hand in reassurance. "Right...friends," Soojin huffed a small breath before locking eyes with him again, "I'll be direct with you since I know I can share anything with you without the fear of any judgement okay?" Sunghoon nodded, the grip of his hand tightening a bit around hers as she continued, "I like you," she stopped a bit to watch his expressions but decided to continue before he could say anything, "I think I've liked you for a while now, but ever since that night when I made an attempt at taking my-...and you've been by my side taking care of me, I couldn't help myself, I couldn't let these feelings sit in my heart, that's why I'm saying it to you. I really like you Sunghoon, you make me want to live a little more."

'I really like you Sunghoon, you make me want to live a little more.' Those words echoed in his ears as he looked at her. He never left her hand, he didn't even know how to react. He gulped as he watched her step closer, her other hand grabbing his necktie to pull him closer. He closed his eyes on instinct more than approval, how would she react if he pulled back? Will she fall into depression? Will she feel humiliated? Embarrassed?

Soojin is a kind girl, dating her wouldn't be that bad, especially if his presence means so much to her, he cares about her more than anything. He surely would fall in love too. He just felt terrified for intentionally or unintentionally hurting her. His hand trembled when he cupped her cheek, Soojin inhaled sharply.

His first kiss, he should be grateful it will be with someone he trusts, someone he cared for. Their noses touched, he felt her breath on his lips. He tilted her head to the side, he was sure his heart would jump out of his ribs. His thumb traced her jawline slowly before it stopped right at her lips, a shift in the position and his lips touched her forehead instead. He pulled back, chest heaving heavily like he had run a marathon, "I-....Soojin?" He looked at her, confused.

Soojin laughed, pushing him away from her lightly with the same hand she clutched his necktie a few minutes ago, "I just wanted to try my luck I guess." Sunghoon opened his mouth to say something, anything really, Soojin's eyes were filled with tears as she awkwardly stepped back, looking around the place to ease the tension. "Why would you try to kiss me when you don't even like me romantically?" Her question caught him off guard, isn't that what she wanted?

"I....just. I don't want to hurt you Soojin, I just want you to feel loved and cared for." Soojin shook her head, grabbed his blazer with both of her hands and shook him slightly, "so you were ready to be with me just to make me happy? What about you?" He avoided her eyes, he placed his hands on her, lightly but firmly. "I thought it will be fine, I care for you,"

"No, you just pity me," Her voice cracked, "you just pity me because I tried to take my own life, I know I've things to deal with, but don't pity me, I can handle rejection but I don't want people around me to walk on eggshells." Sunghoon pulled her into his arms, "I like you, maybe not in a way you want; does that mean I'll leave your side? No. I'm staying with you, right by your side. I'll still be just one call, one message away. Nothing has to change."

"You promise?" He wiped the tears flowing from her eyes, smiling softly at her, "you'll always be my priority Soojin. I may not be your boyfriend but I'll be the best friend you ever need."

Weekend rolled over faster than you imagined, Sunghoon's belongings were roughly scattered all around your living room. Jake and Jay were currently sprawled upon the couch, eyes closed. Heeseung and Sunghoon were still unpacking things and placing them in the places you pointed out. By evening, most of the things were unpacked and Sunghoon finally let his former roommates free. They bid their goodbyes with Jake dramatically clinging onto Sunghoon, crying about missing his roommate. You let the fact that they lived 5 minutes drive away from you go for now.

You helped Sunghoon with the rest of the things, he vacuumed the floor and you mopped it after. Only a few words were exchanged between you, your playlist occupying most of the silence. "Shall we eat out? It's too late and I'm very hungry," Sunghoon agreed with you before going to shower. You waited till he was done to go shower. Your clothes feel sticky with all the moving and cleaning you did.

You grabbed the food, deciding it would be better to just eat in the car. "You're very quiet today. It's threatening." You glared at him, though you never stopped eating your sandwich. "Don't speak with your mouth full," You retorted after swallowing your food. He stuck his tongue at you, opening the cap of your drink before passing it to you. "It looks like it will rain soon." The sky was filled with dark clouds, harsh wind making you shiver. Sunghoon closed the windows before even a single drop of water could touch your skin.

The rain came down heavy, angry as it drummed against the car's roof. The windshield blocked your view immediately due to the sheer amount of raindrops. The trees swayed relentlessly, signs blurring, people running to shield themselves from the heavy downpour. From inside the car the rainstorm seemed loud, distant even. The air went dense, thick with the scent of earth, the soft hum of the engine grounding you to the moment. Then the thunderstorm struck and you involuntarily shuddered, it wasn't like you were scared of lightning but because you've been extra sensitive to everything lately.

Sunghoon removed his jacket and placed it on your shoulder engulfing you in his scent, "wanna go back?" You shook your head no, wearing his jacket properly. "It's dangerous to drive in this weather....let's just stay here till the rain calms down." Sunghoon wordlessly agreed, raising the temperature of AC up. Soft music filled your ears as you leaned back on the seat. It looked like you'll be stuck here for a while.

Sunghoon hummed along with the song while waiting for the rain to calm down. You peered at him from your spot, he looked at you from the rearview mirror, your eyes trailed from his thick eyebrows, to his lashes, then to the moles adorning his face, to the slope of his nose, and those plush lips. You gulped, forcing yourself to look away before he caught you. You sighed softly, the rain showed no signs of stopping, neither did your thoughts.

"How do you cope when you're left with your thoughts for too long?" You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, eyes still focused on the way rain dropped on the window and slid down, "I mean, it must've been hard for you after Soojin left." He took a moment to let your words sink in, trying to understand them fully before responding. "I let those thoughts consume me, I don't run away, ignoring will only delay the pain."

You exhaled a breath you didn't even realize you were holding, "you can talk to me if things get too hard you know. I'll be there for you." He looked at you wondering why you were saying all those things now, "It must have been hard for you too right? I'm not the only one who lost her."

"Hmm...it's different for me and for you though....you two shared a much different bond than the one you two shared with me," the words left your lips before your brain could comprehend. Your eyes widened as your eyes met Sunghoon's confused ones. "What are you saying?" You scoffed, breaking eye contact, avoiding his scrutinizing eyes. "I saw you two that day....I walked back to school since I dropped my blazer." You didn't need to say anything further to clarify what day you were referring to. His eyes widened, mouth opening and closing, you continued, "I thought at least one of you would say something, anything to me but neither of you did."

You fiddled with your hands, unable to look at him, unable to keep your emotions in check. You had suppressed everything you felt in your heart for Soojin's sake, for years at that. Soojin's absence brought more turmoil inside you rather than ease it. You wanted, no, needed answers. Not for you, maybe a little for you but more for Sunghoon, you didn't want him to hurt alone. You could at least be there for him when you couldn't for Soojin. Maybe that's how you wanted to bring peace to your heart. If he wasn't going to open up to you, how were you going to help him with it?

"I-...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel neglected, I thought Soojin would prefer things that way so I just went along with her and never told you." You played with the hem of his jacket. "So you just were never going to tell me if I didn't ask?" He shook his head, his hand making its way to hold yours. "Why does that thing matter though?"

"Why? It doesn't?" You released your hand from his hold, you decided to ignore his pained expression, "You did not think it was that important? Is that why you were so casual the next day? Because it didn't matter?" Sunghoon scoffed, not understanding where the conversation was heading. "If you saw us, why didn't you question us the next day? You always did that before!"

That pissed you off, "You wanted me to just barge in and ask you both, 'oh hey! I saw you both kissing and left, mind telling me if you're officially together or not' is that how you expected me to behave?" Your hands were flying everywhere as you spoke and Sunghoon just got more and more confused with each word spilling from your lips. And he knows he's stupid, Jake had countless times reminded him of that fact, but he couldn't help the way his eyes were more focused on your lips in that moment than anything else.

"Wait, we aren't-"

"I don't even want to discuss this, you're just pissing me off more, let's stop talking about this." Now it was his turn to get pissed, "Let me explain at least," your sharp glare shut him off quickly, "okay, whatever." Now not only was the atmosphere gloomy but so was the mood inside the car. The rain stopped and you sighed in relief, at least you could go back to your apartment and create some distance between you two. If this was how your first night ended after becoming roommates, you could only imagine the rest of the days.

You got off the car as soon as he parked the car, Sunghoon following suit. You fumbled with your keys trying to get it in, he gently grabbed them from your hand and easily opened the door in one go, now that just pissed you off more. You removed the shoes, stomping inside your room. Sunghoon just laughed to himself, "what a brat." He made his way inside his room, the former guest room planning on having a talk with you tomorrow after you've calmed down.

You threw your body on your bed, groaning at the way your body aches after helping Sunghoon move his things. He was so sweet when he asked if he could move in with you, and now he's behaving like that. You questioned why you have feelings for him in- "Why am I questioning? I don't have feelings for him." you decided you need a little sleep and peace for your mind to function properly again.

You were cozy, the weather outside was cool, wind was still blowing, the smell of earth after rain filling the air, your soft bed with your softest blanket draped around your body. You were in dreamland. You knew the sleep would be different after all that labour you did today, but that's not how that works right? You were thirsty, your throat screamed for your mercy, you searched for the glass of water on your nightstand only to realize you didn't refill it. You smashed your head against the pillow and screamed into it, then you made your way towards the kitchen to drink some water.

You flicked the kitchen light on, lazily drinking water when a loud thunderstorm echoed and you were surrounded by darkness. The yell that escaped your throat was intended to be in your imagination but Sunghoon heard it clearly, which made him frantically get up from his bed mid-sleep, and fall down. He got up, hurriedly making his way towards where your voice came from. By this time, the small light from the hallway window was the only thing illuminating the apartment.

He made his way towards the kitchen, still a bit hazy from waking up abruptly. He called out your name, "I'm here," he followed your voice. You were sitting on the floor at the corner of the kitchen. Your hand grabbed his as soon as you saw his silhouette near you. He freaked out a little when you grabbed his hand, but he wasn't going to let you know that.

"Hey, I'm here for you okay? Don't be scared." He sat beside you, wrapping his hand around your shoulder. He could feel your body slightly trembling, he pulled you closer, wrapping his other hand around you too, caging you in his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his waist to ground yourself. You have always feared darkness with burning passion. Normally you would always have your phone with you or near you to get through it.

Sunghoon drew out a long breath, his heart picking up speed at close proximity. Sure he has slept beside you, even hugged you countless of times but this felt more intimate, more vulnerable, more exposed. "You're still trembling," He pulled away from you in order to check on you but you grabbed his shirt in your hands, not letting go. Another lightening struck and you flinched, his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you up and onto his lap like you weighed nothing.

A loud gasp escaped your lips, he moved you till you were straddling his lap. His hands guided yours around his neck before his own made their way around your waist. He closed the distance between you in one push. His head found home in your neck, his arms tightening around you. A whimper left your lips as you hugged him. He rubbed your back, mumbling sweet nothings in your hair to help ease your nerves. You pulled back slightly, now that your vision had adjusted, you could see his silhouette though it was still very dark. You still hand your arms wrapped around him loosely and his grip shifted on your sides now. His thumbs draw circles around the area.

"We never kissed," His voice was more clear than the sky in the night's silence, "Soojin confessed to me that day, I got scared that she would get depressed if I rejected, I was afraid to be the reason for her next attempt, so I just went along with it. I thought maybe she'd be better if I said yes, but when I tried to kiss her she pulled back."

He continued, "I never told you anything because I didn't want Soojin to feel humiliated, she never discussed it with me either. Although I did not reciprocate, I still felt the need to be there for her more because she told me she felt safer with me around."

"I always thought you both had feelings for each other but were just toying around."

"Why would we be toying around if the feelings were mutual?"

"How would I know that?"

"God really said, 'no thoughts just vibes' with you," You slapped his shoulder as you leaned back a bit more. "What about that gift box?" You questioned, "exactly how many things you know about, trouble?" You groaned loudly before slamming your head against his shoulder. "I saw it on Jay's birthday when I picked up your hoodie from the floor, you aren't good at hiding."

"So the blame is on me?"

"Yes, of course. Who else?"

Living with Sunghoon was more peaceful than you initially thought. It has been months since the incident but nothing really changed, except now you had a companion to stay with. You couldn't really point but after Sunghoon's clarification days of turmoil finally stilled inside your mind, you realized how heavy your thoughts had been before that.

"Ready for college?" You peeked from the kitchen to see Sunghoon already near the door wearing his shoes. You gave him an okay sign, a half eaten bread in your mouth, he chuckled at your state urging you to hurry up. You finished your routine, locking the door behind and made your way out of your apartment complex. "We're driving today?"

"Jake wanted to go out after finishing classes." You entered the car, already feeling excited to spend some time with them. It had been a while, in between classes, assignments and everything, you only met each other in the university briefly. You missed spending time with them. "I missed them."

"Yeah, I can see it on your face." Sunghoon chuckled, reaching out to help you with the seatbelt. Your breath hitched at the close proximity and he just smirked, having the time of his life teasing you. He pulled back, not before throwing a wink at you, and you pulled his ear in response. You adjusted yourself in your seat as Sunghoon began driving.

"Jake, my baby!" The moment you spotted Jake a wide smile spread across your face, and before you could think your feet were already moving. You broke into a run, heart pounding with joy. When you finally reached him, you threw your arms around him in a tight embrace. He hugged you back, his arms tightening around your waist as he lifted you up and spun you around. Jay made a face when you pulled away from Jake, "You act like you didn't just meet yesterday,"

"Don't sulk, I missed you too." You threw yourself on him, although he put up a bit of a fight, he hugged you back nonetheless, "it feels good to see you smile like this again." Heeseung pushed Jay aside before engulfing you in his arms. "Missed you so much, can't handle these two without you, I was crashing out so bad." Sunghoon joined as soon as Heeseung let go of you, "Shall we head inside?"

All five of you made your way inside the arcade, you stood back letting the boys have their moment together, they rarely spend time together like before since Sunghoon moved in with you. Jake noticed your absence before anyone else did, making his way towards you he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards dance machines where Heeseung was currently standing, you stood beside him. He gave you a smirk before starting the game, you smirked back challenging him. What started as friendly competition, turned into you, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon rolling on the floor laughing as Heeseung slipped and fell.

"You okay?" You extended your hand to help him, he glared at you half angry half smiling as he held your hand. "You aren't hurt right?" He shook his head no, before holding Jake on a chokehold since he couldn't stop laughing. The rest of the day was filled with laughter, with conversations and gossip you missed having with them. For a moment, as you looked at them animatedly talking, pushing each other in annoyance everything felt normal.

For a moment you felt at ease, when Jake whispered something funny in your ear you turned to your other side, almost instinctively, to tell Soojin about it, then you stopped when realization hit you. This wasn't the first time it was happening, and you're sure this wasn't surely the last. All of you were still trying to adjust to life without one member of your little friend group.

Heeseung, Jay and Jake occasionally visited Soojin's parents if they happened to be near your hometown. Her mother once expressed her gratitude towards the boys' presence to you. You were happy that none of you were erasing her from your life, she was still present with you all. Especially in small moments like this when any one of you suddenly remembered her. She wasn't physically there with you, but you made sure she'll be with you in your memories.

Sunghoon nudged your shoulder with his, noticing that you were in your head again. He raised his eyebrows and you smiled, shaking your head as you ate your food, joining the conversation back. Sunghoon leaned back, his hand sliding across the back of your chair. You shot him a suspicious glance, he just shrugged. The night continued and soon Jay, Jake and Heeseung left.

The weather started getting cool again, you had your jacket with you this time, Sunghoon bought it knowing you forget easily, he was starting to get suspicious that you were doing this on purpose. "You zoned out again, you're doing that more these days." You gave him a look, "I'm trying my level best with everything, leave me alone." He just shrugged, draping his hand on your shoulder and pulling you flush against his body. You yelped but slid your hand against his waist anyway. You both decided to walk for sometime before heading back, the weather was too good to stay inside.

"You know," He started, you looked at him but his eyes were trained straight ahead, "there are times when I don't know what to do with the time I have in my hand, I don't need to have my phone close to me incase something would happen, I got so used to doting around Soojin that I don't know what I should do now. I moved in with you, so now even if I'm worried about you I can just solve your worries in person, I almost feel empty." He was looking at you now, his smile soft but still strained.

"I get it, but maybe it's time for us to honor her wishes rather than feeling guilty about it. You remember what she wrote in the letter right?" Sunghoon sighed, coming to a stop when he could see the city's skyline. You gave him the letter addressed to both of you after a few days of living with him. You stood beside him, recalling the things Soojin wrote for you. You may have known her your whole life, but you realized you failed to understand the roots of her struggles while trying your best to help her cope.

'I felt like an obstacle in your life, I wanted you both to focus on your own life more. I wanted to just feel normal with you. I couldn't bear watching you guys miss important milestones in your life in order to help me with my own, I felt like I was using you. I love and appreciate both of you, please live your life without any burden. Live your life the way you were supposed to, not focused on me, but on yourself. You'll both do that for me right?'

"Wanna go back?" You asked as you turned around to go back towards your car when you felt his hand grasping yours and pulling back. Your feet stumbled and you collided against him. You looked up meeting his gaze, the cold air sending a chill down your spine. His gaze darkened, his other hand sneaking around your waist to hold you properly.

"Aren't you a little too impatient?" He tucked your hair behind your ear, leaning close till your noses touched. Your breath hitched, one hand still in his hold and other clutching his jacket tightly. You felt his hand slip off your waist but neither of you made any attempt at pulling away. He held you in place with his gaze, the hand holding yours drawing small circles around your wrist. Your pulse was so erratic you were afraid he could feel it.

He raised his hand, his fingers lingered on your cheek, the softness his eyes held made your heart flutter. You tilted your head, and your eyes fluttered close. He looked at you for a moment, not too long because he was losing his control too. His lips met yours, the touch gentle, cautious like he was giving you a gateway to pull back if you wanted to. You sighed against his lips, your hand found its way towards his collar, pulling him closer. Something shifted inside him at your actions, his movements a little clumsy, he pulled you closer deepening the kiss.

The sheer pressure of his actions drew out a surprised gasp from you. You hand tightly holding his shoulders to ground yourself. He caught you just in time, without breaking the kiss. His lips parted, tongue sliding across your bottom lip, you parted your lips, his tongue exploring your mouth like he waited all his life just for this moment. You didn't feel the shift in your positions till your back hit the railings of the sidewalk you were standing at.

His hands cradled your face, you pulled away just enough to breathe, forehead touching, trembling and breathless, as if breathing was just another interruption. He didn't stop, pecking your lips once, twice and once again just because. His lips found their way towards your forehead, then your eyes, nose, cheeks and they were back again on your lips. The kiss this time was slow, the urgency was still present, but it was masked with something softer.

The distant traffic sound made you well aware of your surroundings. You pushed him away gently, your hand trembling against his chest. You looked at his state, chest heaving, hair disheveled, corner of his lips stained with your lipstick. A soft laugh escaped your lips, you hand raising to remove the lipstick stain from his lips, he leaned against your touch, his actions pulling at your heart, that's when you noticed.

You blinked, unsure if you were imagining things, you bought your hand closer. You froze, your fingers brushing against the cold metal you were sure wasn't there before. Your eyes widened when you recognized the bracelet which was neatly placed around your wrist, the one you saw in Sunghoon's room at Jay's party. "When did it get here? Is this for me?"

Sunghoon just smiled at you, locking you in between his arms and railing. "Hmm, for you, and about how it got there, I have my ways," he smirked, one of his hands tracing your lips. He placed the bracelet on your hand when he pushed you against the railing in the middle of kiss, the realization making heat crawl up your face. Sunghoon's lips find yours again, almost as if it's the only place that brings him solace. Your fingers grabbed his hair, pulling him closer. You don't remember how much time you spent just kissing each other, you've lost track of it far ago anyway.

"I love you," He whispered against your lips, pushing his body closer to yours if it was even possible. For a minute you forgot how to breathe. "I've loved you for as long as I can remember and I regret not having you like this before. Soojin was right, should've made the move years ago."

You pulled back, "Soojin knew about it?" He just smiled, kissing your cheek before continuing, "Well, Soojin knew about my feelings way before I did, it's kind of ironic if you think about it, something about the way I look at you when you're not noticing. She bought this bracelet for you, she wanted me to give it to you when I finally act on my feelings so here we are."

You held the bracelet closer, "is this her way of giving blessing to us?" Tears welled up in your eyes as a choked sob escaped your throat. She knew Sunghoon had feelings for you, she knew you had feelings for him, and she was trying her best to not be in the middle of it. You always thought you were the one getting isolated when in reality, it was Soojin trying her best to not get in the middle of both of you. Sunghoon wiped the tears that escaped your eyes, his own vision getting blurry. "I couldn't bring myself to confess when I knew she had feelings for me too."

"And that is the exact reason she was so fed up with us Sunghoon." His head hung low, in the process of trying to protect your best friend you both completely disregarded her need to blend in. Yours, Sunghoon's, her parent's life circled around her to the point she felt suffocated, maybe she felt guilty for unintentionally being the reason people around her neglected their own needs.

You cupped his face, kissing his eyes. You pulled him in your arms, inhaling his scent. "I love you too, more than anything." His arms tightened around your waist and you stayed like that for a while basking in each other's embrace. You both made your way back to the car to go to your apartment, one of his hands grabbing your thigh and occasionally squeezing it. Both of you were still riding on the high of your newfound confessions. None of you could keep your hands off of each other but decided to take things slowly. You had plenty of time together anyway.

You were ready to call it a night, freshly changed into your pajamas when you heard a knock on your bedroom door. Sunghoon was leaning against the doorframe, in his hand he carried a red box. You looked at him curiously, a silent question flickering behind your eyes. He just shrugged and placed the box in your lap and sat before you.

"The black box is the one Soojin gave me when she confessed, when I went home and opened it, the box was filled with different keychains and charms and polaroids of us," He explained as you opened the box then he continued, "there were polaroids of me, you, hers, of both of us, of me and Soojin." You nodded at him as your eyebrows furrowed looking at the contents of the box.

You looked at him and he just scratched the back of his neck smiling sheepishly, "I separated the polaroids which had you and me, and even your candids in my bag and Soojin saw them one day. She just laughed and told me to get another box to keep the things so I won't embarrass myself like that in front of you." You laughed at his words and he gave you a look which said, 'this-is-the-reason-I-wasn't-telling-you-about-things-before.'

The box was filled with the polaroids of you, of you and him together, the locket which you once left in his house, the greeting card you gave him on his 12th birthday, your drawings which you thought you threw away in trash bins. You laughed at yourself, so this was the reason why the black box was filled with polaroids of Soojin and Sunghoon only. You put them back, closing the box and putting it inside the drawer of your nightstand.

"If I had been a little bit more curious that day, I would've found you had a huge crush on me on Jay's birthday," You sighed dramatically, plopping yourself back onto your bed. Sunghoon lightly slapped your knees before making his way upwards, his arms placed on either side of your head as he hovered above you, caging you with his body. "You're such a menace," he grumbled, putting all of his weight on you, as he trailed kisses down your neck.

You sighed softly, his hands roaming all around your body. His mouth is working on your neck, sucking, biting, licking. You were sure your neck would be adorned with love marks after he was done with you. You ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand sliding across his shoulder as you both drifted off to sleep.

You don't think you'll ever forget what Soojin did in order for you to be here at this moment. Soojin was an integral part of both of your lives and she'll continue to play that part forever. She will always remain the link which joined you and Sunghoon together. You know she's still with you, maybe not how she used to be.

But now her presence lingers when morning sunlight makes you groans, it lingers when Sunghoon makes home cooked meals for you, when Jake wraps his scarf around your neck when you forget it yet again, when Heeseung ruffles your hair and constantly reminds you to eat during exam season, in a way Jay asks you to help him make flashcards for his study materials.

She never left, she just divided her love for you in four equal parts. And if you ever were left alone with your thoughts for too long, she lingered as the bracelet wrapped around your wrist to remind you she is still with you. You know she'll always be there for you and Sunghoon.

#enhypen #park sunghoon #writers on tumblr #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #enhypen fanfic #enhypen x reader #enhypen au #enhypen imagines #enhypen angst #sunghoon angst #sunghoon au #sunghoon imagines #enhypen fluff

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hoshigray · 9 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐆𝐨 𝐁𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | s. gojō + k. nanami + h. higuruma

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Two demon hunters and a witch unite to take down a demon terrorizing the locals — sounds easy enough until the demon puts up a good fight and drags you three in for a night you’ll never forget…!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: demon! Gojo + demon hunters! Nanami & Higuruma x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - fantasy! au - porn w/ plot - reader + Nanami (aged 27), Higuruma (36) + Gojo (???) - double penetration (anal & vaginal) - foursome (MFMM) - [anal] fingering! (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - handjobs - breast fondling + nipple play + sucking - face-sitting + cowgirl positions - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - biting/nibbling - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy, you sillies!!) - pet names (baby, cutie, cupcake, darling, [my] love, sweetheart, sweetpea) - usage of aphrodisiacs - bit of humor bc i'm [not] funny - mention of blood, drool/spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.6k (i'm so sick...)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first fic of kintober, lessgooooo!! always wanted to write smthn with higunana, so I'm glad i can check that off my list now :333 my first foursome fic, I'm bout to end it all.

“—OWW!! Fuck…easy with the magic, witch!”

“Good work, sorceress; a good hit.”

“He went toward the abandoned mansion as planned; if we’re lucky, with that gash on his shoulder, he shouldn’t be going anywhere…Let’s stay close.”

You nod to the words, the pendant of your necklace shines. “Lead the way.”

Of course, it was a dark and rainy night befalling this day; the twilight light diminished hours within an hour, leaving the stars to scatter around as the waxing crescent dominated the black sky. The only light outside of these is the lantern harboring the flame as you tread under the forest’s trees with purpose, and heavy falling droplets coat your hood and mask the sounds of wet footsteps.

This isn’t the place to walk around during this time of night; the town is fifteen minutes away, the nearest bustle of civilization for its townspeople or passersby. For a night like this, you’d want to be as far away from the rain’s reach: hanging with neighbors or community within the local pubs, calling on a carriage that would service you to your way home, or already cuddled up on your bed and letting the hit of the rainfall hypnotize you to an easy slumber. This is what is expected of the regular townsman, away from the hands of trouble or danger.

However, you are not a townsman – nor are you ordinary – which is why you’re walking up a path that leads to the opened fenced gates of a deserted home.

“Blood on the ground leads us here,” you were not alone, as one hooded person comments while leading you past the gates forced open. He holds a lantern, the flame closeted by the glass being a light source aside from the periodic lightning that graces the dome above. Tiny bits of his blonde hair can be seen thanks to the glow.

“Just as you expected, Kento.” Another hooded man speaks before you in your company while tailing behind the other man. “There’s the old Gakuganji mansion…Sorceress, can you cast a veil to make sure the demon has no way to leave?”

You walk between them. “Please stand aside, hunters.” The men don’t move a foot as you distance yourself, leaving you with the space necessary to do what you need to. Because what you’re about to do is something no average man could do but imagine.

Again, that’s only possible because you are not an ordinary townsman…but, instead, a witch.

You raise a hand with your fore and middle finger to your lips. “Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness…” The shadow under your feet goes still, breaking its typical mandate and moving to swirl into a circle. “Purify that which is impure, impure that tarnishes the pure…” The dark circle increases, its massive size swallowing whatever is in its path. It sneaks under the feet of the two men behind you, their shadows unionizing with the giant shape and continuing to grow. Yet, the men remain silent as the darkness consumes the Earth. The grass, the mansion, the damaged fenced gates — the circle expands outward until it meets the trees of the woods. “May the shadows guard the light, keep the unseen from being seen…” Then, the shadowed shape spirals within its outline, picking itself while the foundations lay on the ground. Liquid matter encircles around as it rises, forming a dome-like profile until the dripping fragments atop piece together. “And may this viel cleanse its inhabitants and scene…Bounded Barrier: Curtain!”

The constructed umbra shields you three from the outside world, sheltering those below from the pattering hits and sounds of the thunderstorm. Knowing this, you discard your hood to the ground and let the cool air greet the skin of your cheeks; the two men behind you mimic and follow as you walk up to the old front doors of the mansion, which also, from inspection, is damaged. A massive hole is gashed onto the aged wooden frame, and lights aren’t on to greet you in the foyer.

The blonde man takes a few steps ahead of you. “His blood leads to the upstairs.” Now that his hood is off, the light from the lantern highlights more of his hair. “Higuruma-san, my blade.”

“Right here, Kento.” The other person, Hiromi Higuruma, is a brunet man with his hair pushed up, and the older hunter’s clothes is kept dry from the rainfall. Adorning an aloof expression, he pulls something out of his case and hands it to the blonde. “Be sure to stand on guard, you two. The curtain may keep things out and things in, but one wrong move and we’re in trouble.”

“Roger,” the fair-haired Kento Nanami is a younger huntsman despite his appearance. He takes the blunt sword sheathed with a black spotted cloth with one hand while the other scavengers through a pocket. “Sorceress, can you ensure the demon cannot leave this mansion?”

A curt nod is all you give before venturing a hand to the miniature bag that sits behind your back. You pull out multiple pieces of paper, talismans that you throw up in the air as you mutter words under your breath. They ignore the force of gravity and stay airborne, aligning themselves into a circle as they glow into a bluish-white halo. As you recite, your hands come up from the bell sleeves of your dress as if to hold the gleaming circle. But then, you snap your fingers, and the luminous papers immediately break from the circle and head in different directions. Some go outside the huge home while others scram around the inside, a trail following each as they travel up the stairs or down the vast halls.

“The talismans will go around to every window, door, or opening in this mansion,” you turn to utter a quick spell, and the broken door reconstructs itself back to its original standing with a big spell mark painted on its surface. It flares when you snap your fingers again. “Any contact he makes with them will subdue his powers temporarily. But I’m sure he knows that as well…”

“My thoughts exactly,” Higuruma agrees with you after pulling items from his case to pass to Nanami. He then claps his hands and enumerates a prayer under his lips, and something emerges from the shadows. A black body camouflaged with the dark shade with three stubby points and a face, eyes sewn shut and gritting its teeth. A shikigami, and it swims to where you three stand, curling to where the oldest is. “Better take care of him now while we have the upper hand. Let’s move.”

You and Nanami nod and let Higuruma steer the company to where the blood takes them, walking up the stairs and avoiding the darkness to take hold of their figures because of the lantern.

Walking in the woods and expediting in old, abandoned homes isn’t something you’d do regularly. But, for a case like this, it’s a routine you’re not unfamiliar with. It comes with being a leper of the woods, an outcast to those who don’t comprehend your routine. Endowed with advanced knowledge of magic and texts, you are the sole witch residing in these forests, practically knowing every way, sound, root, and print like the back of your palm and all the while staying enclosed to yourself, isolating away from the judgemental looks and discrimating words of the common folk.

Now, if you’re so looked down upon, what calls you here in what seems to be a chase for a demon? Well, for the past three months, the nearby municipality has been sprouting accounts of “supernatural” encounters. What started as something that only a handful of people would recollect turned into havoc brought upon the townspeople daily. The elderly are spooked to the point of shivers, children crying at the most bizarre sights of floating objects and beings, and even narratives that speak about being attacked — all of this from the same demon terrorizing this once peaceful community.

A demon is causing trouble; what does that have to deal with you? As far as you can tell, none of the people in that town even look your way or treat you with barely decent manners without you harboring a disguise — why should I care for them? That is the question you raised to the two hunters who traveled into the forest to find your hut and bring the issue to you. The same hunters you are silently searching through this mansion’s dusty halls and rooms.

Demon sightings and encounters typically go straight for the church, with experienced deacons and reverends coming together to ordain a jurisdiction on dealing with the wicked spirit based on their ancient teachings. Nonetheless, the church has admitted defeat in exorcising this particular demon. This robust, evil creature is gifted with abilities that have caused near-death for the most adept church members. Every failed attempt only fuels more despair for them and the citizens…which is the demon hunter guild sent two of their fairly newest yet most skilled to come to your abode and convince you to lend them your expertise.

At first, you watched as the two men tried to sway your resilience into giving them aid, yet your stubbornness was a solid obstacle for them to navigate. To you, helping a community that holds ill will towards you just because of your lifestyle to the point of outcasting yourself makes your stomach turn into the worst of knots — something both Higuruma and Nanami found validation in your sternness. But they inquired, you are a practitioner far from their customs, meaning your ridiculed ways have a different advantage and approach. To them, the combined powers of the hunting party and sorcery are necessary to bring down the same evil. Not to mention, you knew of this demon and his powers, so your intellect is profoundly essential – if not by the townspeople, then by the two comely huntsmen begging for your cooperation.

So, with a heavy sigh and a “…Fine,” you agree to work with the men on their mission on the condition that they capture the ghoul alive. And with two handshakes and a day to devise a plan, you’re now in this rusty place combing for the injured specimen that’s caused all this disturbance…

The inspection is done quietly so the three pairs of ears can catch any cue of noise or voice. No sentences are exchanged, and the three of you are on the same page and motioning around the halls not to have your position compromised for your enemy. Until a clash is heard in a room down the hall, you and the hunters swiftly appear at the door.

Before anything is done, you gently place your fingers on the wooden surface, and your eyes glare with the contact. The material before you turns transparent, the room’s contents visible to your naked eye. According to the layout, this is the second-floor living area with a fireplace, a couch set, and bookshelves on the far right side. And something - no, someone - writhing on the ground, clutching its left shoulder - or what’s left of it as there’s a massive chunk eviscerated off from the collar to the bicep — and bolts of lightning course around the seething figure until faded.

He tried to escape from the window; you note that the exact strings of bolts come from a giant closed windowsill, a talisman plastered outside on the glass. Your eyes return to normal, “I’m going in.” You move without an answer from the huntsmen, your hands grabbing the handles and pushing them to let you in. With your entrance to the cold room, the person is alerted and groans in agony as they change positions for battle despite the pain conveyed in their huffs. You snap your fingers and throw light to the fireplace, and you’re finally met with the being you’ve been tailing after.

White hair is the first thing that captures your eyes, followed by the bare chest exposed by the lack of a shirt—black hakama with intricate blue and white designs that skitter the bottom openings. Sky-blue tattoos decorate the milky skin from his wrist to his shoulders, pectorals, and streak back to his nape. Finally, the blue horns and tail confirm his non-humanness, and the six signature eyes that his face holds. Six cerulean orbs lock into your frame; the “normal” set has two eyes sitting beneath them, all shining cautiously.

“Gojo Satoru,” you speak first. “Good to see you again.”

He scoffs with a pained grimace. “Wish I could say the same to you, witch. But I didn’t know getting my shoulder murked was part of the greeting.” His right hand was coated with blood from the open wound, crimson spilling down his arm onto the carpeted ground.

“My apologies,” you say flatly with a step forward. Yet you halt at Gojo’s bloody hand, which forms a sign and points to you. “But you were given multiple chances to stop and still ran.”

“Yeah, well, what do you expect me to do when you’re being chased by a dark sorceress and two pushy demon hunters,” he spits blood to the side before averting his gaze to the door. “Whom I can sense hiding with a weapon and shikigami, by the way—not cool, Nanamin!”

“Not my name.” Nanami bluntly retorts before you continue.

“You know why we were chasing you down, Gojo. You’ve been frightening the townspeople for the past three moons, an issue that’s been troublesome enough for the church to seek my help.”

Six eyes roll with the click of the teeth. “Mch, traitor, outed by a fellow outcaster.”

“Know it wasn’t my initial choice. Besides,” you move the slit of your dress to open the bag of your thigh. Your forefinger and thumb pull out a green liquid tablet. “You should be thankful that I’m the one capturing you and not killing you here and now.”

You throw the tablet in the demon’s direction, who catches it with his tongue and gulps it down. Instantly, a grumble of stress and pain befalls Gojo, his hand returning to the wound you’re responsible for. This time, tissue muscle regenerates and stitches itself back into its earliest mode, rebuilding his shoulder until the skin morphs back and restores the tattoo that once sat there. “Haaahhh…how thoughtful of you.”

“Stand down now, Satoru,” you cross your arms and crouch. “Leave this place and return to the demon realm where you’ve agreed to stay.”

“No can do, witch. I ain’t going anywhere until I get what’s mine.” Now that his injury is sealed, he stands up to dust off his pants and stretches. “And seeing that you’ve finally crawled out of whatever hole you’ve been hiding for three months, looks like you’re ready to return it.”

A neutral expression remains. “I’m not giving it back.”

“Then I’m not going back — not like I have any interest to anyway; it’s sooooo boring there.”

“The last time I had to come after you and your antics was with Yaga half a year ago,” you caught the slight narrow of his eyes at the mention of the retired demon hunter. “And the only reason you still walk among the living is because you agreed to his conditions that you return to the demon realm and give me half of your Limitless and Infinity.”

“Agreed or getting hit by the old man until I said I would?” He jokes, but he points to his head where the former hunter had beaten the young ghoul with the sheath of his sword. “But I don’t sense him with you. Guess the geezer finally retired, and not many huntsmen are up to his level now,” Gojo spaces his feet to steady his stance, putting his fists up with a smirk. “Meaning it won’t be too hard getting the rest of my power back.”

You lift a brow. “You underestimate me.”

“Can’t help it,” all his eyes laminate to a brighter hue. “You might be a sorcerer, but you’re still human, flesh and bones that can break easily with or without my Limitless.”

“You think you can break me.”

Metallic nails sharpen with a flex, “Without a doubt.”

Silence shays between you two briefly before you stand right back up. “Then you’re just as foolish as any other human.”

At the final word, the huntsmen dash into the room and begin to charge Gojo’s way, running past your figure as you recite spells. However, the demon’s eyes shine expectantly, slashing his hand filled with energy to dart red crescent-like blades to the men. They dodge and go in opposite directions. Nanami uses his blade and aims for Gojo’s forearm—no damage, used as a shield with his Limitless.

“Nanami~n, how’ve ya been?” The monster asks with a chipper, nonchalantly pushing his arm to push the fair-haired man back. “It’s been a while; I haven’t seen you since you came to get me and Suguru from an old pub!”

“Yes, I remember,” Nanami voices with slight reluctance, sneaking a dagger into the abdomen only for his wrist to be caught by the demon’s tail. “I also remember my superiors warning you and Geto-san to quit causing trouble.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that? Staying in the demon realm is dull and boring. But here,” Gojo puts Nanami on his back with a swift swipe of his leg, kicking him to the chest for a strained groan. “Here is not much of a buzzkill; humans flock to this planet like sheep, little playthings that never cease to entertain me.” He places his foot on the other’s chest, biting his lips after a lick. “…And sure tasty as hell.”

In a flash, the three-limbed shikigami lurks to headbutt Gojo off of Nanami, propelling him into the direction of Higuruma, who stands ready with a sword in position for a slash. Gojo notices him in his peripheral and maneuvers to land on the wall beside the older hunter at the last second. “Hm? Hey, you’re new.” The ghoul gives the dark-haired man a punch to the cheek. “How long have you been in the guild, big-nose?”

“Five months,” Higuruma admits airly as Gojo swerves from the lunges of the steel sword. “But I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

“Ehhhh, who woulda thought I was that famous!…Huh?” Something emerges beneath Gojo’s shadow, pulling the demon in and swallowing his body halfway into the wall. “And a shikigami user at that? Heheh, demon hunters might be becoming interesting this time around…”

Higuruma backs up once Gojo is consumed wholly by his umbra and disappears into the wall. He turns to you, “Is that it? How are we supposed—“

You cut him off. “Get back!”

The spot where the shadow that was once plastered on the wall appears again; this time, the dark shape changes from its black shade into a radiating sky-blue hue. Then, Higuruma backs away, cracks from the glowing tone flourish around the wall, and the old paint withers with ash. “Stay ready,” you warn with your hands coated with energy for whatever comes your way.

A fist emerges from the wall, two hands pulling the spot apart to create a more prominent crater. The fire in the fireplace is sucked inside the glowing hole, and blue horns and silver hair poke out with the torso. “Haaah, being sucked inside your own shadow is suffocating, ya know.” Six mischievous locks on the older hunter responsible for such a sneak attack. “Maybe I should give you a taste of your own medicine, newbie.”

Nanami doesn’t give him a chance, throwing a dagger to penetrate Gojo’s Limitless and pierce his forehead. A cry of pain is expectant yet not given, the creature pulling and discarding the weapon to let the wound heal. With a chuckle, he licks the blood drizzling to his lips. “That wasn’t nice, Nanamin. Be patient and wait for your…turn!” Gojo darts out of the wall with inhumane speed, the sand-haired man barely ricocheting the nails, eager to carve into his skin. Rapid kicks guarded and calculating every move, Nanami does what he can to keep up. Until a punch to his face knocks his goggles off, and a kick to his gut has him projected to another side of the room.

You clap your hands together, the power within your fingertips emits spider-like strings intertwined, and Gojo stops moving. The right hand comes up and slowly goes down, and Gojo suddenly goes to his knees with his hands up above as if holding – or preventing – something from pushing him onto the floor. “So much for ‘breaking’ me, huh.”

“—Khhh, fuck…” He grouches, trying to writhe from whatever spell you’ve enacted, yet appears more difficult than he figured. “Give me my…powers back, witch!”

“Surrender, now, Gojo Saotru.” Higuruma appears from behind, hailing his sword down to stab the vulnerable target now that he’s under your control.

“F-Fat…fucking chance!”

…Not entirely, though, forgetting one thing that acts with a mind of its own: Gojo’s tail. The thing extends to wrap around Higuruma’s wrists, squeezing painfully hard to throttle him and the weapon to the floor. Then, pupils dim from the glow of Gojo’s Six Eyes, directing onto your frame and blinding you instantly. Fuck! Whether you open or close your eyes, all you can see is the blinding strains of blue eyes that block your vision, your hands coming to your face and undoing the spell.

“Sorceress!” Higuruma calls out to you, standing up to initiate combat with the demon. Yet, Gojo already appears from behind and hits his nape hard, and the huntsman has no choice but to submit to unconsciousness. But that’s not all; he then grabs the knocked-out man and throws him in your direction. An action you couldn’t foresee and unfortunately got caught up in, unable to enumerate the force of the throw that has both bodies break several walls that lead to an empty room.

Nothing but pain stimulates your senses, aside from the disorienting eyes obstructing your vision slowly fading. You blink frequently, your body aching so much every time you move as you turn to your left where Higuruma’s immobile body lays.

“Hiromi, wake up…Hiromi!” It’s no use; his name isn’t enough to wake him, nor the slaps you pepper on his cheek. “Ghh, of all times to nap…Wake u—“

You hear a sound from the front, your head turning instantly to find a body before you: teleportation! Two fingers press to your forehead, and you, too, become immobile before succumbing to an abrupt rush of sleep. And the last thing you saw was an annoying, insolent grin on the face of a man with horns.

Oh, shit…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Nmm….mmm…”

You awoke to the sound of groaning, eyelids straining to rise. Moving a single muscle in your arm hurts like a bitch, pain permeating throughout tissues and nerves connected. The ringing in your ears begins to disappear, yet nevertheless irksome.

A few blinks ease the bleary eyes, registering that you are not in a familiar setting. The ceiling is easy to make out, and some warm lighting picked up, too. Must be candles. Old paintings, a dresser, and a nightstand — without a doubt, you weren’t in the living area anymore. You are now stuck in what appears to be a bedroom.

“Ghh…! Ahh, shit…”

That noise again. Turning to your side sluggishly, you see Higuruma’s figure lying parallel to you. “Hiromi,” you whisper to him, his name heard as the man grouses again. You place a hand on his shoulder; his clothing is sullied after being thrown around like you. “Hunter, are you all right?”

“Nnmm, yeah, I’m okay.” He answers, head still processing what has transpired. “Fuck, that was a throw. My head hurts…”

“Yeah, I know, you were knocked cold.” Your head turns to the sides; to your left are the windows that lead to the outside, and a couch sits to your right. “This must be one of the bedrooms of this mansion.”

Higuruma finally opens his eyes. “We’ve been separated from Kento.”

“Yes, and I can’t seem to sense his energy anywhere. Same with yours…” Lips flatten. “Damn it, Satoru must’ve subdued me somehow.”

“Hah, man. This is not how this was—“

“—Mmph! S-Stop, Gojo…!”

“Wh~y? You seem to be enjoying it.”

Two pairs of eyes shot wide at the familiar voices, catching the attention of you and the demon hunter’s eardrums. You two don’t move a single centimeter, allowing the room to respond to your suspicions, and more sounds and noises enter the fray—more…questionable sounds, at that.

You and Higuruma look to the couch, the source of where the voices were coming from, or rather behind it. Slow movements are taken to precaution, the two of you making your way to the furniture to creep and rest your knees away from the hard floor. Slowly lifting your heads, you two investigate what’s concealed by the couch’s camel back.

And what you see is beyond what you had envisaged.

There’s a bed that stands, and old canopy curtains draped along the wooden frame give it a luxurious appearance. Candles and lanterns are turned on by either bedside, basking a warm glow that goes with the tranquil safety of a bedroom. However, you weren’t alone; two occupants also keep the room company, and they’ve chosen the bed as the safest leisure spot.

What comes to mind when you think of a bed? Sleeping, of course. Possibly a place of rest whenever you come home from a long day’s work. And perhaps, maybe other explicit activities your mind can think of…But something as explicit as seeing a demon giving a demon huntman a blowjob? Hardly foreseeable.

There’s no mistaking it: the white-haired spirit’s head bobbing up and down was an easy catch, his tail waving from side to side as you picked up muffled moans that were somehow mute to you moments ago. Slurping noises are heard from a distance yet are too erotic of a sound for your ears to expect in this scenario, nonetheless. Nanami’s thighs spread for the ghoul, jerking and fighting to bounce with bitten lips, rosy cheeks, and golden-knitted eyebrows, an expression you never thought you’d seen from such a stoic man as the young man.

Nanami throws his head back, hitting the backboard of the bed. “Hnnmmmshit…Gojo, knock it–ahhaa!!-offff…!” His hands restrained to his back, probably from magic.

Gojo lifts his head and spits on the head of the human male’s cock. “You say that, but look how hard you’re getting,” he strokes the hunter with vigor, the human under his grasp arching his back to the touch. “Damn, who would’ve thought you had something this big; guess that’s expected of a demon hunter, huh.” His tongue laps around the pink glans, climbing to the urethra to tease; Nanami’s legs quiver more. “And look at all this precum…What’s got you all pent up?”

“—Tchhh, fuck, you!” Chocolate eyes hone onto the monster’s figure. “You are what, always giving me more shit to do…Mmmm, can’t stay still in one place…”

“Nope! You, of all people, should know that” he kisses the underside up before claiming the tip for a harsh suck, resulting in a yelp darting out of the blonde’s mouth — you covered your lips. “Besides, isn’t it my job to keep you on your toes, hmm? I’d be making your days pretty boring without me around.”

Nanami observes Gojo retreat his mouth off him, substituting with his hand to stroke the erection to maintain the warmth and friction. The evil spirit draws his face near the hunter’s, all six orbs of his flushed expression, and he scoffs humorlessly. “You call it ‘boring,’ but I’d say any day where I don’t have to deal with the carefree and annoying Gojo Satoru.”

Gojo’s prominent eyes narrow with an impish glint, and his milky nose brushes with the pink of Nanami’s. “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy my company. Especially with this mood, Na-Na-Min.”

You could not believe what played out before you: Gojo Satoru, one of [if not] the strongest demons to roam, kissing with the phlegmatic, young yet swift hunter, Nanami Kento!?!? Has the stars gone in disarray all of a sudden? Was there some dark omen befalling this hour?? You had no idea, your thoughts going a million miles to reach an adequate conscience. Yet how could you when you’re seeing the two opposites melt into the kiss, transitioning from a sweet peck into a more sinister and indecorous one!? Tongues exchanged within each other’s mouths, moans becoming louder with the increasing pace of Gojo’s hand on the excited hard-on. Such an unintended turn of events, especially for Higuruma — big wide eyes witnessing his subordinate be used.

The older huntsman brings you down to hide; however, the couch is no shield from the auditory commotion. W-What in the—what is the meaning of this? The two were in combat not long ago; how do we switch from a battle to an intimate moment like this? How long was I asleep for? Could Satoru have used something to cause Nanami to act like this? No, he doesn’t use spells like that; that’s more my domain…Unless, could he ha—

Your train of thought is put to a stop when something heavy lands on your right shoulder. Higuruma surprises you unexpectedly, placing his forehead on your shoulder. “Hunter?” You whisper with concern, shaking him by his arm. “Hunter Hiromi, what’s the matter? Are you fe—“

Words stop when you hear a deep inhale, and a shaky exhale exits from Higuruma’s lips. And then another, he turns his face to face where your neck is.

……Did…Did he just sniff me?

That’s not the weird part, though; the older hunter creeps into an area exposed from your dress’ cold shoulder. Another airy breath steams your skin before you’re met with something cold and hot. He kisses your collarbone slowly; the sensation makes you jump and stiff.

D-Did he just kiss me?!

“Hiromi?” You probe again, shaking him more. “What’s gotten into—“

“Sorceress,” his voice low to not grab the attention of the other men busy with themselves, yet loud enough for you to notice a behavior change. “My head, it’s…pounding like crazy…”

“Your head? Why, what’s—“ His head goes deeper into the crook of your neck, and your heart nearly leaps out your throat from his lips, kissing you again with a light puff. The contact has you suppress a gasp; your nerves under his mouth are hypersensitive for whatever reason! Okay, what the fuck? “Wh-what’s wrong? Why is your head aching all of a sudden?”

“You…smell so good.”

Wow, that’s not an answer you prepared for, both in mind and body.

Speaking of body, Higuruma’s hands creep on your frame, his left glides to your shoulder to hold – the calloused pads of his fingertips send shivers up your spine – and his right comes to wrap your waist, pulling you closer to him. And he begins to pepper your reactive skin with more kisses, sucking the flesh with a pucker after a lick. The soft smacks of his lips get wetter, and heat from your cheeks is more complicated to avoid.

“Hunter Hiromi…! Snap out of i—Ohhmm!!” Your lips clench to halt the yelp, almost jumping out of your esophagus. Fuck, why am I so fucking sensitive!? Hushed complaints fell on deaf ears, Higuruma still latching his lips onto your warm skin to suck.

It was then you looked at your bag positioned at the exact spot you were unconscious with the huntsman, tiny valves you stored sprawled out of their organized system. Then, you notice one shattered, pink liquid exuding to the floor burns into gas that fades with the atmosphere. You’re familiar with the potion you see, and your confusion switches to utter dread.

Before leaving on this mission with the huntsmen, you specifically remember telling your witch-in-training, Miwa, to stock up on your mini potions within your bag for defense. Knowing how ditzy that young, blue-haired witchling can be, she probably thought you meant every glass you had — no wonder the shit was a little heavier than usual!

Finally, it all begins to click: the flush of Nanami’s cheeks, Gojo’s unexpected sexuality, Higuruma’s demeanor switch, and your nerves acute at every touch — you got to be fucking kidding me! That broken vial was an aphrodisiac harboring a musk so strong it could bring down a humongous orc within minutes, a spell you had crafted for a customer only for your witchling to misplace it. Now, you’re here reaping the consequences in the worst situation possible! How did it break in the first place?! It could be from when you were thrown through multiple walls and went tumbling to the ground, the effects taking fruition when Gojo knocked you out earlier.

And to make matters worse, you’re not the only one undergoing this; three men now act like absolute horndogs because of this mistake, taking this mission to a complete 180° turn. Just when you thought this task was difficult enough, a curveball such as this throws you off. Unbelievable!

“For crying out loud,” you curse under your breath. “Hiromi, try to fight it! This isn’t—“ he kisses up your neck to your chin, and your attempts to push him off are weaker the closer he inches. Muscles tense when the hand to your waist glides to the crevice of your bottom — and a twitch between your legs. “Stop! Now is not the ti—Mmnn!” He cusps the flesh of your asscheek, bringing the other hand down to grope your ass. Holy Christ, “N-N, wait! Don’t touch it like…Haahhh.” Fuck these damn aphrodisiac effects!

“Fuck, you smell so fucking good, sorceress,” Higuruma inhales your scent brazenly. “That perfume is driving me nuts.” His fingers are hungrier as they fondle your butt, forcing you to rock your hips with his rhythm. The huntsman comes to your ear; his hot breath brushing the lobe causes your skin to crawl. And then he gives it a lick, and you jump.

“F–For Christ’s sake!” Your heartbeat hammers your chest. “Don’t do that, I’m sensitive…!” He doesn’t listen, lathering your ear with more licks and kisses. It sounds so erotic; his groans up close to your propinquity that you don’t know what to think right now. The heat between your thighs gets intolerable, imbuing your lower region more and more. “Don’t lick iiit…Ahaah…”

The both of you mesh together in each other’s warmth, Higuruma’s touches growing bolder to prompt you to bite down and stop your moans from getting louder. Your hands are still on his chest, yet exhibit not that much of a push, allowing the man to do as he wishes to make your brain turn into mush. Before you know it, his hands find the slits of your dress and meet bare skin, and you gasp at his calloused fingers ravaging your pantie-covered butt. Fingernails dig as he roughly kneads your rear muscles, silent screams pulled out of your body.

“Ughh, I can’t,” he speaks softly. “I can’t stop. I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, but” before you know it, his weight adds onto you and forces you to lie on your back. Great, now you’re really stuck under him. “I just can’t…you smell way too good. And you taste so good, too,” he peppers your cheek with a smooch just centimeters away from the corner of your lips. “God, you taste too good; it’s like I’m addicted.”

“Hahh–H-Hunter, not here…We shouldn’t—“

“No, stop,” Higuruma finally lifts his face; your field of vision met with glassy, hooded eyes and furrowed brows. Strands of his onyx hair fell out of its pushed-back form and stuck to the beads of sweat on his forehead, and a flush of red cascaded from one ear to the other. He’s heaving so desperately — as composure stands out, he looks awful! “Keep calling me…by my name.”

Your breath hitches as his face draws closer. “Hi–Hiromi,” and closer. “Hiro—Ohh!—…miii.” His knee meets the area between your legs, pushing onto where your underwear guards your chasm. And the thought that a potential wet spot might be protruding is embarrassing to think about.

“Good girl,” he praises, lips hovering tantalizingly over yours. “Good girl…”

Finally, after many teases all over your body, Higuruma places his lips over yours to claim. The kiss ignites a fire, instantly combusting within your nervous system and leaving you hot. The heat inside your panties worsens and has you writhing under him, hands grabbing onto the back of his black undershirt as he pushes his face into you more.

He drinks your squeaks, and his tongue slithers on your bottom lip, nibbling on it to evoke more helpless whimpers. “So sweet,” he mummers. “You taste so sweet, baby…”

Baby!? You had to be dreaming, your heart beating way too fast under these conditions, and your cunt spasming involuntarily. I can’t give in to this potion, I can’t…!

You chant these words internally, yet you can’t stop the quirks of your inner walls as Higuruma pushes his tongue to your teeth. It wasn’t suspected, your mouth opening up in surprise, not knowing that was exactly what the older huntsman wanted for him to intrude into your oral cavity with his wet muscle. You gasp aloud, the sensation of his moist tongue swirling around your mouth and dancing with yours tightens the grip on his shirt.

At this point, everything is happening all at once. You don’t realize your resilience slipped as you whine underneath the man’s bow, heads turning to stay locked with each other’s lips as the pecks grow prurient by the second. Your hips sway to and fro on their own, alongside Higuruma’s, as his hips rock to your tempo. Your legs came around his waist to keep him close, too enamored by him sucking your tongue to even notice.

Then, all of a sudden, something sneaks inside your dress and ventures south and pushes the damp spot of your underwear into your leaking cunt. Electric shocks shoot to your head, and it takes everything in your power not to scream. “—Thhh!! F-Fffaahhh…!! Hi-Hiromi, what are you—“

“Holy shit, I didn’t know how wet you were down here,” A finger presses down into the area, and more liquids flood out of your opening and expand the dampness. “Damn. It’s so hot.”

“Noo, stop it, don’t touch—“ the forefinger swipes up and down and gets swallowed by your clothed outer labia. Your legs quiver, “I’m too sensitized right now! If you keep touching me, you’re gonna–Aahhh!” He brushes your clitoris; oh, this is very bad. “I’m gonna break…!”

“Oh? But I can feel you aching under my fingertips,” he adds his middle finger to circle your slit, the movements tortuous to endure. “Doesn’t it hurt if I leave you just hot and twitchy like this? Don’t you want me to ease it?” You can’t reply, too distracted from his digits, pushing your underwear aside for them to feel the raw flesh of your bareness. “I think you do; don’t you feel how crazy you’re wanting my fingers inside you right now?”

“Stop saying that! It’s embarrassing…! Mmoohh…” Higuruma skims around the split of your vagina, and your breathing gets heavier. “—Nnnmm, fuck, it’s so hooot…”

He kisses your cheek and the corner of your lips. “It’s okay, baby, I got you…” He speaks so low you could melt. “Just relax for me, okay?”

You only reply to him with another passionate kiss, being way more receptive than the last by shoving your tongue into his. The hunter takes this to advantage and patiently pushes his middle finger into your slit. You whine at the insertion, mouth agape as the entire digit nestles inside your warmth. Higuruma instantly greets you with scrapes against your inner texture, the blunt of his fingertip itching your walls to the point of your toes curling.

The haze increases, coherent thoughts turn into fog, and your senses are overwhelmed by the lower commotion. You suck on Higuruma’s tongue with a hum, descending to the wiggle of his finger migrating your insides. Jesus Christ, it felt so good. Was it real, or was it because of the effects of the aphrodisiac, making every fiber of your body hypersensitive? Regardless, you can’t deny how enrapturing it is to have him ease your itch.

Once he adds his ring finger into your wet cavern, you grab hold of his shoulders as both digits push into you until they’re knuckles deep. “Oohhh, ohhhmyG—Hiromi, Hiro!” His name is the only thing that feels easy to blubber out. “I can’t, it feels so good…Ohhh, right there, please…”

“Yeah, you like it when I do this?” He curls both fingers to graze your upper wall, and you jolt upward. “Or…this?” He stretches them apart in a scissor motion, and you nearly choke on your spit.

“Sh-Shtop it,” you croak. “I’ll cum, I’ll fucking cummm!!” The chuckle you hear from above is smooth like honey, unable to fight the twitch of your walls.

“Go on, cum on my fingers, sorceress,” he coaxes. “And then I’ll go right between your legs, strip that underwear off, and lick you down for making such a mess on me until you’re sore and want nothing but my dick.”Ho. Ly. Shit. “You hear me?” You nod hurriedly, earning another short laugh. “Then cum, sweetie.” Higuruma increases the flick of his fingers, shoving them inside you as deep and fast as he can to where you don’t know how to contain your choked sobs. He gives you his lips again to quiet and calm you down while he effortlessly caresses your velvety channel.

Nonstop motions prompt you to buck your hips and arch your back until you feel as though you’re falling from a peak. Inner muscles spasm erratically around the hunter’s digits, legs tensing up with tremors, and your wails taken by Higuruma, who moans lovingly along with you. Your frame jerks to him with every wave of your climax, and shocks clatter up to make you dizzy and foggy.

“Mm, there you go, darling,” Higuruma coos before placing a chaste peck on your forehead, removing his fingers from you to see them coated in the fresh slick you’ve gushed. “So good.”

“Wow, what a show!”

Suddenly, the lukewarm feelings soothed around your figure abruptly halt once a new voice shatters you and Higuruma back to reality. Your eyes leave each other and look up to find six on your close-knitted bodies, blue orbs glued onto you two as if to examine you exceptionally near.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Gojo waves a hand. “Please go on~.”Higuruma is the first to make a move, but a firm grip catches his wrist, throws him into the air fluidly, and lands on the bed with no grace. “Not what I meant, newbie.”

“Satoru!” You try to slap him, but he grabs your wrist as well. “What are you doing—“

“Uhh, shouldn’t I be asking you the same question, witch?” He brings his face close. “I never took you, so stoic and all business, for a bit of pervert. If I knew you sounded cute and desperate having your pussy teased with, I’d have you wrapped my finger a long time ago.”

“Tah, I’m the pervert? You seemed to enjoy stuffing your face with Kento’s dick. Quite good at it yourself; is that your favorite sport? Something you like to do when you’re not terrorizing towns?”

“What, don’t know what it looks like to have a good time? And not to point fingers, but let’s not forget your potion has us all like this.”

You grimace. “Maybe don’t throw people at about five walls, or something will break!”

“Maybe don’t bring such powerful erotic potions to a battle, and we wouldn’t have that problem! But don’t worry,” Gojo then lifts you off the couch in bridal style. “You’ll take responsibility.”Before you could argue back, the evil spirit teleports you two back to the bed where he primarily was. Now, four bodies lay on the huge old yet soft mattress, all under the potion’s spell, and share a mutual lustful atmosphere. “How long does this aphrodisiac last?”

“…Two hours max.”

“Well, you’ve been knocked out for nearly thirty minutes. So, while we still have the time,” he pushes you off him to where Higuruma lies. “Why don’t you help these two with your mishap?”

“It was an accident—“

“Aye, an accident that now has Mister Big-Nose over here hard as a rock.” You look down to where Gojo’s pointing and see a tent jutting out of Higuruma’s pants. Your lips flatten at the sight, same with the owner of the boner. “Why the faces? What happened to all that talk about eating them out?”

“T-That wasn’t what—“

“Oh c’mon, newbie, you sure ‘bout that? Look,” Gojo maneuvers to where you sit and picks up a leg, moving your dress out of the way and removing your panties to discard. And now, your wet and sticky cunt is out for the men to see. Good Lord, Satoru!! “Look at how wet you made them feel back there; they were really excited about how good you made them feel. And I’m sure they look forward to your handsome face sitting in between their juicy legs.”

Had the silence been longer than a few seconds, you would’ve told Gojo off and left the other be. But the sound of an unbuckled belt is heard as you observe Higuruma sliding his pants down and revealing the erect limb free. The sight of precum sliding down the angry pink tip down to his balls is brain-altering. He then loosens his shirt, letting his stomach breathe, and your eyes catch the raven-happy trail from above his lower abs down to his pubes. Holy absolute fuck.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Gojo pushes you further. “There’s a nice face waiting to be sat!”

“Shut up!” You wish to throw curses at him all you want. However, you crawl to where Higuruma’s face is crooked and sheepishly lift your dress to place your knees and align yourself. “Please…forgive me, Hiromi.”

“It’s okay, sweetpea,” your heart skips at the nickname and his hands finding your waist. “Nice and slow, okay?”

You listen to his command and slowly descend your hips to Higuruma’s face, toes quirking at the brush of his noise hitting your taint. A sharp gasp leaves your lips when his tongue greets your labia, swishing around to intake the nectar dripping out of it. “Ohhh, shit…” You hum as he groans, your hips having a mind of their own and swerving around, yet the man beneath doesn’t fail to latch his lips onto you, his hands now curling to your butt.

A hand finds its way to where his erection stands tall, your fingers circling the shaft before motioning up and down. More excessive cum escapes out the urethra to paint your fingernails and tips, veins pulsing against your palm as you jerk him off. He then laments when your free hand cups his balls to massage, kneading one of the testicles gingerly like rough dough.

From your peripheral, you spot Nanami coming into view, and you cry out when his peer sticks his tongue into your opening and slurps. “Kento.”

“Sorry,” the blonde man stands in front of you while fisting his cock. “Might need your help here…”

You titter, hearing him sigh heavily as you bend down and blow on his cockhead. “May I?” He nods to you and caresses your cheek, guiding your lips to take in his tip and gradually swallow his inches. You suck him in till your mouth is busy with his length, moving your tongue around the underside, which makes Nanami hiss.

“Hahhh, fuck, yes, love,” you hear him from up above, his hands coming to your head to maintain while he jerks his hips into your mouth. His balls meet your chin with every push, and his musk is all that attacks your nostrils. The fog in your head makes you dizzier and dizzier, humming on the dick you’re swallowing.

And you can’t forget the snow-haired person who brings his hand to your chest area and rips the seams open. Your breasts are now out and exposed to the open air, and a nipple finds its way onto the flat of a reptile-like tongue. “Awww, cupcake, you’ve been hiding these tits from me, too? Heh, not fair…”

The only sounds that you can pick up are all raunchy, squelching noises from between your legs, slopping wet cues as you slurp on cock, and Gojo’s moans as he sucks and plays with your breasts. If you thought things were overwhelming earlier, you’re sure as hell finding yourself drowning in your senses. Gojo nibbles on your nipples, his teeth grazing the buds, and have your thighs jolt. Meanwhile, Higuruma’s hands keep your asscheeks glued to him as he drinks up more of your essence while pushing his tongue into your slit, fucking your insides for more fluids to coat his tastebuds.

Nanami’s hip work dials up to a faster tempo, stuffing your face with more of his cock to the point that he hits the back of your throat frequently. Your eyes start to water as you begin to taste the salty precum lathering with your spit. Yet you slurp on him with a whine, sucking harshly onto the top, where you push your tongue to the split of his urethra to toy with.

The sand-haired man throws his head back. “—Khhfff, fuck,” his head pounding while you dance your wet muscle around the crown of his shaft and frenulum. “Ohhhh, Goddamn it…! Just like that, my love, like that…”You listen to Nanami’s requests and continue, your hand stroking faster onto Higuruma’s cock with vigor.

“Very good, you three, very good…” Gojo eggs you on, removing his face from your chest and tapping your cheek to release the girth. “Now it’s time to switch it up.”The ghoul then pushes Nanami onto his back; this time, you’re straddling him while Gojo urges Higuruma to straighten up. “Nanami’s been such a nice guy, huh? Why not reward him with a taste of what this newbie was feasting on, cutie?”

Your eyes travel down to where Nanami’s cock is pressed to your belly, and you lift your ass and grab him to kiss your folds with his glans. You both share a look and whimper aloud as his tip makes it inside your vagina, thanks to your come, and you leisurely drop your ass onto him. “Hoooh, fuck, feels so good…!” You shrill, and your hips begin to go to and fro.

“And as for you,” Higuruma groans as Gojo takes hold of him and aligns his glans to your ass. “Fuck them good here, got it?”

The raven-haired man’s hands meet your buttcheeks, and you go ahead and bend down for him to get the full view. “Damn,” he gulps. Before doing anything, Higuruma moistures his fore and middle fingers with his spit and circles around your asshole gently until they get past the puckered sphincter. You remind yourself to relax as he readies your ass, his fingertips pushing in and out to adjust the cavern for what’s to come. And after a minute, he pulls them out and substitutes them for his ready member, and you scream in mute as he pushes himself into your rear end. “Oh, fuck, fuck!” He swears with a bitten lip. “So tight…Hahhh…feel so good, darling.”

The two human men rock into your holes simultaneously, having your frame join with the cadence they inflict to follow. Both your holes are ravished, Nanami’s dick turning your insides into goo with every graze to your sweet spots, and you almost shut down from the occasion of surprise pokes of your cervix. The man behind you plows your butt with purpose, shoving his member deep into your rear channel and rubbing on the walls that have you unable to fight the drool escaping.

And last but not least, Gojo grabs your chin and pushes his tip to your puffy lips. “Hey, baby. Mind I have a turn with those lips of yours?”You roll your eyes with a smile before curling your tongue around his crown and taking it inside your lips. The demon sighs under your lips, bucking his hips impatiently for you to suck every inch of him. “Fucking—Nnnmm! Your tongue…Gggahh!!”

All three men go wild in your grasp. Nanami’s pace slips to an erratic fashion, rutting deep with accurate rubs to your G-spot that leave you mumbling onto Gojo’s dick. Higuruma nearly loses himself while pistoning his pelvis to your ass, his forehead coming to your shoulder to rest. “Christ, your ass is driving me crazy.” He kisses the space between your shoulder and neck and bites down. You cry and suck on Gojo’s cock harshly, making the demon hiss above you.

“—Uugghh, so tight!” Nanami grabs your waist with firm hands and drills himself upward faster. “Fuck it, I need to cumm…!!”

“Me too, Kento—shit—me too…” His older peer slurs, burrowing his face into your neck to lick and nibble on your skin. “Almost..there….!”

It isn’t long before all three men come at you with a unioned tempo, and you’re way too engrossed in the sensations to notice how wet you’re getting from the constant pleasures. Your frame is used as their plaything as they fuck your holes, borderline degrading, yet you can’t deny how good they feel for relieving the horny itch you’re feeling. Fuck! More, more, more!! Continuous rough ruts to your chasms and mouth have you numb, and your scream is muffled as Gojo grabs for your face to bury his cock deep into your throat as he dispenses his load into you.

Nanami and Higuruma aren’t far from joining him, too, the two climaxing simultaneously and filling you to the brim with their white, thick essence. Groans bounce off each other and the bedroom walls; three bodies pant heavily and heave above and beneath you, as they experience the peak of their crescendos. And after a few more thrusts and jerks, they soon allow themselves to slide down from their high.

The huntsmen from behind take his cock out of your ass, a string of his cum still linking to your puckered hole. Now, with him off, you swallow down the last of Gojo’s semen before withdrawing your face and raising your hips off of Nanami’s dick.

Gojo comes to you to place his forehead on your sweat one. “Holy shit, that was good,” he praises as he cups your cheeks to squish them. “That’s one way to take me down. But, are ya ready to let me fuck that pretty cunt of yours?”You don’t say anything, just grabbing his chin to lure him into a kiss, which he anticipates…

…However, he doesn’t meet your lips as expected. Instead, while he’s distracted, you sneak a hand to the chain that wrings around your neck. A locket that you open the pendant to grab for a tablet and quickly shove it inside Gojo’s mouth. Six eyes widen as you cover his mouth shut, forcing him to swallow whatever it is that’s inside his oral cavity.

And before he has the idea of pushing you off and overpowering you, Nanami is quick to grab hold of his arms and restrict them to his back. Higuruma takes his lesson from earlier and grabs Gojo’s tail before it goes around, making people fly off. It takes a group effort; however, the freakish devil’s strength weakens in seconds, and his eyes roll until the lids fall over. Slumber hits the creature, unconscious both in mind and body, as his figure slumps on Nanami’s chest. The blonde hunter gently places the white-haired being down as you all watch him fall into a deep sleep.

“Finally,” you exclaim and let your body fall to the mattress in exhaustion. And the other huntsmen do the same. “For God’s sake….”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Thank you again for your help, demon hunters!”

“Yes, we don’t know what we could’ve done without you two.”

“You two make the demon hunter guild proud; may Yaga recognize the talent laid after his years!”

The rain was long gone, exchanging its grey clouds with the gleaming shine of the sun and the vibrant blue of the sky. Everyday life finds its way back into the swing of things now that things are not in turmoil. And to close a mission down on a sunny day seems like a reasonable bid for closure.

Coming from your lair deep into the woods – after scolding your witchling, Miwa, for that aphrodisiac potion accident of hers and cooking a contraceptive tea – you walked toward the town to appear before the demon guild. Eyes and leers of the common folk linger onto you as you make your steps amongst them, ignoring their unconcealed judgment. Of course, it makes you uncomfortable that discrimination follows you every which way, especially after lending aid to the demon problem they so desperately needed. But alas, you didn’t come here for recognition, so you continue to walk until you reach the wooden tavern-like building.

At the front, you find a pair of familiar faces — Nanami and Higuruma — conversing with a local townswoman who thanks the huntsmen for their service. Neither party seems to notice your appearance the moment you tread closer to the front. Which is fine; again, you’re not here for celebration or acknowledgment. You’re so used to being cast aside that it practically feels innate.

That is, until you spot something beside the woman, a smaller being glued to her hip. A child, you pick up: a little boy with raven spiky hair similar to a sea urchin and slim yet puffy cheeks signature to a toddler. And his blueish green eyes are honed in on you unmistakably. It’s a bit of a funny image to see a tiny human be bold enough to look at you yet still hide their presence behind the shadow of their guardian. Whims of a child, you suppose.

The woman bows to the men with gratitude before heading off in business, only to stop in her tracks once she sees you. And to your surprise, she beams a smile. She is undoubtedly the child’s mother – her unkept hair proving hereditary. “You must be the sorceress, right?” She inquires, and you answer with a silent nod. “Good, because I wanted to come express my thanks to you and the huntsmen for having to take down that demon for our sakes! I imagine it wasn’t easy, nor was it something you wished to be burdened with.”

“No, it’s quite all right,” you shook your head as the woman bowed to you. “The demon and I have had multiple encounters before, and I’m the nearest person outside of town who’s well-versed in the demon realm and beyond. So, it’s only natural that I’d be pulled in to help the cause somehow.”

The townswoman nods along to your explanation, her smile still present. “Regardless, you did save this small city of ours. I don’t know how to thank you properly for your service, but I hope you know I am sincerely grateful you lent your prowess along with the hunters.”

“Your gratitude is well-taken. I ask that you try to stay far from trouble and be safe and vigilant.”

“Yes, I understand…And you, Megumi,” you both turn to the child you sensed observing you during the entire conversation. “Don’t you have anything you wish to say to the sorceress who saved our home?”

Quiet, the vibe you get from the silent kid who keeps his eyes on you as if you’re a stranger. Typical behavior of a child. He slowly comes behind his mother and pulls something out of his pocket. With delicacy and steadiness, his balled fist points to where you stand, and you decide to crouch down and extend a hand to him to place something.

“…Is this for me?” You ask. In your palm lies a green four-leafed plant, a clover. Not crumpled or torn in any way, ideally in its original form, and you could tell it was treated with care—a gift.

Megumi gives a curt nod. “I went to the fields yesterday with my sister and found some four-leaf clovers. Mama said they give good luck and protection to those with them. I gave one each for the hunters, so I saved this one for you.”

You have to be honest: you’re not one to gift-give in your profession. Hell, you’re not even accustomed to being handed gifts, either! It’s a custom foreign to you as you’re deemed as an outcast in many eyes of this town. Gratitude or hospitality isn’t something you’d expect from anywhere…But it seems that is different in a child’s world, for you can tell his heart is in a genuine place.

With a smile, you bring the clover to where your necklace sits above your chest. Muttering an incantation, the plant glows and disintegrates itself and is absorbed by the pendant of your locket. “Now, I’ll be sure to have good luck wherever I go, thanks to you, little one.”The young boy’s eyes flashed with wonder from your minuscule display of magic, flashing an awkward yet confident smile as you stood upright and bowed to him and his mother. “Be safe and strong for your sister and mother, Megumi.”

The child nods to your words before you bid his mother farewell, and the two spiky-headed ones walk by to wherever they came from, leaving you to the matters you initially intended to take care of.

Speaking of matters, “Sorceress,” you turn to find the huntsmen walking to greet you. Nanami is the first to talk, “You came in just in time. He’s awake now but still experiencing some grogginess.”

Higuruma adds on. “And we made sure to call him up to appear today, so things should be going smooth this time around, as you said.”

“Good,” you reply. “Thank you for your cooperation on this mission, hunters. The townpeople can return sleeping soundly now that Gojo isn’t around to cause a ruckus.”

“No, we should be thanking you.” The sand-haired man interjects. “Yaga had spoken highly of you and your professionalism during the handful of times you two had worked together. Without you, dealing with Gojo would’ve been more of a hassle I’d want to deal with.”

“Kento’s right,” the dark-headed one agrees. “Weapons and shikigami aren’t enough to bring down a strong demon lord such as Gojo; we needed as much help as possible. And it was an honor to see you in action for myself.”

“I thank you, gentlemen,” you say with downcasted eyes. “However, I apologize that it was on my bad that the situation went to a more…ridiculous turn,” you peer to see that the two men avoid your gaze at the nuanced mention. “Nevertheless, we can put this behind us and not bring it up with anyone else. Agreed?”

The two men nod concurrently.

“And, perhaps…If the wind finds me at the right time and you two wish to work together again, I would…consider it a little more lenient the next time.” Maybe you shouldn’t have said that because now you can barely look at the two huntsmen in the eyes. For crying out loud, you’ve seen each other naked; how can you ever work with each other again after such unprofessional circumstances?

But you guess they don’t seem to find a problem with it, seeing as they both share a smile at you. “Thank you, sorceress.” The older male speaks for both of them. “We hope to see you again when requiring your assistance.”

The younger hunter nods with soft brown eyes. “It would be wise to lend you a helping hand just as our former leader did for you.”

And for the second time today, a tiny smile returns to curling your lips before you straighten yourself up.

“Well, until then, what should we do with you, Gojo Satoru?”

Although the expressions of thanks and appreciation served as a pleasant stratum to begin the day, a conflict still needed to be solved. That is why the three of you walked inside, deep into the demon hunter’s guild, past the many hunters who watched you make your way to the hall at the back of the building. Many rooms are stationed to the right side, yet only one harbors a recognizable aura for you to trot in front of and open the door when no one is looking.

Lo and behold, the sole being in this cell-like room is Gojo Satoru, the ghoul sitting on the dirty ground with chains restricting his feet and wrists. Talismans with small writing decorated his biceps, shoulders, and abdomen, the mark of your subjugation as his power isn’t as high as before. It is positioned at a level where it occasionally bursts until it returns to a low steady.

“You tell me, witch,” the demon answers your question. “We’ve had this dance a million times already, sending me back to the demon realm and supposedly ‘promising’ not to come back.”

“Well, you are being sent back this time,” Nanami crosses his arms. “Yet instead of ‘supposedly,’ we’re going to have to make that a definitive.”

Gojo cackles, bearing his canines to shine. “Oh, bullshit. Me staying in the realm ‘forever’ forever when I’m aware that half of my Limitless has been stripped from my possession? Don’t you know you should never touch what belongs to a demon; whatever is taken from me might be taken from you tenfold.”

“That’s why there are demon hunters in the first place,” Higuruma sighs and slumps on the door surface. “Your powers were taken under contract after the carnage you caused last time. Judging by how we handle you this time, you might lose the other half of your Limitless.”

“This has nothing to do with you, big-nose.” Gojo retorts. “If I weren’t chained up right now, you’d be the first to jump at.”

The hunter raises a brow. “Is that a threat?”

“Perhaps. Although…” devilish lips curl to a smirk. “After what happened last night, maybe I’ll have some fun with you and Nanamin one of these days if—“

“Satoru.” You cut him off, the conversation steering to where it’s not supposed to go. Higuruma takes the white-haired spirit’s words for thought and stands up straight with more alertness, his blonde subordinate fixing his glare on the same. “If it weren’t for your status and relations with this realm, your fate would’ve been handled differently. Be thankful that it was me and the hunter guild who had to deal with you this time; anyone else would have your head on a spike and your body torched.”

“Awww, what caring babysitters you guys are~,” Six blue eyes roll in one direction with a click of their teeth. “Oi, witch, you know it doesn’t matter what you do with me. I could be thrown off the grid, shackled to the demon realm, held in some dark supernatural prison, or even killed — no matter what, as long as you’re the holder of half my powers, I will find you. And I don’t care if it means ripping your pretty face to shred; I’m getting my Limitless and Infinity back.” Eyes gleam with a fury, like ocean waves in a wayward thunderstorm. “Believe that.”

“I do believe it. And I will wait for the day you learn to find me, not vice versa.”You take his threat with earnestness. “However, until that day comes, I will reprimand you for this case. Along with the help of an old friend of ours.”

He sucks his teeth. “And who would that be?”

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!!

Gojo’s ears perked before the harsh bangs were put on the wooden door. You pan to Higuruma, who nods silently before he turns to unlock the locks and grip the handle. With the pull, a silhouette befalls into a vision of all four occupants in the room. A tall, muscular man who appears to be in his forties minimum, head-shaven except for the spiky top, adorning a wolf pet over his shoulders with leather slashes. Gojo’s six eyes widen when he sees the man’s face: the familiar thick eyebrows sitting above minor yet dominant eyes and a mustache and goatee adorned on the chin.

“W-Well, hello there, Yagaaa~,” the snow-haired being switches his demeanor to a chipper tune now that a new visitor has come to pay a visit. “What a lovely surprise to see you! You clean up nicely. Is that a ring I see on your finger—“

“Gojo Satoru.” A guttural voice puts a stop to the ramble. “Last time I saw you, I put you in a chokehold that had you screaming for your mama and promised I’d put you in another worse than that the next time I see you.”

You can sense the demon’s aura dwindle like a tiny flame, and you can’t help but find amusement; no one better to put the ghoul back into his place than Masamichi Yaga, the seasoned, skillful, and former commander of the demon guild. “Is…today the day?”

“Hmph.” The older man pulls up a chair to sit in front of Gojo. “Possibly, yet the sorceress pleaded for your case and told me to withhold until after our discussion.”

“Oh, how sweet of you, Miss Sorceress!” Now he wants to shower you with affection; whatever happened to that threat he made a minute ago? “That’s nice to know because I have a lot I would like to get off my chest before you sta—BHROOOF!!” Gojo’s cut off from a swift kick to the chin Yaga inflicts, causing him to fly to hit his head on the wall and fall to his back. “OWWWW?!!!??!!! What was that for?!”

“For bringing me out of my retirement,” Yaga cracks his neck with a heavy sigh. “You little bastard.”

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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