#Kinda love this AU. The Implications | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweetinsaniiity · 3 days ago

Text

Makeshift Chemistry

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - obsessive!mafia!Seonghwa x fem!reader◄ ► 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎/𝙰𝚄 - mafia au, yandere trope, power imbalance, suspense, thriller, crime, Seonghwa is extremely !obsessed and !possessive, dark romance, depictions of Seonghwa's slow descend to madness, so he's kinda !psychotic, true insanity (like, I made him pretty mentally deranged here), kidnapping, imprisonment, escape from captivity, toxic form of love, emotional and mental torment, restraint (via handcuffs), forced love, angst, plot twist (stay away from the comments to avoid spoilers!) ◄ ► 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - PG-18+ so MDNI!!!, murder and extreme violence (semi-graphic) but not towards reader, drugged (non-graphic), consensual-hate sex, dom!Hwa, but whiny!Hwa, mommy kink, hard-fast-rough, standing sex, handjob, degradation, gunplay, fear play, oral, cum eating, missionary, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms (on Seonghwa's end), multiple creampies, baby trapping implications, no protection (DO NOT DO THIS!!!!), just super kinky lol◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 28.7K words (this had to be this long sorry) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - You loved Park Seonghwa, until you found out that he was a Mafia Lord, and you didn't want to get involved, so you left him. But Seonghwa wasn't going to let you go that easily, because his unhealthy obsession with you knew no bounds. Soon enough, this obsession is marked by violence and manipulation when he kidnaps and imprisons you just so you could love him back. You barely escape with your life, but what about the feelings in your heart that were trapping you? How were you supposed to love Seonghwa when he’s slowly losing his mind and sanity in the guise of loving you too much? ◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - PLEASE READ AT YOUR DISCRETION. There will be extreme instances of how mental instability affects love, and Y/N isn't clean. Do not read if you're uncomfortable, it's not mandatory even if you enjoy my work. Prioritize your mental stability, and I'll see you in my next work. If you do choose to read it, enjoy! Fic inspired by Chappell Roan's Coffee.◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @0rangemilk @ginger-mingi @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos @juicy-red @cheolliehugs @sunnysidesins @jjongbearshoney @midnightrebel1028 @xomakara @lovetaroandtaemin◄

‘Coffee?' -Park Seonghwa

You bit your lip apprehensively, the phone in your hands almost slipping with how lax your grip on it had become. What was once your lifeline to the world - the window to what was beyond your walls - was now the bane of your existence.

A loud shrill cuts you off of your thoughts. The phone was now ringing. You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound, and in a panic, you unwittingly pressed the red button.

"Fuck," you hissed, not fully intending to reject the call. Well, not entirely, anyway. You didn't mean to immediately do it, your nerves always failed you at the last minute.

You were back to biting your bottom lip, but this time, you bit on them with twice the anxiety and twice the strength since they were actively bleeding out in between your teeth. You jumped out once more when your phone dinged.

‘Do not ignore me. Get dressed. We’re getting coffee.’ -Park Seonghwa

Ignoring his incessant calls and messages shouldn't have been this difficult and stressful. You could feel your sanity slowly slipping away from you every single time you'd leave another text from Seonghwa unanswered.

This prick, you thought, gritting your teeth so hard, the grating sound of it made your head hurt. You haphazardly threw your phone on your desk, not caring if it gets smashed or not. It would be better if it did, honestly. That way, you’d have no contact with him left, and his control over you would vanish.

And in that way, you wouldn’t be tempted to see him over and over again.

It wasn’t a fault of his own sometimes. There was always this urge in you to see how he was, what he’s doing, and if he was the same man you left a couple of months ago.

You bit your lip, looking down on your outfit. It was a simple white button-up shirt, some jeans, and a pair of heels. It wasn’t a choice of yours, either; Seonghwa loved elegance. He would make you change, anyway, and waste your time.

You’ll meet up with him one more time, and tell him that it would be the last time. You’ll meet up with him one more time, and tell yourself that it would be the last time.

The cafe was empty when you got there, unsurprisingly. You scoffed as you sat down, it was such a Seonghwa thing to do. A barista even escorted you to your seat, it was slightly embarrassing. This was a cafe, for God’s sake, not a fine dining restaurant. You shook your head as you knew this was one of his games. He loved seeing you embarrass yourself, especially since he was the one embarrassing you because even in that aspect, he wanted control over you.

God forbid someone else did it for you, however. They’d be dead by deadlight. You swallowed those thoughts away, they weren’t metaphorical at all.

Seconds passed by, minutes ticked by, and almost an hour into arriving, Seonghwa still hadn’t shown himself. You gave the poor barista a nervous smile of your own, but inside, you were seething. You tentatively looked outside from the glass walls, you knew he was here. You could feel it.

And yet, he was nowhere to be seen at the same time. You began to feel uncomfortable, tugging at your collar, playing with your nails, sighing every five minutes, the likes. But the worst part of it was that you knew he was enjoying this. He got off on your discomfort.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he was hiding in plain sight, his eyes never leaving yours as he savoured all the most miniscule of your expressions that told him exactly what you were thinking without him even opening his mouth to ask you.

Just as you were about to stand up and leave, the door opened, a light trinkle resounding from the charm attached on top of it to signify someone’s entrance. He did this all the time - reel you back in when you’re about to pull away. You hated it, mostly because you let him treat you like this.

Two men entered first, both of which you are very familiar with. They greeted you with a subtle nod of their head, avoiding eye contact, before choosing to sit in the farthest part of the quaint café.

And there he was in all his majestic glory. His strides were sure, eyes trained on you like a hawk, pausing to tilt his head at you as if he was examining you, but you knew better - he was challenging you to move.

That was how Park Seonghwa - he demanded attention. The way he would swallow the entire room with just his shadow, alone, never failed to stun you into silence. He was a siren’s song, beckoning anyone around him to look and listen with just one word from his mouth. Hell, most of the time, he didn’t even have to say anything.

But the siren’s song was just that; a siren. A subtle smirk graces upon his lips, and the next thing you knew, he was making his way to you. You watched his hands pull the chair in front of you, those sinful hands once held you, bought you comfort as they caressed you. Now, all they did was strangle you into suffocating, squeezing your soul, stealing your essence drop by drop.

“I don’t think meeting out here is wise, Mr. Park,” you said, cutting straight to the point. It was more so for yourself, the longer you stayed with him, the weaker your resolve gets.

You refused to break eye contact with him, and perhaps, that was the worst part of all of this. He was still breathtaking. That face once made you kneel, and it still can.

“Seonghwa, my love,” he corrected, tutting at you like he was endearingly scolding you. It made you sick. “You know my name, why won’t you say it?”

You bit your lip as you weighed your options down. There was always that choice to disobey him, it wasn’t difficult, but the mafia lord had never made anything easy for you. “I don’t think meeting out here is wise, Seonghwa.”

You watched as his bottom lip quivered, the way he attempted to hold his grin was nothing new to you. He loved it when you played his little games, he was more than pleased with it. Seonghwa raised his hand, snapping it to signal the nervous barista who was just waiting.

“Nothing has ever been wiser,” he replied, staring the barista down as they shakily placed Seonghwa’s coffee in front of him as well as yours, except that you got a strawberry shortcake on the side, your favourite.

You didn’t have any appetite, and he knew it, you never did every time you went out to meet him, yet he didn’t care. You mustered up the courage to ask him, anyway. “What is it that you want, Seonghwa?”

He watched you push your plate away with a small frown on his lips. “Why aren’t you wearing the ring I gave you?” Seonghwa questioned, ignoring yours.

“Why should I? I’m not yours,” you took a deep breath, whispering your next words. “Not anymore, at least.”

“Nonsense,” he brushed off, pausing to take a sip from his cup before looking you dead in the eye. “You were always mine. You just don’t want to accept it.”

Indeed, he was a siren. He never stopped until the words he sang rang true even though you both knew it wasn’t the case. Seonghwa was once your siren, and now you regret ever being enthralled by his songs.

“I want to see you wearing it the next time we go out,” he declared, referring to the ring. He paused, a thought crossing his mind. “Do you not like it, though? Is that why? Would you like me to get another one?”

You tried not to flinch when he held your hand, lifting it to give it a small kiss. It burned, yet you couldn’t pull away. “Such delicate fingers,” he chuckled. “No jewelry can compare to its beauty, my dove.”

“Seonghwa,” you sighed tiredly, pulling away. His words still affect you, it was hard not to let them get to you, but it has to stop.

“It’s fine,” he interjected. He poked his tongue on his inner cheek, displeased at how averse you were to his touch. “No spherical metal will bind you to me. We both know you’re mine, anyway.”

You sighed once more, this time, with a tremble. “There will be no next time,” you mumbled, clearing your throat from the nerves clogging it. “I came here to tell you that I-I can’t do this anymore with you, we have to stop meeting so we could both move on…”

It was the most difficult thing you had to say, minus when you told him you were leaving him, but you had to for your own sake. He didn’t say anything, his face had no emotion, except for his twitching left eye. You gulped, that was not a good sign. He did not like that at all.

No words were said for a while. You almost broke down and took it back, but no, it was better to end this now than suffer the consequences later, because you might not end up leaving him at all.

“It’s funny,” he began, voice leveled and calm. They were too calm. “Most people give out everything and anything just to have a five minute conversation with me.”

He took another sip of coffee, his long tongue darting out from his mouth slowly swiping his upper teeth as he looked on. “But you,” he continued. “You push me away when I make a point to crawl down to you unlike the others who have to climb up to me. You are a tough nut to crack, Y/N.”

You gripped the table in front of you, your knuckles pale and white. Anger rolled off of him like waves and for a second, you were terrified that he was going to explode on the spot. The way he uttered your name was a threat in itself. He sets the cup down without a sound, letting out a small chuckle.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Seonghwa asked softly, all traces of anger gone from his tone. “Here, dove.”

You shut your eyes tight. His change in attitude scared you out of anything he has ever done, and Seonghwa was a violent man. Not towards you, never towards you, but he was a destructive person to be with. He was a psychopath.

“I-I don’t want to eat, I’m good,” you squeaked, shaking your head when he took a piece of the cake and tried to push the fork into your mouth to feed you.

“Come on, doveling, eat this. It’s very yummy,” he gently coaxed, pushing the fork slightly until it was touching your lips. “Say ah, baby, I’ll feed you,” he smiled.

It was a sweet gesture, and if the situation was different, you would’ve cooed at how cute Seonghwa looked. In your peripheral vision, even his bodyguards looked appalled at their mafia lord’s gesture. Seonghwa ruled everything, he owned this city, and everybody licked the soles of his shoes and worshiped the ground he walked on.

But here he was, feeding you with cake.

You turned your head again like a petulant child, refusing to eat anything that came from his hands. “I really don’t want to.”

He frowned. You watched as his hand started to shake, but you knew it wasn’t because he was tired of holding the fork up. “One bite? I know you’ll like it.”

“No, please—-“

“Open your fucking mouth.”

There it was. The way he demanded was anything but, his eyes were half-lidded with malice, the monotonous tone in which he spoke terrifying you more than if he raised his voice or grabbed your hair to force the cake down on your throat. His despondent stare penetrated through you, combusting your insides on the spot with how fiery it was. He was angry, you made him angry. Seonghwa cannot be angry.

You gulped, parting your lips slightly. It was all it took for him to forcefully part them with the fork and roughly shoved the cake in your mouth. You choked when the tip of the fork almost hit the back of your throat, coughing a bit before you decided to swallow. Tears collected on the sides of your eyes, but you forced yourself to smile and nod at him.

“You’re right,” you coughed again. “I-It’s yummy.”

His arm retracted, his eyes not once leaving your trembling form. “One more,” he ordered, tone clipped. It had a veil of threat looming over the words as they left his tongue.

You flinched when he cut another piece, the clank of the fork when it hit the plate, echoing in your head. It was reminiscent of what you hear in your head before Seonghwa’s patience snapped. He was a time-bomb; you never knew what made him tick, but you knew that he was destined to explode somehow.

He grabbed a napkin then wiped the sides of your lips. “You should be more careful, dove,” he chided, voice lowered, clouded with sinister intent. “Wouldn’t want you messy now, would we?”

You quickly shook your head in response. “That’s a good girl,” he smiled, his words kind and gentle as if nothing had happened, but you knew better. He lies through his teeth.

If you didn’t love him, it would have been fine.

The sigh that escaped his deceitful lips was long and slow as if his brain needed to process what just happened. The screeching sound of his chair hit your ears, and he was sitting beside you before you knew it.

“I sincerely apologize, doveling,” he whispered, his voice breaking and cracking halfway. He lifted a hand to touch you, only for the same hand to fall back down neatly on his lap. “I-I just missed you a lot.”

You felt your heart split in half inside your chest, you didn’t want him anymore, but it didn’t mean you liked seeing him like this. However, deep in your gut, you knew that something was inherently wrong. You just didn’t know what.

“Think about what I said, please,” you appealed, scooting your behind away from him to create a gap between the two of you. For a split second, his lip twitches.

He looks up at you, hurt coating his entire features. “I implore you to think about it. I don’t want to completely lose you,” he pleaded. He jutted his lips out, doing everything he can for you to look at him with pity.

You were weak. You were a weak, weak person. Seonghwa pulled you to him, enveloping his arms all over your form as your chin laid on top of his shoulder to hug him back. To your left, was the glass panel that separated the cafe from the outside. It reflected both you and Seonghwa’s embrace.

The hug looked serene, intimate, to the unassuming eye. Your heart dropped to your feet as you watched Seonghwa’s expression morph from loving, apologetic, and sincere, to something that can only be described as demonic and corrupted. His eyes grew wide with madness, rolling at the back of his head as he tried not to crush in his arms then and there, his lips stretched towards his ears like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“Are you going to force me to forgive you?” You asked, tears falling from your eyes before you could stop them. “Are you going to take me?”

He smirked, still looking forward, not knowing that you could see his expressions. “No, well, I could,” he whispered, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from cackling out loud at your stupidity. “But I won’t.”

You were a fool to believe that he would actually be sincere for once. This was his true colour. “You know me well enough where you know what my answer would be, and it’s no.”

It was terrifying how his expressions could change in the blink of an eye. His eyes slowly lost that mirth and instead dropped into the most dangerous glare, “So it seems,” he monotoned, grinding his teeth. “I won’t take you for myself by force, not until you want me to.”

Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.

You need to get out of here. “And what if I never want you to? Tell me,” you breathed out.

Your heart leapt out of your chest when his eyes met yours through the reflection of the glass, the grin on his face expanding malevolently. He pulled away, making a point to demean you further by tapping your cheek.

“And so my manipulation tactics begin,” he smirked, his sharp jawline finding rest above his slender fingers. “Though I don’t think I have to make much effort, you seem to be doing most of the work for me, dove.”

It was true, he got you there. You didn’t have to show up, you didn’t have to answer to his every beck and call, and you didn’t have to stay and wait for him when he humiliated you earlier, but you were still here. Seonghwa wasn’t pointing a gun to your head.

Not yet, at least.

“You’re mine,” Seonghwa murmured. “The sooner you accept that, the sooner you’d feel better.”

“But for now,” he stood up, all the grace and elegance in his body oozing out of him. He moved so regal, you had no idea why he even liked you. He offers his hand out. “You should go home. I reckon this meeting took a toll on you.”

You refused his hand and he scoffed, and just like that, he left. Completely alone to your thoughts now, you couldn’t help but breathe out the air you didn’t realize you were holding.

It was that tense, things with Seonghwa were always very intense. He always invoked emotions out of you that you always kept buried inside you, yet you always came back for more. Again, the fault wasn’t fully his own.

You were the one who left him, yet you couldn’t fully leave him.

As usual, that night was spent with you just thinking about all the things that could’ve been with him. In the end, you weren’t strong enough to tell him that enough was enough with all these games you played with each other.

He resented you, you knew as much. Seonghwa was a very, very vindictive person - he wasn’t the type to ever let go once crossed. You just never thought that the day would come when all that resentment was directed towards you because he was playing with you, that you knew as much.

It took another two weeks before he contacted you again, and this time, he called you directly. You stared at the number on your phone. You had deleted his number, but that was pretty pointless because you memorized it by heart, anyway. “Hello?”

“Hello, love,” you could hear the smirk in his cocky tone. “Care to have another coffee with me?”

The automatic response you had in your head was, of course, no. Seonghwa was an asshole; he was manipulative, and he was arguably the most toxic person you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, but goddamn, does your heart always pull you towards him even when you try very hard to guard it. “I don’t know,” you told him truthfully in the end even though his voice broke down your walls bit by bit. “I told you that we have to stop doing this, aren’t you sick of it?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “You’re right,” he mumbled, surprising you with how genuinely amiable he sounded. “Coffee is overrated. Let’s go to dinner, instead. How about that Italian place downtown?”

You didn’t have high expectations, in fact, you had zero expectations, but you weren’t expecting that at all. “S-Seonghwa,” you sputtered. “T-That’s not what I mean.” “I know,” he chuckled. If you didn’t know him, it would sound like he was genuinely amused by this, but no. It already had a dark undertone to it. “So how about it, love dove? That or we hit the bar next to it, instead. Pick your poison because I’m not asking for your permission.”

It was your turn to stay silent. The last place you wanted to go to was the Italian restaurant. Why?

Because it was where you met Seonghwa - the end of your beginning and the beginning of your end.

“Let’s just do coffee, then. Just like you originally wanted,” you murmured in submission, but he was not pleased with your response.

“That ship has sailed when you couldn’t make up your damn mind,” he said. “The bar, then—”

“N-No! I mean, no, please,” you denied, a bit more defensive than what you would’ve liked to sound. “Dinner, Seonghwa, please, I’ll go to dinner with you…”

“Splendid, I’ll pick you up in an hour,” he agreed. “Why are you avoiding the bar?”

“Because we know where that leads,” you lamented, your voice almost desperate and pleading. “I’ll see you.”

You sighed, hanging up the phone and not bothering to hear what he had to say. You were pretty much terrified of going to the bar with Seonghwa, because then he’ll get you a drink, and that would always lead you in his arms.

The hour was a blur. A year prior, it was your favourite part of the day - getting ready and dolled up for the love of your life, but now, you just wanted to get everything over with.

You’d also be excited for the car ride, but now, it was just so awkward to be in the car with Seonghwa. Neither of you talked, nor were you interested to spark up a conversation to begin with. The only time you did was when he asked you to hold onto him as you made your way inside the restaurant.

It was impossibly lavish, as expected of Seonghwa’s finer taste in life. It wasn’t for the regular everyday people since everywhere you looked dripped in money, both clean and dirty. However, all this elegance felt oppressive to you

Seonghwa sat across you, his presence filling the entire space. You cowered at his stare, focusing on the food that was being laid out in front of you. His stare never left you even when the waiter asked if their services were still needed. You could feel your hands gripping the stem of the complimentary champagne flute.

Suddenly, he started to laugh softly. You tilted your head to look at him curiously. “You’re very stubborn, dove,” he shook his head. “It would be endearing if I didn’t want to strangle it out of you sometimes.”

Against your better judgment, you took a huge swig out of the champagne, letting the sweetness of it coat your throat. Lord knows you needed a lot of them if you were about to spend time with Seonghwa. “Unluckily for you, I’m not looking for you to change my mind. I’m happy being independent right now.”

It wasn’t the entire truth. You wanted nothing but to lay in his arms like you used to and let him whisper all the sweet nothings in your ear. You grabbed the wine bottle from the ice bucket that was placed near you and poured a hefty amount on its respective wine glass.

In your peripheral vision, it wasn’t hard to see Seonghwa’s irritation - he wasn’t used to being met with resistance - but even he raised a brow at how much red wine you were planning to drink. He smirked, looks like he didn’t need the bar, after all.

But his smirk dropped when he realized that you had already finished a whole glass and you were on your way to another one. “Alright, that’s enough,” he snatched the glass from you, drinking the whole thing in one go. “I’m not a good person, but don’t insult me like this. I have standards, I don’t want you face-planting on the floor.”

You blinked, the alcohol in your system already hitting you head-on in a possible collision that will be difficult to recover. You couldn’t look away from Seonghwa, and for once, maybe you just wanted to let go and be happy. “Do you want to know why I don’t want to go to a bar, specifically?”

He looked at you expectantly. “It was pointless since I got this,” you giggled, holding up the wine bottle, which was already halfway empty. The glasses were massive, and you were lightweight. “Because we’ll have a drink together, and then you’ll say you want me and that you’re sorry,” you hiccupped. “I know it’ll be a lie.”

He stood up, rendering you speechless. Whether it was from all the stress culminating inside you or his audacity, you didn’t know. He offered a hand to you. “Come,” Seonghwa softly commanded.

You finally looked up at him, confused. “W-Where?”

“Home, you silly goose,” he chuckled. He raised a brow when it still didn’t click. “I’m taking you home, little dove.”

Alarm bells started to ring in your head. You were about to shake your head when he stopped you. “I meant your…apartment,” he spat the word with such venom. “I do not approve of it since we have our old house, but I’ll play along for now. Come along before I change my mind.”

It was how you found yourself back in Seonghwa’s car, the food long forgotten, your mind buzzing. You sighed, staring out through the window, just gazing upon the passing distance. A scoff was tickling behind your throat, this was one of those instances where you actually had no choice. Whatever Seonghwa says, goes.

However, contrary to what he was thinking, you weren’t necessarily afraid of him just snatching you up and forcing you to be with him, not today at least, but you were concerned about something else - something else entirely intimate.

When he insisted that he walk you up to your door, you couldn’t refute it. How could you when he was already walking at the apartment entrance ahead of you as if he knew where he was going?

Little did you know that he actually did. You blanched when he situated himself in front of your door. “Seonghwa,” you gulped, your hands shaking as you tried to open the door. “H-How did you know it was this door?”

When you left him, you tried everything you could to erase his track. It was almost impossible since the mafia owns the entire region, and you couldn’t go far since you had no money. You knew that he knew where you lived but you at least thought that you were safe since you thought you had the upper hand. You cursed under your breath, you shouldn’t have put his obsession with you past him.

He snatched the keys from your hands, taking the liberty to unlock the door, himself, but when he was about to push it so he could walk in, you quickly held on to his arm tightly.

“It’s late,” you reasoned out, heart pounding in your chest. This. This was what you were afraid of. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

He rolled his eyes, taking the keys out from the keyhole and tossing them to you. “Is this the way you treat your guests, love?” Seonghwa scoffed, crossing his arms. He sneered. “I thought I taught you better than that.”

You fisted your hands so tightly, your nails left deep indents on your palms. “You made me entertain thieves and murderers,” you gritted your teeth, not relishing in the memory of the many times Seonghwa would make you sit on his lap while he planned his operations in front of the other mafia leaders.

“Hoshposh, little one, I would’ve shot anybody who looked at you wrong straight to the head,” he said. “Seriously, though, I’m quite thirsty.”

He pulled on his sleeves slightly and set his eyes on the luxurious watch that was wrapped on his wrist. “A glass of water would be great, then I’ll be on my way.”

You frowned, hesitation rolling off of you in waves. Of course, you didn’t want to let Seonghwa in your apartment, but you weren’t exactly heartless. You bit your lip, the sting of it snapping you out of the lies swirling in your own head. Heartlessness had nothing to do with it.

You looked up at Seonghwa, heat pooling in your lower tummy, regret churning above it. You opened the door wide, resigning to your desires, leaving the remorse for tomorrow.

Seonghwa smirked, closing the door behind him before pulling you by the arm, his lips smashing against yours in a heated fervor. Kissing him back wasn’t lost on you, this was what he was truly thirsty for, after all - you.

And the worst of it all, you’d let him drink on no matter how much your head told you ‘no’. Seonghwa wasn’t someone who you could deny, because you can’t.

The point was to meet him for coffee, his usual excuse, and only for coffee, but alas, nowhere else is safe because every place always led back to him.

A low, breathy moan escapes your throat as he lifts you up in the air, quickly wrapping your legs around his torso. His lips found salvation on your neck and jawline, planting sweet kisses on your skin that set them on fire with every touch.

“I missed you,” he groaned against your chest as he laid you down on your bed and loomed on top of you, trapping you in between his arms. “God, I fucking missed you, dove…”

Of all the things he’s said tonight, you knew this to be the one where he wasn’t telling lies. You couldn’t even complain when he tore your top to shreds in his impatience to have it off, your bra stood no chance either. A wanton moan slips out of you when he grabs the small dagger that he always kept and cuts it off from the middle, the cool metal tip sending shivers all over your skin.

“S-Seonghwa,” you mewled when his lips wrapped themselves on your puckered nipples, his tongue swirling all over it, leaving trails of spit that you always found incredibly erotic.

He wasted no time taking the rest of his clothes off along with yours until there was no barrier left between the two of you and the hot surface of Seonghwa’s skin seared in contact with yours. You wanted this more than anything, and it was why you were terrified of letting him in.

“How do you want it?” Seonghwa placed a tender kiss on the area below your ear, tickling you, making your cunt clamp down on his invading fingers as he massaged that sweet spot inside you. “How do you want me to fuck you?”

It was when you looked up at him that had your mind completely reeling. No, you never really doubted that he loved you, but sometimes, love simply wasn’t enough.

And in Seonghwa’s case, he was offering a little too much. And too much of anything never did anybody favours.

When you raised your hand to cup his face, he didn’t hesitate to close his eyes and kiss your palm. There were no words that needed to be said.

That night, as you were curled up on Seonghwa’s naked chest when things were said and done, it was the first time you wished that things were different. You wished you were strong enough to stop loving this man, but that was impossible because you knew he would never stop chasing you until all that were left of him were bones and ashes.

And when you woke the next day to a completely empty bed, tears cascading down towards your pillows as you stared at the empty space. You could still feel the ghost of his lips on your forehead, the reluctance to leave clear in the gesture. But he had to, you’d kick him out, anyway.

However, it wasn’t out of a broken heart - it was relief. Pure, unadulterated relief that he was gone.

Leaving Seonghwa a couple of months before you moved back to your current place was simply the hardest thing you had to do. It wasn’t a decision that you mustered up out of thin air, it was days - months - of decision-making that either broke your heart or killed you.

You carefully adjusted your dress, shimmying your hips to make sure you weren’t exposed. You slipped among the crowd, squeezing your body in between the drunken state of the people on the dance floor as you made a beeline straight to the bar.

Clubbing became a part of your routine. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism to remind you that before Seonghwa, you were your own person. A drink or two later, your hands were in the air, your inhibitions lowering at the quick shot of adrenaline the alcohol provided you.

But it could only do so much. You sat at the corner of the club, just staring into the crowd. Melancholy seeped in your heart, it was pathetic that you had to go to places like these to get that cheap thrill of forgetting Seonghwa for a moment, only for his face to haunt you the moment you stepped out.

You swallowed the nostalgia that threatened to embrace you. When you closed your eyes, you could still picture the moment when you met Seonghwa for the first time. It was last year, you were so naive back then.

Or maybe not. He was just good at hiding his true colours.

A heavy sigh left your lips, your head nodding in resignation at the realization that your date had just ditched you.

Embarrassment clawed in your chest as you curled in on yourself at your seat, your fingers fiddling with the straps of the dress you’d carefully picked out for tonight uncomfortably. It was a waste since you had nobody to show up for it.

“You shouldn’t waste your tears on this beautiful night, pretty dove.”

Surprise covers your features. You hadn’t realized that you were crying. You feel somebody from behind you, probably another patron of the restaurant. You were even more embarrassed that someone has seen you get emotional.

“T-Thank you, kind Sir,” you politely accepted the handkerchief he offered you, dabbing your tears with it. “I’m afraid I soiled what’s yours…”

You were caught off guard when you glanced at its owner. He was hauntingly beautiful. His features were so forward and defined, and yet, there was a type of softness to it that reminded you of a gentle lamb.

”Do not fret, I have more where that came from,” he chuckled.

“Ah,” you trailed off. “I will replace it for you soon.”

He smiled, his face transforming into something even more breathtaking. A blush creeps onto your cheeks.

”Might I be presumptuous to ask for something else in return? I don’t need it back,” he pointed to the kerchief.

You blinked, waiting for his response. He gestured to the empty chair in front of you. “I’d like to accompany you for tonight, if that’s alright,” he said.

Your brows shot up in surprise. You supposed that the universe hasn’t completely abandoned you. You nodded, gesturing towards the chair. You had absolutely nothing to lose.

“O-Of course. I’d be honoured,” you cleared your throat, gazing at him expectantly as he helped himself. “I’m Y/N.”

He gracefully extends his hand to capture yours, a subtle smirk plastered on his face. “Park Seonghwa.”

He was the best thing that ever happened to you. Seonghwa took you to multiple dates after that, taking you to places he said you deserved to be taken to, experiencing things you’ve never done before, and just spending time with him in general.

The next thing you knew, you were falling in love with him, and you were falling hard and fast. Luckily for you, Seonghwa was, too.

You bit your lips, remembering the way his glimmering eyes that reminded you of a baby doe as he stared at you with all the love he could muster in those beautiful eyes. The Seonghwa you knew was kind and gentle, he could never hurt a fly.

”Excuse me?”

The bartender you got your drinks from earlier interrupts your thoughts. They had a tray with a single drink. It was a daiquiri. You frowned, shaking your head towards them. “I haven’t ordered anything.”

They proceeded to shake their head at you, instead. “It’s from that guy over there,” they pointed at a table a couple of metres away from you.

As they placed the cocktail right in front of you, you took the liberty of inspecting the man that had the audacity to assume that you were lonely. A year back, you would’ve been flattered, but this reminded you of the way Seonghwa approached you for the first time in that restaurant.

Your sweet, sweet boy. Or so you thought.

“Can you please return it? I’m not interested,” you pushed the drink back, much to the bartender’s chagrin and hesitation.

Your heart felt like a knife was being stabbed into it. You couldn’t go through this again.

Something changed along with your relationship. Seonghwa was the most patient man you knew. He was the type to cook breakfast in bed for you, tuck you in and give you a goodnight kiss for absolutely no reason. Seonghwa would hold you in his arms, cuddling with you for hours, just laughing along with your corny jokes even though they weren’t funny.

”Whenever you’re sad, just look at the stars for me,” Seonghwa would say. He would give your forehead a tender kiss as he would whisper. “You are my forever star, Y/N. I want the stars to be a witness to our eternal love.”

The club started to feel suffocating for you. Standing up, your wobbling legs took you to the restroom. You didn’t even spare a second glance on the daiquiri that you had purposefully left behind.

Luckily, the restroom was empty. You splashed cold water on your face, hoping it would wake you up and knock some sense into you. This was a mistake, you thought, your hands gripping the marbled sink. You were a mess.

Your feelings for Seonghwa were a mess. He started to change slowly. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but you knew him. He started getting angry fast, he had random bouts of periods where he would disappear, he’d come home with bruises on his face. He would cover it with makeup, but they’d still peek through.

When he told you he was in the mafia was a breaking point for you. You immediately left him after because you didn’t want to involve yourself in that lifestyle.

”My love, please,” Seonghwa begged at that time, tears falling from his beautiful eyes as he held your arm back weakly from leaving the house with your luggages. “P-Please, don’t go, I-I don’t think I can live without you, please.”

You couldn’t believe it back then, that your sweet Seonghwa was pleading for you to keep your love alive while his heart shattered with the weight of your decision in his chest. It pained you to see the love of your life losing it like this, but you had no choice. You wanted a normal life, you wanted to live your life safely, and Seonghwa being in the mafia can’t provide that for you.

It pained you to remember how Seonghwa desperately kneeled on the floor, crawling forward on his knees, broken, his eyes wild with fear. “Y/N, I am begging you,” Seonghwa’s voice cracked back then, struggling to breathe as tears spilled down his face. “I need you, dove, I can’t go on without you…”

His chest heaved with sobs he couldn’t control. “Don’t leave me, please. I don’t care what I have to do, dove, I-I can’t lose you, y-you’re everything to me. Please, don’t go.”

Sometimes, love just wasn’t worth it. You swallowed the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes, and you powered through, turning your back on him for the last time as his fiance, pulling on your luggages to leave him for good. It was difficult to ignore the guttural cries that left his lips as he screamed his lungs out for you to come back to him, but you had to go.

The little coffee breaks he’d ask of you were your little reprieve. Call it a guilty conscience for breaking his heart.

But the truth was, you still loved him just the same, if not more. God, you still loved him.

Something had changed, though. During the months you were apart, he became maddened - more unhinged, to say the least. He scared you most of the time, it strengthened your cause of leaving because it was a side of him you’ve never seen before. He wasn’t the person you loved, not anymore.

Your Seonghwa was mellow and gentle. Whoever this maniac was, this psycho, you didn’t know who.

The bathroom doors opened with a bang, the rickety wooden structure hitting the walls that shook the entire expanse from where you stood. Danger signals spiked fear in you, instead of the usual women who belonged in the restroom, two wannabe thugs entered and set their eyes on you.

One of them gave you a gnarly grin. You squinted your eyes, you knew of them. Disgust curls on your lips at the sight of the two men who were at the table who sent you the overly sweet cocktail you indifferently left at the table.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you said, trying to level the situation out. Them barging in meant no good. And there was no one to save you. What is it with men and their inability to accept rejection?

“Who the hell do you think you are?” One of them growled audaciously, spit flying out from his filthy mouth emphasized by the dingy lighting the restroom provided. He marches towards you, pushing your arms rather roughly. You reckon it will bruise.

“Now, now, there’s no need for this,” the other one gestured for his companion to tone it down, leering as he raked his eyes from your head to your toes. His slimy tongue licks his dry lips as he slowly approaches you, or rather, stalks you like a predator.

The moment he grabs your shoulders, your instincts snapped you out. With a scream, you swiftly ran across the room towards the door, but not before giving one of them a good kick in the groin.

“You fucking bitch! Ow, fuck, wait until I get my hands on you—”

Your heart pounded heavily against your ribcage, pure adrenaline fueling you as more vile words could be heard from the distance the more you walked away. You had no care for the sweaty bodies that you had to go through, all you knew was that you had to run, and you had to run fast.

This was the only time you cursed at how small the club was. You had no idea how far you were walking away from the bathroom, but the blinding lights, the deafening music, they were starting to get to you. You were terrified that they had managed to follow you. You didn’t dare look back.

You had to get out of here. Luckily, you were near the back door where you could exit and get away, so that’s exactly what you did. You couldn’t even regret forgetting your jacket the moment you got out and was embraced in the bitter cold of the night.

“Once again, I don’t have to do anything. You keep running into me.”

A startled scream escapes your mouth, the loudness of your own voice scaring you. Panic surged through your bloodstream. You looked around, and there was darkness everywhere, but no matter how blinded you were, you will always find that voice.

Seonghwa was enveloped in the quiet corner of the cobblestoned alleyway. His back was leaning against the wall, his hand in his pants pocket while the other held a cigarette in between his nimble fingers. The only thing illuminating him was the faint glow of its lighted tip, its smoke swirling in the air mixed with the cold exhale of his breath.

Your breath caught into your throat. The horrifying clarity of running straight towards another danger was harrowing. Being alone with Seonghwa was far, far more dangerous than anything, however, you’d rather be in his mercy than those thugs inside.

“You just couldn’t wait to see me again, don’t you, doveling?” Seonghwa mocked, his voice almost low, and frankly, delicious to your ears.

But you weren’t in the mood for his games. “Go fuck yourself,” you hissed, gritting your teeth in annoyance.

“I’d rather fuck you,” he grinned.

His pants tightened as he stared at you clad in the tiniest dress known to mankind, his cock jumping out at a certain memory of you underneath him just the prior week before he left your sleeping form.

He could take you where you stood, right here, right now. And he would. However, when he noticed the way your hands trembled as you wrapped a protective arm all over yourself, his inhibitions died down. His brow rose when your form shook at the sudden boom of a voice from the door where you exited.

Paleness rendered you frozen. You could hear the same voice from the bathroom shouting, the sound of their voice growing closer and closer as they searched for you. Your eyes fleeted to Seonghwa once more.

He was already staring at you, his sharp, calculating eyes boring into you in realization. He poked his tongue on his inner cheeks, dropping the cigarette on the dirty floor, crushing it underneath his feet. You smiled to yourself ruefully, he was definitely different from the Seonghwa in your memory.

This was his true nature. Your sweet Seonghwa was a fraud.

The door busted open, and the same guy that held your shoulders looked around like an angry bull until he set his eyes on you. At that moment, you knew that Seonghwa understood what was happening. He stayed unmoving, unbreathing in his dark corner as the guy marched towards you.

“You,” the guy seethed, shoving you hard on the same shoulder. “You think you’re hot shit, bitch?”

You gasped when he spit at your feet, his saliva coating your slightly exposed feet due to your shoes. You inhaled, exhaled, repeating the gesture to reel in the anger you were feeling. You subtly waved your hand in Seonghwa’s direction, telling him to back the hell off and let you handle this, yourself.

“I’ll pay you for the drink, if that’s what you’re mad about,” you murmured, trying to sidestep him, but he swayed to the same direction, blocking your way. “Move,” you gritted your teeth.

He gripped your arm tight, his fingers digging into your skin in an alarming pressure where you were sure it would leave bruises. “No, no, you’re coming with me,” he pulled on your arm, causing you to lose your footing a bit.

“N-No, let go of me,” you pulled once more, forcefully this time, but his grip was loosening. Tension gripped your chest, the feeling of being cornered filling your mind with fear.

“Just come with me, you’ll have a good time,” he laughed lasciviously, his arm moving to grip your waist, until it freezes in the air.

You didn’t know whether you should feel alarmed or cry in relief when you watched Seonghwa appear from behind your captor. “Not so fast,” he said. You gulped when you saw him pull something familiar, using it to point at the man who held your arm at the back of his head.

The sound of a pistol cocking was louder than it should’ve been at the empty alleway. Your eyes widened in surprise and fear. This wasn’t supposed to be shocking to you anymore, but the sight of Seonghwa easily pulling a gun towards someone’s head never failed to instill terror in you.

“Back off, bastard,” the man snarled, though it didn’t have a real bite to it. “I saw her first, you can use this bitch when I’m done with her.”

Seonghwa hummed, leaning forward to the man’s ear, his tone dripping with unveiled threat. “Or I could plant a bullet in your head first. That sounds better to me.”

The man let out a nervous laugh, his grip on you tightening further, making you whine in slight pain. “You wouldn’t dare,” he laughed sarcastically, pushing his luck. “Not in a public place.”

Seonghwa’s eyes never left your shaking form. Your captor’s lips curled in dissatisfaction at Seonghwa’s lack of response. The thick silence in the air, yet your eyes never left Seonghwa as well.

“What else did he do to you, love?” Seonghwa’s soft voice asked after a while, though his eyes held another thing - rage.

He pushes the gun on the man’s scalp, the latter groaning in pain in response to the rough action. “Look, man. I didn’t know she was taken,” the guy defended himself. “W-We can talk about this—”

“Did he hurt you before this?” Seonghwa gave you a pointed look, impatience coating his features.

“Seonghwa, please,” you responded, voice weary and exhausted. “Let’s just—”

“Answer the question, Y/N. Did he, or did he not?”

You gulped. You hated when he used your name. “Just let him go, please, I want to go home,” you begged. You felt filthy being touched, but you didn’t want blood in your hands.

But it was too late, Seonghwa hated his properties getting defiled. He shoots the guy point blank, his eyes still never leaving yours. Shock electrifies your system, unwilling you to move even when your face splatters with blood. The grip on your arms disappears as the man’s body crumples to the ground with a sickening thud.

Seonghwa tutted, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment and disgust at the body laying down in front of him. “Pathetic fool,” he sneered, spitting violently at the corpse’s face, his foot connecting to the now-dead man’s face. “Pathetic fool.”

Another gunshot resounds in the air, and then another, and then another one, until the clicking of Seonghwa’s trigger signifies that he was out of bullets. “Well, fuck,” he murmured before his maniacal laughter fills the night. There was something primal about it, something animalistic.

You turned away, at the risk of throwing up all over the concrete floor, afraid to look at the man’s, mangled, bullet-riddled face. Your vision started to blur, like your surroundings were spinning, as your breathing became laboured and shallow. You tried to back away to try and lean on something, but your legs felt weak.

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice, little dove,” Seonghwa scoffed, side-eyeing you as he put his phone up his ear. “Get in here. I need someone to scrub the floor.”

You knew exactly what that meant. Someone was coming to get rid of Seonghwa’s crime. Your stomach churns with nausea, until you can't take it anymore. You turn around, emptying your stomach of its contents, the regurgitating, gagging sounds from your hoarse throat sickening, the smell of your own vomit making you even more sick.

The more you tried to breathe in calmly, the more out of control you felt. It was as if your body was deliberately going against you. Seonghwa never hid his brutality, but this was the first time you had witnessed it first hand.

You gasped when you were pinned against the nearby wall, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, but still making a point to look at Seonghwa. “Shut the hell up,” he hissed, wildly looking around. “We’re going to get caught if you don’t toughen up.”

You sneered, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re delusional, you monster—”

Something cold and unforgiving wrapped itself around your throat. You gasped, your hands coming up for defense to pry Seonghwa’s hand away from your neck, but all he did was squeeze, effectively cutting your air supply off. “S-Seonghwa…”

A low, throaty laugh reaches your ears before he lets go. Your body automatically lunges forward, the suffocating weight on your neck finally lifting for you to gulp in a large amount of air. Yes, Seonghwa thought, this was what he wanted. He was the only one who had rights to your pain, not some slimy bastard.

“Why do you always have to misbehave, dove?” Seonghwa grabs your face gently in his hands, leaning in to plant a firm kiss on your forehead. “It would do you a favour if you shut your trap.”

“I–I’m well-behaved, actually,” you choked out, your fingers digging on his arms for support. “You always get what you want, anyway. What was the point?”

It was the truth, and you weren’t wrong. Whether that was by determination, force, or sheer luck, Seonghwa always got what he wanted.

Footsteps began to approach, the heavy thud of boots echoing through the night. Panic seizes you at first, but when you are approached by familiar faces. Seonghwa curses under his breath, pulling you close to him to cover your scantily clad body from prying eyes.

Not that he needed to do it, anyone who looked at you wrongly would have faced his wrath, anyway.

“Clean that rubbish up,” Seonghwa ordered gruffly, pointing his gun at the corpse he further abused after taking its life. “Leave traces of it, and you’re next. Where’s the car?”

Before anyone could respond, he threw said gun in the air for someone to catch. “Dispose of this, Yunho, and dispose of it well,” he wrapped a possessive arm around you, gesturing to the tall man who stared at you in pity. “We’re leaving.”

“Boss, hold on,” another person, one that you knew to be Jongho from his voice, alone, stopped Seonghwa from walking. He raised an irritated brow in expectation. “Wouldn’t it be smarter to pin this on someone else, instead?”

You knew of Seonghwa’s brothers, the people who he led and followed him for his wisdom and criminally intelligent guise, and you liked them. Jongho drove you back to your apartment that day when you left Seonghwa, causing him to be severely punished when he came back, and Yunho provided you a crying shoulder, but sometimes, you forgot that they were just as depraved as their boss.

Seonghwa laughed, baring his teeth maliciously. “Brilliant. On with it, then.”

The car was thick with unspoken tension, at least for you, anyway. Seonghwa was as relaxed as ever as he sat with you at the back of the car; his legs were crossed gracefully, and he even held a champagne flute for him to drink as if he was celebrating a job well done.

“Are you going to get rid of me too?” You asked, filling in the awkward silence. One more second of silence and you were going to lose your mind.

“I should,” he answered. Your body twitched with the unexpected response. “Which is why you should be more thankful. Nobody gets out of Halazia alive, not without my consent.”

Halazia was their base where all the operations ensued. You wanted to scoff, were you supposed to be grateful that you weren’t killed in your sleep after you broke up with him?

“The only thing I should thank you for is absolute nothing,” you replied, your voice inhospitable and unwelcoming.

You turned away, trying to ignore him and cut the conversation, but you gasped when he grabbed your arm harshly, hissing in pain when he coincidentally dug his fingers on the spot where you were pushed by the other man in the bathroom.

“Where the hell did you get this?” Seonghwa barked, glaring at the swollen area of your arm. If it wasn’t a bruise from him, then you’re not supposed to have it. Only he can give you those.

“Get your hands off of me,” you snarled, pulling your arm away to rub on the hurting spot. You avoided eye contact with him, not willing to divulge more information. One man was already dead, you didn’t want another one in your hands. You haven’t even properly internalized what happened, it was too soon.

“I just had a nasty fall and hit something while I was running away from that creep, it’s no big deal.”

His stiffened, his eyes narrowed with unbridled, towering hostility. Seonghwa made no point to reply, but you could feel his temper rolling off in waves from where you sat. You decided not to push it. Technically, he lets you get away with a lot of things. You gulped, remembering how he callously shot someone in the head just by messing with you.

And that was fine, until you realized you weren’t getting driven to the place where you thought you’d be. You picture the familiar buildings that lead to your apartment, the roads that you walked to and fro everyday. You dare not breathe as you slowly approach the belly of the beast.

Seonghwa’s house, your old house with him.

“W-What are we doing here? Seonghwa,” you panicked, gripping the leather seats underneath your palms. “Why are you taking me here—”

“Relax, dove, it’s only for one night,” he scoffed.

The car lurched to a stop, the brakes screeching with no warning, and a cold gust of air hit your face when Seonghwa opened his own door to get out, but not without turning his head in your direction. “Unless you want to stay with me,” he grinned maliciously.

You angrily stepped out, having no choice but to comply just for a night. Your heels clacked against the wet concrete, not even caring that you splashed into a small puddle, as you marched towards the house without even waiting for Seonghwa. You hesitated for a little, nostalgia was a dangerous thing to feel.

The last time you were in this house, Seonghwa was kneeling by the doorway, pleading for you to stay and not leave him, begging that he’ll change. Your chest felt hollow with misplaced intentions, but you decided to ignore it for now.

All you knew right now was that you need to wash off all the blood that marred your face; to wash off all the indirect sins that you knew you had no hand in, but still felt guilty about. When you went to the guest room’s bathroom, your heart dropped when you saw that nothing had changed.

The water felt invigorating against your skin, but peace never came to you. That man, you were the reason why he was dead. You might as well have pulled the trigger on him. As your mind raced with frantic thoughts, you heard a soft knock on the bathroom door, and then the telltale jingle of the doorknob.

“Don’t even think about it,” you snapped, still covering your naked body with your hands even though you knew he wouldn’t be able to get in.

You heard Seonghwa’s dark chuckle on the other side of the door. “I’ll be back immediately, I have business to attend to. Hongjoong is here to address your needs, shall you need something.”

You murmured in agreement just to get rid of him. You would take this opportunity to slip away and go back to your apartment. You just hoped that Seonghwa wouldn’t be one step ahead of you like he always was. He could do whatever he wanted, you didn’t care.

At least that’s what you told yourself when you dressed up using your clothes that Seonghwa didn’t bother to throw away. A scoff leaves your lips, was he really hoping that you’d come back to him? Still, you couldn’t help but wonder what it is that he was doing this late in the night. Back then, you disliked when Seonghwa worked late as it worried you to no end.

“Y/N? May I come in?”

The family butler, Hongjoong, stood at the far end of the room. You greeted him with a warm smile, genuinely happy to see somebody that you knew wasn’t going to take advantage of your presence. He carried a small cup with him with what you assumed was tea. “Hey, Joong, long time no see.”

“Likewise, Y/N. The mansion wasn’t ever the same without you,” he smiled. He paused, hesitation coating his features as he set the cup down in front of you. “I wish you never came back, though.”

You sighed. It might sound harsh, but you knew he meant well. He saw how suffocating Seonghwa was as a fiance. “You can thank your boss for this fiasco. Ask him later, but I’m leaving right now.”

“I still value my life, thank you,” he chuckled, shaking his head. He bowed slightly before he started to walk away. “Call me when you need anything.”

You cursed mentally, swiping your hair up in frustration as you stared at the steaming cup of goodness. You wanted to leave before Seonghwa came back, but if you were being honest with yourself, you felt beat up. Your arms had started to bruise in some areas while you showered, patches of unsightly purples and greens spread all across your skin.

It wasn’t a good idea, and you were setting yourself up for failure, but you decided to drink the tea quickly and then vanish. You sighed, sitting down on the leather sofa, grabbing the remote control to the TV to raise the volume as it was already on, anyway. Seonghwa had a habit of leaving them on even when he’s not around so he’d have easy access to the news whenever he needed it.

Relaxation seeped into you as you took a good sip. Earl Grey, you realized. It made you smile a bit, it was your favourite. Seonghwa bought an entire land just to plant the trees that made them all for you one time. The memory suddenly made the tea taste bitter.

Suddenly, the distinct voice of the newscaster on the television made you freeze mid-sip. “For our breaking news,” they began. “A man was found brutally beaten north of downtown a quarter before midnight. It said that they passed away shortly after their sustained injuries.”

That in itself wouldn’t have been too bad, but when they showed the man’s face pre-crime, the cup wavered in your hand, drops of the tea spilling from the sides. It was the man that pushed you in the bathroom, the one that gave you the nasty bruise on your arm.

The more the reporter recounted the injuries, the more your grip on the cup tightened. You struggled to process the words, but more so how grizzly the attack was - missing teeth, broken jaw and ribs, face beyond recognition and repair. The words began to blur as you sat staring at the screen, frozen in your place.

A small chuckle sounded from the doorway, breaking you out of your thoughts. It was followed by a tut, the mocking kind. You closed your eyes to calm your nerves, you knew your chances of leaving were slim to none at this point. Even at a distance, his presence was so overwhelming and suffocating.

“What a shame. Such a handsome fellow.”

You didn’t turn right away, not wanting to give Seonghwa the satisfaction of seeing you falter. If he looked closer, he would’ve noticed how badly your hands shook. ”Yes, it is,” you said flatly, setting the cup down before you shattered it towards the floor. “What did you do?”

You were afraid of the answer, terrified, even. “Whatever do you mean, my love?” Seonghwa replied from where he stood. You could practically hear the smirk from his voice. He was so sure of himself and a bit too close for comfort. “I would never associate myself with the likes of that man.”

That much was true. As lethal as he was, he held an air of grandeur to him that always starstruck you. He could have been royalty in his past life. Everyone was beneath him.

“Oh?” You worded out, your tone more aggressive than you’d like. “What did you think happened, then?”

Your gaze flickered towards the door, and you wished you didn’t. He leaned on the door frame, arms folded, posture as relaxed as ever. “He must have had a pretty bad fall,” he shrugged nonchalantly. He said it so smoothly, so calmly, that it sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s no big deal.”

You didn’t know what it was. Something passed through his eyes, but it was gone in an instant before you could read it. The way he stood by and stared wasn’t imposing either, but there was something about the way he parroted your words in the car earlier, the way he knew that you knew, that made Seonghwa truly the terrifying man that he was.

You looked at him in disgust. “You’re a psychopath.”

“I prefer creative,” he started walking towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. He stops directly in front of you, his torso in your line of vision. His index finger tilts your chin up until your eyes are meeting his.

For a while, he didn’t say anything, the rest of his fingers brushing your skin tenderly in a way that should’ve calmed you down, but all it did was terrorize you. His gaze was calm, yet it unsettled you to your bones. “My, my, little dove, you are quite ungrateful,” he remarked softly, almost soothingly. “I don’t like ungrateful people.”

He gripped your chin firmly, not enough for it to hurt, but enough for him to make his point. “I don’t know what you want from me,” you cut the undeniable tension in the air.

“It’s not what I want from you,” his thumb pressing lightly over your skin. “It’s what you need from me.”

You frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Watch your tone,” his eyes narrowed as he dug his sharp nails on your chin. You had to suppress a groan until he calmed down. He sighed, his thumb carressing the area he hurt. “Did you honestly think I enjoyed you seeing me like this after hiding it for so long when you were with me?”

The question hung in the air, what were you supposed to say to that? His eyes darkened. “I do everything for you, dove. Can’t you see that everything I do is for your enjoyment and glory?”

This man was delusional. His hands lowered down to your neck, his fingers not squeezing, but the command was there. “I could kill anyone for you without blinking. I’m the only one who will do this for you, because I’m the only one who knows what you truly want,” he took a deep breath.

His voice became gentler, but that served to scare you even more. The words coming out of his mouth weren’t normal. “You think someone would care for you like I do?” Seonghwa asked affectionately. “You owe me, Y/N. Ask me why.”

“W-Why?” You asked, your words cracking halfway.

“Because,” he answered, eerily calm than it should be. “You’re the only one I care enough to hurt about.” Seonghwa kneels down, his hand unwrapping itself from your neck to hold your thighs. “I’m different now, I won’t let you down, baby.”

Your breath hitched, wanting to pull away, to scream, but the fear had you frozen in place. "I know how you are, Park Seonghwa,” you gulped. “You can't fool me."

"Once. I made that mistake once,” the mask had slipped and the true chaos inside him, referring to when he had hidden things from you. “And I already paid that price, little dove. You left me. Won't you spare me a bit of your love? I learned my lesson."

"You haven't learned your lesson. It's impossible. We are what we are," you stood your ground regardless of what Seonghwa would do to you.

He smirked. "You know I love you," Seonghwa said. "I could wait for you for as long as you need me to."

You frowned, your eyes widening slightly in horror. The confession wasn't something you haven't heard before, but it terrified you just the same. "You shouldn't. I don't love you like that," you rasped weakly. "We've talked about this before."

Seonghwa tilted his head, his face not giving out what his thoughts truly were. You had no idea how utterly smitten he was with you; how depraved he truly was. But the truth was, you could see it on his face. Instead of the rejection stunting his attempts, it made him want you more.

"How long are you going to pretend you don't want me, little dove?" Seonghwa held your hand. He planted a slow kiss, his dark eyes looking up at you as he did so. "How long are you going to deny me?"

It wasn’t difficult to see how his words, no matter how sweet or manipulative they were, hinted at his unstable mindset. “Anyway, I digress,” he pulled away, “Stay the night. You’ve been through a lot today.”

Anger is an indulgence, and it’s something you weren’t willing to feel at the moment. You weren’t angry at him, no - you were angry at yourself. You should have just left earlier.

“I have to go,” you whispered so softly it was almost unheard in the wide expanse of the room. “You weren’t even supposed to bring me here.” Your tone was accusatory. Clearly, you’ve had plenty of blunders today.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “Has it never crossed your mind that all the things you’ve been doing lately have all led you to me?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but he continued. “Think about it,” he shrugged. “The odds of you stumbling upon me, through the backdoor, nonetheless, on a bar that we had just purchased the same night is astounding.”

You grit your teeth, not having any idea that he owned the property. Had you known, you wouldn’t even have bothered at all.

You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to scream at him and fight him until you were out of this suffocating house. He tilted his head in response. “You’re not a prisoner, dove,” he declared with disturbing softness. “You are free to leave anytime, but you have to behave and you have to trust me.”

“I don’t trust you,” you bit back, baring your teeth at him like an animal. “I never will.”

Something flashed in his eyes - something inhuman. He chuckled, as if he was expecting your answer all along. “Not yet,” his eyes, once again, glimmered with something foreboding. “But you will, if you know what’s good for you.”

You flipped him off, jumping off of the sofa to tread towards the door to leave, ready to shove him out of the way should Seonghwa resist, if need be. You were done playing his games, you were done being his plaything.

Seonghwa laughed, low and manic, as he watched your petite form stalk towards your goal like a cat who has set his eyes on its prize. Your jerked back, heart pounding in your throat, when he grabbed your wrist to halt you from moving forward.

His eyes were predatory, and you were pretty sure that he could smell your fear. “Behave, Y/N. It’s quite late, and I’m looking forward to retiring to my bed,” he smirked. He leaned closer to your ear to whisper. “Or are you looking forward to finding out how I’ll punish you if you misbehave?”

You grit your teeth, the audacity of this man! You fists clenched to your sides, the ache of rage and frustration bubbling inside you.

“No need to be afraid,” he whispered, leaning in close. “I told you, you’ll learn to trust me. I always get what I want.”

He lets go of your wrist to walk away, but not before he turns his head to side-you. “And I want you.”

A day or two was fine, to be fair, you really did need to rest and recuperate all the energy you had lost from all the adrenaline-fueled chase in the nightclub.

But you’ve been in Seonghwa’s territory, Halazia, for almost a week now. True to his words, you really weren’t being treated as a prisoner. Hongjoong did his best to accommodate all your needs, but it didn’t erase the fact that you were just a glorified captive that he dressed in silk and bound by the chains of his obsession.

Seonghwa always had an excuse, his latest one being that he wanted to see you out since he knew you weren’t going to show your face to him for a while. Well, that was three days ago. It pissed you off to no end, you weren’t completely stupid - it was his way of manipulating you to stay.

All you did was stay in the guest room. Seonghwa has tried to coax you once or twice, but you always ignored him, and you weren’t ready to see the people you used to know that you had gotten close with before you left.

Fine, you thought. If he wasn’t going to let you leave, you were just going to get out, yourself, without anybody knowing. You had no idea how you’ll do it, Halazia was well-guarded, but damn, if you didn’t try. You had to escape.

You carefully opened the door that led out to the currently empty hallway, looking left and right to see if Seonghwa assigned somebody to watch you. There wasn’t any, but you didn’t trust what you see - it was what you didn’t see that you didn’t trust.

The only good thing about this house was that it had a lot of secret entrances and exits just in case Seonghwa needed to escape if the operation got compromised. You had memorized them just in case you needed to escape from Seonghwa, ironically, like right now.

The nearest one to you was locked, of course. You cursed under your breath, quickly moving on to the next one. It was a gamble, unlike the other secret exits, this one was disguised as a small aesthetic dresser that Seonghwa had cleverly displayed at the end of the hallway. When opened, you would be greeted by random coats for diversion.

You silently moved them aside, revealing a hidden door knob behind them that led to the underground garage. Luckily, you were small enough to fit through without making the wooden structure of it creak. You were so close, and now, you had this one chance.

“Y/N?”

You reached for the door knob, but before your hands could wrap around it, your breath hitched, every muscle on your back stiffening. You rigidly turned your head, meeting Yunho’s widened eyes as they went back and forth between your face and where your hand was headed.

“Y-Yunho,” you pleaded, gulping on your nerves. You were thoroughly fucked. “Please…”

But before you could both react, low murmurs of voice started to echo down the hallway as well as thudding footsteps that signalled a couple of people just around the other hallway.

One of which was Seonghwa’s.

You couldn’t even lament. You knew this was going to happen. Every single time you found an opportunity to seek your way out, he would always come for you. He was always one step ahead, always waiting for you to screw up so he could whatever it is that he wanted.

Your breath got caught in your throat. Seonghwa’s presence loomed close like his footsteps, his voice muffled, yet smooth and cold, as he talked to whoever he was with. When his shadow was outlined at the end of the hallway, you knew you were done for.

And when you heard Hongjoong’s voice from the distance looking for you in panic, you knew you were found out.

Without thinking, you stepped in the dresser, closing the door before you slid in the corner behind all the thick coats. You swallowed, forcing yourself to still your breathing and manage your panic, but the truth was, you felt like you were going to faint. You stayed hidden, holding your breath and waited.

Footsteps approached until they directly stopped in front of the dresser. Your stomach twisted in fear, your breath coming fast and shallow. One wrong move, and all of this would be over.

“Yun,” Hongjoong’s panted tiredly. “Have you seen Y/N, by any chance?”

You inhaled a sharp breath. You had totally forgotten about Yunho. You said a quick prayer in your head, squeezing your body even tighter against the corner. Light passed in between the small crack of the door, allowing you to see Seonghwa along with two people you couldn’t really see finally joining Hongjoong and Yunho.

“No. I thought she was still in the guest room?” Yunho sounded thoroughly confused when he answered, his voice leaving no room for doubt as he covered for you.

Relief washed over you. You would never forget this favour from Yunho as he stepped in for you without a second thought. Through the crack, you could see Seonghwa close his eyes to reel in his anger, his fingers massaging his temple in nuisance, staring at Yunho, who squirmed at the attention, intently.

“She couldn’t have gotten far. Find her,” he ordered in eerie stillness.

Seonghwa remained in the hallway directly in your line of vision through the small space in between the wooden doors. This time, you weren’t breathing at all, your mind racing. Why wasn’t he leaving?

“Y/N,” he sighed exasperatedly. “Oh, my little doveling.”

Your chest exploded, pain spreading through your lungs as your breath got knocked out of you. His possessive way of calling you out shook you. You couldn’t risk getting caught, so you didn’t say anything.

You flinched when the doors rattled with his touch, creaking slightly as he opened it ever so slightly. “I know you’re in here,” he chuckled, teasing and soft, and so mocking. “Did you honestly think you could hide from me?”

Your stomach churned when the doors opened violently, its hinges almost coming undone. You wanted to cry, but you forced yourself to be still. You were still hidden behind the thick, wool coats. You just hoped your heavy breathing didn’t give you away.

You watched as his dark eyes scanned the dresser and for a moment, he didn’t move, just standing there as if disbelieving that he wasn’t seeing you. He hummed, finally closing the doors. A chill sparked up your spine, it couldn’t be that easy—

It all happened within a split second. You screamed when the doors opened again, a hand grabbing you and dragging you out of the dresser to be forcibly pinned against it. Somehow, Seonghwa still knew you were in there as if he had always known from the start - as if he anticipated you hiding in it.

“You think me stupid, don’t you?” Seonghwa murmured with false pretense. “I own you. That also means I know how your mind functions.”

You fixed your stare on the floor, not daring to lift your head to look at him. He held the areas on your arm that were still bruised, they hurt, but you were wishing that you could just disappear on the spot. But there he was, standing before you as his hands pinned yours tightly against the wall. His stare was intense, his demeanor more so.

“Look at me,” he commanded. He wasn’t playing around this time, that much you could tell.

You looked into his eyes with equal intent. A glint of surprise passes through them for a split second before it disappears and something akin to proudness appears on them. It was certainly twisted, especially because you just don’t understand just why he was so obsessed with you. Had you known it was going to be like this, you would never have left him the way you did.

In some ways, you felt like you were responsible for his unnecessary fixation towards you, and knowing Seonghwa, he was never going to stop until you were completely in his possession.

“You know what I think?” Seonghwa began, his voice tethering the line between amusement and controlled rage. “I think you think that you know me.”

One of your hands fell to your sides as he let go, only for him to grab you by the hair, bunching them up in his wrists tightly as he yanked your head backwards. Pain bloomed in your scalp, but Seonghwa didn’t care. It was this moment where you actually feared him, the real depth of his madness were finally starting to come to head as his patience was slowly thinning.

“I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you all over. Tell me, doveling, what do you think I should do?” Seonghwa said. His movement became frenzied in the simmering rage that was surfacing on his face. “There is no point in escaping when the cage has no door.”

You groaned when he jerked your head forward, then pushed it backwards, the back of your head hitting the wall. “Maybe this ought to help you, maybe this will wake you up, because clearly, nothing I do is worth your time,” he sneered, savouring the pain that registered in your eyes. “I give you everything, I feed you, dress you, love you, and this is what you repay me?”

“Hiding isn’t going to do anything for you, because I will always find you,” he continued, his words slow, deliberate, and threatening. “You think you can outsmart me, that if you stayed holed up in your room I won’t notice that you’re missing. Get this in your head.”

He leaned forward, his entire body closing in on you, wrapping you in the same darkness that swallowed the sentient part of his soul a long time ago. "I love when people think they’re smarter than me,” his lips curled into a sick grin. “It makes the chase so much worth it.”

Something in his words sobers you up immediately. With all the strength left in you, you twisted away completely from his hold, pushing him away with a scream. You breathe in and out, just watching Seonghwa’s unimpressed gait, his fists still up. They held chunks of your hair, but you didn’t care.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You need help, Seonghwa,” you yelled in frustration, lifting your hand to tap aggressively on your head. “You are sick in the head, you delusional fuck, y-you’re…”

You trailed off, your emotions getting the best of you as they clogged up your throat. It might be wrong to talk back to him like this since it will make your situation worse, but you knew Seonghwa was done playing with you. He was slipping deeper and deeper in his delusions and there was no telling how far he’d go just to keep you.

Your heart bled, the pain in your scalp and the back of your head pounding, begging for attention. He has never been physical with you just to get what he wanted, he has gone too far now.

“You want to leave, don’t you?” Seonghwa asked softly, uncharacteristically soft compared to the crazed look in his eyes. He stepped forward, and at first, you thought he was going to corner you again, but instead, he leaned his back on the wall beside you, his head tilted upwards to stare at the ceiling. He turned his head to meet your eyes. “But you won’t. I won’t allow it. Now that I have you, I am not letting you go. Not now, not ever.”

You scoffed, but in truth, the way he said it posed fear in you. “That is not up to you. You cannot just imprison me and expect me to like you after this.”

“Oh, but I can,” he chuckled. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

He started to scoot closer, so close that you can smell his cologne that was mixed with the delusions that came along with it. It unsettled you, the only time you got close to him after you left him was when he was spreading your legs to bury himself in you whenever he’d ask you to go out for either coffee or drinks.

“You’re mine,” he said, more forceful than before. “Come on, say it. Say you’re mine. The sooner you understand that, the sooner you’ll feel better about it.”

“No,” you denied strongly with a hint of desperation in it. “I’m not yours anymore, Seonghwa, please. I just want to go home, let me go.”

He didn’t seem to hear you, that or he chose not to. A light laugh bubbled from his chest, but it wasn’t joyous - it was empty, like he was trying to convince himself that he was right and you weren’t. The two of you must’ve looked odd in the hallways, just leaning against the wall. However, to you, it felt like the hallways were crushing in on you.

“That’s the problem isn’t it? You don’t understand,” he said almost sympathetically, like he was telling these deranged things to you for your own good. You felt like you were going to get sick, it sounded more like an omen than anything else.

He was right - you didn’t. You didn’t want to understand, he could rot in hell for all you care. “Why me?” You whispered, hoarse and broken. It was the only genuine thing you wanted to know.

“Because,” he began, his hand reaching for you. His touch was cold. “When people see me, they think I’m this monster, they don’t understand,” he shook his head. “But you? You are the only one who knows what I’m truly capable of, the only one strong enough to take me as is. The only one who knows that I am actually a monster.”

It wasn’t the entire truth. Seonghwa stared at the fear in your eyes at his statement, he wanted to tell you the truth - that as messed up as it is, he just really genuinely loved you. Nothing about this was normal, but he was never going to tell you because he knew that you were never going to believe him.

The gaping hole you carved out of his heart was still there even though you were right in front of him, he would have loved you forever, and you didn’t understand that.

But that’s fine. He’ll make you, one way or another.

Your throat tightened, and despite everything in you screaming to run, you felt a tear slip down your cheek. His smile softened, and he wiped it away with a tenderness that was almost cruel.

“Seonghwa, this isn’t what you’re making it out to be, you are really unwell,” you pleaded. You hesitated, having no choice but to say the one thing that’s been weighing on you. “You have to move on, we are not meant to be. If you really loved me, you’d let me find another man to love, a normal one—-”

“I love you,” Seonghwa interrupted, the words coming out almost too quickly, exploding with the anger he was trying to repress. He glared at your face with an intensity that was borderline obsessive. “Is that not enough for you? How dare you mention another man in my presence?”

“That’s not what I said, and you know it,” you gasped, thick with terror, trying to remedy the situation.

He forced you to look at him. “So say it,” he hissed. His face twisted into something terrifying than anything you’ve seen. It was hurt, as though your refusal was the worst kind of betrayal for him. “Say you’re mine, because I will never leave you alone if you don’t.”

It was a threat, his certainty in it wrapping like noose around your neck, but the answer was still the same. “N-No,” you shook your head in defiance, more firmly this time. “I never will be.”

It was what set him off, the calmness he faked shattering before your very eyes. His hand shot out to bang his fists on the wall beside you. The sudden bout of violence made you gasp in surprise. “Fuck, you’re really testing me here,” he seethed, no longer soft, just harsh and detrimental. “God, I know you still love me, you don’t get to pretend when I know.”

He leaned closer, his face twisted with fury. He was dangerous, and you had no way out. “I’ve let you run free for a while now, my patience is waning down. I only stretched it for you and even then there’s not much I can provide you. I even let you go when you told me that bullshit about breaking up, enough is enough now,” he spat bitterly. “Come back to me.”

His words felt like a slap to your face.The sickening feeling of his warm breath against your skin felt overwhelming and your body was rendered paralyzed. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t, not when his words echoed in your head like a broken soundtrack.

“I’m not letting you go, you hear me?” Seonghwa continued, not caring if it sounded torturous to your ears, and certainly not caring that he was basically admitting that he will completely hold you against your will. “You’re going to take what I give you, and you’re going to like it.”

But you weren’t broken yet. You stared at him blankly, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you break down no matter how furious he got.

Seonghwa leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. "I’m doing this for you. For us. But if you push me too far, I’m not going down alone," his voice hardened, just a little, enough to remind you of what lay beneath the surface. "It’ll hurt you, too."

The veins on his neck bulged as he held himself back when he realized you weren’t going to say anything. He really was controlling his anger, but barely.

“You will learn how to love me again,” his words were clipped as he uttered them, jaw tight and just on the edge of breaking. The air between the two of you cracked with tense energy. “No one else will love you like I do. I can’t live without you, but I will make sure that you cannot live without me, either. I’m not asking anymore.”

You didn’t understand what he was trying to tell you, but you were about to. His hands flexed slowly, his fingers stretching as if the need to reel in his rage was physically painful. He snapped them, his eyes not once leaving yours. “Get her,” he deadpanned.

Footsteps began to approach from behind you. It was, then, when hands started to restrain your form, completely immobilizing you. Rapid thoughts spun in your head, the weight of their hands oppressive. You tried to pull away in an attempt to break free, but their grip was just too strong. You stared wildly at Seonghwa, eyes widened as you screamed on the inside.

“You can’t leave,” he muttered, his voice cold and detached, full with promise. “I will do everything in my power to find you, because I will. And when I do, I will make sure you never, ever leave me again.”

He turned around, his back facing you with finality, the true madness of his love setting in your bones. “Take her away and lock the doors.”

“N-No, wait, you can’t do this,” you clenched your jaw, resisting the arms that gripped tight on yours as they tried to drag you away. “Seonghwa! No, please, Park Seonghwa, let me go!”

But you were dragged, anyway, from your tormentor. There was a sharp tug in your arm, the force of it so strong that it made you stumble. They didn’t even wait until you got your balance back, resorting to dragging your limp body.

Each step forward felt like you were walking towards a nightmare you had no control over, and when you reached the guest room, you realized that you knew one of the people who was leading you to your personal hell. You were pushed forward, and before the door shut, possibly forever, you called out to them.

“Wait, Wooyoung, please, wait,” you begged, quickly dashing towards the door to hold it open. “I really need to talk to you, please…”

His eyes held hesitation, but probably after seeing how distressed you were, he closed his eyes and let out the heaviest sigh known to mankind. He turns his head on the other person that dragged you, the rougher one. “Get lost,” he ordered, his face contorted into something intimidating.

But when he closed the door to lean on it, his eyes were the softest you have ever seen. It held sympathy and understanding for your situation, but you weren’t a fool - you knew his loyalties would always lie with Seonghwa.

“The majority of us were betting on your escape, you know?” Wooyoung looked up as he leaned against the doorframe, his hands on his back. “Seonghwa and you were perfect for each other, but that came with a price.”

“Wooyoung,” you sighed.

“Let me finish since I can’t be seen here,” his eyes were hooded as he put a finger on his lips to indicate the decrease of his voice. “Keep it down.“

He pointed at the earpiece he wore, one that everyone wore since Halazia was massive. His face turned rigid with worry before he turned back to you. “Seonghwa just sent Yunho to the brig for a week.”

You paled, your jaw hanging low in shock. The brig. It was basically a glorified underground cell where they kept whomever they pleased. You wanted to tear up, Yunho went to your defense at the risk of being punished, but as always, Seonghwa knew everything.

The fact that he sent one of his closest friends from his personal team said a lot.

“You’re not going to get far in escape, not like before,” his voice was low, almost soothing like he was trying to calm you down and not make you feel trapped. “You are never going to make it far.” Wooyoung’s eyes turned sadder even further. “I-I can’t do anything to help you, I’m sorry.” You wanted badly to escape, you know he could see it in your eyes, but there was nothing he could do. You swallowed all the emotions that threatened to break you on the surface. “I can’t stay here,” you tried to convince him. “I don’t belong here, Wooyoung.”

“You don’t want to mess with Seonghwa,” he shook his head with equal conviction. “He’s my liege, and I cannot forsake him. He’s the greatest, most notorious criminal known yet, however, I think you underestimate how far he’ll go just to keep you,” he paused, hesitating. “I would very much like you to stay alive, Y/N.”

Shivers traveled from the base of your spine to the tips of your scalp. “I don’t know what to do,” you squeaked, the defeat weighing down your body. “I don’t want to be his prisoner, I-I can’t live like this…”

He formed his lips into a thin line, his eyes softening as he started to walk towards you in small, careful steps. “I’m not going to pretend it’s alright, because it’s not,” he sat beside you on the bed, his weight dipping on the mattress. He had always been a friend to you. “It takes someone strong to be with Seonghwa, let alone deny him. This is the man that got whatever he wanted no matter how immoral it got. This isn’t the way, Y/N.”

You shook your head frantically, grabbing his hand to squeeze it. “Belonging to him, relinquishing my soul to him, you might as well gag me at that point.”

He put his other hand on top of yours, enveloping it with a much needed warmth that comforted you even though his eyes held pity. “You don’t have to belong to him,” he whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m asking you to stop fighting him.”

Your head snapped up to counteract his ridiculous claim, but he shook his head and continued. “Don’t you get it? There is no escaping him. He will find you even if you’re in the middle of God-knows-where,” he let out a sigh that seemed to carry a lot of burden in it. “I’m saying this for you, because there is no way out where he doesn’t hurt you.”

The finality of what’s been boggling your mind was crushing. You knew that there was no easy way out, but it still hurt to hear. “I’m not going to give up, even if it kills me,” you gritted your teeth, your determination setting fire in your guts.

“Y/N, please,” Wooyoung begged, squeezing your hand tighter. “For what is Yunho in the brig? For what did Jongho drive you away from here back then? And for what did I take Seonghwa’s punch when he realized I was distracting him? He’s not going to let you go, not now, especially not after everything.”

You shut your eyes tightly to reign in your oncoming migraine. “So, what? I’m just supposed to surrender and let him do anything to me? This isn’t love, it’s possession.”

“If you accept this,” he gulped with reluctance. “If you stop fighting, Seonghwa will go easy on you. It’s easier if you stop running.”

Wooyoung searched your eyes, hoping that he conveyed all the sincerity he could possibly offer you given the situation, but all you could see was the sadness and resignation - he didn’t believe in what he was saying, but he had no choice but to.

“Let it go, please,” he whispered, hoarse and defeated. “I’m not saying this for his sake, it’s for you. This will break you, Y/N.”

You shook your head once more. “I can’t give this up, I’m sorry. If I want the easy way out, I would stay here and just take it.”

His eyes sharpened, his brows furrowing into what resembled annoyance, but it still held the pity that Yunho had before you went inside the dresser. “I’m not asking you to give up,” he begged, anger and affection mixed into one. “I’m asking you to stop a battle you know you can’t win.”

You didn’t say anything after that, and his eyes dropped into accepting that you weren’t going to listen to anything he was saying. You’ve made up your mind. Heavy silence stretched between the two of you until, finally, Wooyoung got up to walk to the door. You can see him manually working on his well-crafted mask, but when he turned back to look at you, there was that softness underneath.

“You didn’t hear me say that three days from now, there will be a bust where Seonghwa has to be present, and you certainly didn’t hear from me that underneath your bed is a trapdoor that leads directly to the outdoor garden, one that Seonghwa doesn’t know,” he murmured. There were escape routes Seonghwa purposefully had no knowledge of in case he gets held as a hostage.

He opened the door to let himself out. “And I’m not telling you that Jongho will be waiting for you.”

You couldn’t wait for Seonghwa to leave, it was killing you to wait this long. He hasn’t bothered you at all, presumably because he was very angry at you, but more so since he was planning with the rest of his team, Ateez, about the so-called bust that they will do away from Halazia. In the meantime, you tried the door again. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Wooyoung, but you didn’t want to risk it. It might either be a trap, or he might get in trouble and accompany Yunho in the brig if Seonghwa finds out.

You jumped away from the door, your heart skipping a beat, when the doorknob you were tinkering with suddenly twisted and turned. You backed yourself back on the bed as your door creaked open to reveal someone you weren’t pleased to see.

Mingi stood by the doorway, staring at you in amusement, his eyes flickering between you and the doorknob. You internally cursed, you knew you had been caught. He was most likely outside guarding the door when you tried it. “Just when I thought you couldn’t be stupid enough,” he smirked, mildly annoyed. “Why are you trying to run away again? You just never learn, do you?”

You weren’t expecting to see him, in fact, you were surprised that he was put on guard duty. That was probably why he was pissed. Frankly, Mingi terrified you. He was just one of those members that openly showed his dislike towards you. His presence constantly reminded you of your captivity.

“Don’t project yourself on me,” you scoffed, riling him up. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you nervous. “Seonghwa put you on babysit duty. You must hate that.”

He laughed. “I suppose I see the appeal of why Seonghwa has been obsessed with you,” he mockingly tilted his head. “Stop trying, you have zero chance of leaving. Not while I’m here.”

“I’m not your prisoner,” you shot back, clenching your fists to your side. “He can claim me all he wants or force me, but I’m never going to belong to him like a doll. And you are, too.”

His eyes twitched in annoyance, stalking towards you, his arms still crossed. He leaned forward, making you back up in apprehension. “That may be so,” he chuckled darkly. “But I’m not the one who is caged like a fucking bird right now.” "You think you can just run off like this?" Mingi continued, his voice low, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You really believe you have a chance?"

Mingi leaned away with a satisfied smirk, his arrogance and cruel enjoyment of your struggle really coming through. He was trying to break your resolve with his words, trying to make you believe that escaping is futile, when in reality, it couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Your hands clenched to your sides, controlling your urge to sock Mingi directly in the face not because you were scared to hurt him, but because you were scared that he’ll hit back. “That’s not going to stop me from trying, you brute.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” he waved off, backing away towards the door again. “But the thing is,” he paused to taunt you. “You’re not as clever as you think you are. Even if you get past me, you’ll have to get past Yeosang after.”

You paled, your nerves setting your insides on fire. Yeosang wasn’t nearly as infuriating as Mingi, but he was equally as loyal and cruel.

You had to leave now.

“Anyway,” Mingi turned the doorknob to leave, but not without glancing back at you with a sneer. “I will admit, you have balls for leaving him the first time, but Seonghwa already made up his mind this time. He won’t let you go, so I suggest you accept that now.”

And then he left. You glanced at the spot where Wooyoung told you that there would be a door. Truth be told, you haven’t checked yet; you were terrified that Seonghwa was going to walk in any minute and decide to put you somewhere else.

But there was no time to waste. You waited half an hour to make sure that Mingi wasn’t hanging around before you grabbed a blanket to slide under the feet of the bed to prevent any sounds before pushing it away enough for you to crawl underneath it with ease, and lo and behold. Your mouth felt dry as you stared at the handle of the trapdoor that could potentially lead you to your freedom.

You closed your eyes, praying that there truly was freedom on the other side, that Wooyoung would be safe, and that Yunho wouldn’t stay in the brig for too long. And after this, you will be gone forever.

Waiting until midnight would be the best option for you. Granted, it would also be the time where Seonghwa’s guards would be more alert, but it was a safer bet than somebody potentially walking in the room and chasing you down the trapdoor. Shivers crept up your spine at the thought of getting dragged back.

The silence was killing you, but your thoughts completely annihilated your sanity. You could just picture Seonghwa’s face etched with fury as he realized that you had, once more, escaped under his nose. But you also couldn’t help but think of the hurt that shone in his eyes. All he wanted was you, and you couldn’t fully fault his deranged mind, but you wanted to be free.

As you knelt to grasp the handle the moment that midnight striked, your breaths turned shallow and laboured. You gulped, willing the tremors from your fingertips to go away. You couldn’t falter, not now. With a jolt of adrenaline, you pulled it open, wincing as it creaked, which was a telltale sign of prolonged unuse. You just hoped no one heard it.

You released a breath you were holding when it revealed a ladder that led down, and that there was a dim light illuminating bits of the wooden ladder. That meant that you were nearer the exit than you thought you were.

A faint noise outside your door makes you freeze. You swiftly glanced at the direction, waiting for the moment that Seonghwa would burst in and see you holding a halfway opened trapdoor, but nothing.

Without another thought, you quickly jumped into action, going down the ladder, your foot hitting the first step as your hand slowly closed the tradoor above you. The moment you did, there was slight relief that coated your chest, it was one step to freedom after all.

It wasn’t fully dark in the damp passageway, the concrete was still visible from where you were walking as that faint light from the exit shone on it as if it was guiding you to your freedom.

When you were sure you were far from where you came from, you broke into a sprint, running literally for your life. Your legs screamed in protest, not used to exerting energy from the weeks that Seonghwa held you captive, but you didn’t stop. You were scared that he’ll catch and snatch you from behind.

But that didn’t happen. After what felt like an eternity, the passageway began to narrow until you hit a deadend with another ladder, only this time, it led above. Your desperation was hitting you at an all time high - you climbed the ladder without any hesitation, not even stopping to think if there was someone potentially dangerous waiting for you on the other side.

Before you were even fully out, hands were already pulling you out from your armpits until you hit a hard chest. When you looked up, a sigh of relief escaped from your chest.

“Jongho,” you whispered, your voice cracking at the solace that his presence had brought you. Wooyoung had not been lying.

Your heart pounded in your chest. It wasn’t like Seonghwa wasn’t going to find out, because he will, but you hoped that Wooyoung and Jongho will be able to buy themselves sometime before then.

“We have to hurry, there’s not much time left,” he hastily pulled you in a run, his voice strained with panic as he kept looking behind him. “There will be guards stationed here in less than five minutes, we have to get to the car by then.”

Your face paled, but you forced yourself to nod, anyway, working your muscles to pick the pace to match Jongho’s, but it was getting difficult. “Are you going to be okay?” You asked, panting hard.

Jongho’s hand held your arm as he practically pushed you forward, shaking his head. “I told San that I was going to check the other side of the property and station on it for a while. It should be enough for me to drive you to your place, but it will be tight.”

“We’re not going to make it,” you panicked, calculating everything in your head and visualizing the outcome.

His jaw set into a hard line and before you could say anything else, he stopped, shoved you behind him, and squatted down. “Hurry,” he barked a command. “Climb on my back, it’ll be faster.”

You hesitated, your nerves getting the best of you, and he could tell. “Climb! Hurry, please!” Jongho hissed, eyes widened in pure panic, as he flailed his arms to gesture for you.

It was the best course of action. Whether it was the adrenaline or the sheer terror of the situation, Jongho had a burst of strength that allowed him to reach the car faster than it would’ve taken both of you had it not been for his fast thinking. He quickly opens the door to practically shove you inside it before slamming it close, and before you knew it, you were driving away.

The drive back to your apartment was tense. Jongho instructed you to pack as little as possible. Yunho had suggested that they take you to the motel that was on the enemy’s territory. It wasn’t foolproof, but it would lessen the odds of Seonghwa finding you faster before you could fully get away. Even Seonghwa didn’t mess with another mafia’s territory.

“I can’t check you in,” Jongho said as he parked in front of the said motel. “They will recognize me. Use cash from now on, Seonghwa will be able to trace your cards.”

You felt a rush of emotions, a mixture of gratitude and regret. Seonghwa will punish him when he goes back, you could see the small fear behind Jongho’s eyes. You bit your lips, leaning in on his space before pulling him into a tight embrace. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” you sniffled, tears pooling in your eyes.

He pulled you away to stare at you. “I had a promise to you back then,” he said, softness in his eyes. You were the one who got Jongho a ‘job’ at Seonghwa’s manor after you found him homeless one day. He promised you his life then and there. You didn’t know he’d be a ruthless killer one day.

He held you by the shoulders, pushing you away slightly. “Now go, and please, do not let me see you again.”

With one more grateful nod, you walked away without looking back. Jongho sighed, he really hoped you made the most out of tonight. It was basically a suicide mission for him.

The drive back to the manor was the most tense he has ever felt. By now, he was sure that Seonghwa knew that you were gone by now, the only reason why he was still breathing was because he wouldn’t find out yet that he helped you do the impossible. Time was the enemy.

And he was right. The moment he got out of the car, voices in his in-ear comms were calling everyone to Seonghwa’s office for an emergency meeting. Jongho took deep, calculated breaths, practicing the mask that he was taught before going in to face everybody as if nothing had happened.

Wooyoung hastily approached him, grabbing his arm to lag behind everybody as he leaned his body towards him. “Success?” He asked tentatively as quietly as possible. Jongho raised a brow in confirmation, not wanting to move anything else for the fear of someone listening in.

The air in the office was thick, everyone piled in one by one in random spots. Personally for Jongho, he always preferred being near the exit, but he had to stick with Wooyoung this time.

Seonghwa was just standing in front of his desk, arms crossed as he watched everyone with his sharp eyes. That was the thing with him; he never needed to shout nor demand, he was just naturally intimidating. His presence was suffocating, his eyes eerily calm.

He’d be a fool if he said he wasn’t expecting this, like Seonghwa had said once, you were the only one strong enough to match his flame. He knew that there would be a time that you’d escape again, but he wasn’t expecting it to come sooner.

“Someone messed up,” he said softly, too softly. He gazes at them one by one, none of them meeting his eye. “One of you fucked up.”

Jongho tentatively watched as everyone shifted with unease. Mingi and Yeosang shared a tense glance, but he resisted the urge to jump back when he saw that San was already staring at him with suspicion. He gulped, holding eye contact, anyway.

Hongjoong, ever the calm one, steps forward, the edge of his voice betraying his unease. “I’m sure she hasn’t gotten far—”

“Stop,” Seonghwa’s voice was even quieter this time, but it was the type of quiet that made everyone’s back stiffen. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he leaned away from the table to walk past everyone. His expression was unreadable, but Jongho didn’t want to guess what he was thinking.

For a while, he doesn’t say anything. The silence in the room screamed louder than any rage could, and for once, everyone wished he would just burst out. This calm, quiet fury was more petrifying. Seonghwa wasn’t angry - not yet.

San looks away from Jongho, sensing the shift, and speaks up with Hongjoong. “We’ve already checked the perimeter…”

San faltered when Seonghwa cut him off with a single glance, shifting uncomfortably when his boss didn't even acknowledge him, lest you count the slow nodding of his head. It was the only indicator of his thoughts, minus the tight clenching of his fists on his chest.

“Find her,” Seonghwa murmured, his words clipped and deliberate. “And find her quickly.”

Jongho felt Wooyoung shift forward. He wanted to stop him, but that would raise suspicion so he just bit his lip. “We might not be able to this time,” Wooyoung cleared his throat. “We might fail.”

“Your incompetence doesn’t constitute understanding on my end,” Seonghwa said, stepping in front of them so his back was turned towards everybody else. “So don’t fail me.”

Jongho’s heart dropped to his foot when Seonghwa passed him a fleeting glance, a small smirk painted on his lips before he turned back around again. Seonghwa knew, he fucking knew.

“Boss,” Mingi called out. “Don’t you think maybe this is a sign to not let Y/N back?”

The room suddenly turned cold, the silence of his statement almost deafening to everyone’s ears. Seonghwa raised a brow in challenge. “And why is that, my dear Mingi?”

“My loyalties lie with you, my liege,” Mingi spoke, his tone cautious since he knew he was treading on thin ice. “Y/N is a distraction to the operation.”

Everyone held their breath, the tension was undeniable. Seonghwa’s eyes narrow, his pupils dilating ever so slightly as his lips form into a tight, thin line. “I had no idea you’ve gone senile,” he said. “But I respect the audacity.”

In a split second, Seonghwa’s fist connects with Mingi’s guts. The taller groan in surprise, coughing in agony as he clutched his stomach in pain. “Now, now Mingi, you can’t just dish out something and not learn how to take it,” Seonghwa chuckled darkly, tapping the latter on his cheek mockingly.

“You said you respected it,” Mingi coughed out some more.

“I do, as a matter of fact, I do respect you a lot now. But I didn’t say I wouldn’t harm any of you.”

The threat hangs around the air, looming heavily upon them. ”We’ll find her,” Yeosang spoke for the first time, his tone full of promise.

They were used to this side of Seonghwa, but tonight, there was something slightly different about the rage that brewed in his eyes. His patience was what truly made him terrifying, this was true power; something you had never seen since Seonghwa made sure not to.

“You better,” he simply said. “Or your loyalty won’t be enough to save any of you. One more word about Y/N, I will put the fear of God in all of you. Now, get out.”

No one wasted any time scurrying out the room as if it was on fire. The moment the door shuts behind them, Seonghwa’s calm shatters.

His rage boils over, and with a single swipe of his hand, papers that were neatly placed on his desk all fall on the floor, shattering the nearby picture frame that held your face. The sound of crashing glass rings through his office.

Seonghwa bangs his hands on the desk, his breaths coming in rugged and raw. When he saw the broken picture frame, like a man possessed, he smashes it further with a solid step of his foot over and over again. The glass shatters completely, it rains down like the shards of his crumbling control.

“You fucking,” he forcefully brings his fists down on the picture frame, not caring for the glass shards that punctured his skin. “Bitch.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, the walls shaking as he kicked the nearby cabinet that contained some of his whiskey bottles. He doesn’t care as the slew of expensive bottles came crashing towards the floor. “Fuck!”

The sound of it made everybody freeze from outside the door. Wooyoung’s knuckles turned white behind his hands as he winced at the loud bang from inside the room. “Should we, uhm,” he started, not daring to finish his sentence.

Yeosang’s eyes widened. “We have to stop him before he—”

“No,” Hongjoong snapped sharply. “Are you crazy? You do not want to go in there.”

Another crash sounds, and Jongho’s jaw tightens. He was glad you weren’t here, because this was the worst Seonghwa has ever been with his rage. He watched MIngi’s eyes tick at the next serieses of growls and roars from Seonghwa.

The stay at the motel was the most peaceful yet tense four days of your life. You couldn’t sleep properly at night, half expecting someone in the middle of the day to burst in and just drag you back to Halazia where Seonghwa would be waiting to imprison you again.

You couldn’t stay there anymore, and that’s why you were on your way to the bus station to finally get away. You already talked to one of your sisters, Jinhee, who called you in a panic the other morning when someone was apparently inconspicuously looking for you. You both decided to stay at your other sister’s place, but Jinah wasn’t answering when you tried to call.

The bus stop was quiet, something you appreciated for once given your hectic life track as of late. Your thoughts were a mess, but you were hopeful for peace the moment you got on the bus.

You tried to look for somewhere to sit while you waited, but the nearest one had somebody seated on it. He wore a dark hat that obscured his face, not that it mattered since the newspaper he held and read covered his entire face, anyway.

You hesitated, strange unease settling in the pit of your stomach. You shook it off, choosing to sit at the far corner of the bench to avoid interaction, convincing yourself that it was probably just the nerves making you paranoid.

“Chilly day,” the man started casually all of a sudden. His voice was rich in timbre, and it sounded familiar. “Autumn’s slowly catching up now, isn’t it?”

Your heart rate picked up a notch, taken aback by the unwarranted small talk. You glanced in his direction briefly, that dread spreading through your veins, and now that you thought about it, he sounded oddly familiar.

“Yeah,” you forced out a reply, not willing to engage, trying your best to calm down. After all this, you just couldn’t shake the bad feeling in your chest.

“Traveling far? I’d say it’s dangerous for a young lady like you,” he commented, adjusting himself to scoot closer to you.

Alarm bells went off your head as you felt your skin prickle with the attention. You wanted to say that it was none of his business, and now that you listened closer, he didn’t even sound that old, either. “Sure,” you said quickly. “Just want to get away from this city.”

“Good idea,” he chuckled, shuffling the newspaper and folding it away from his face. “I mean, if people were chasing me from hell under, I would run far, far away as well, but you see…”

Your breath was completely snuffed out of your lungs when the man took the hat off of his face, his head turning towards you with a slow, amused smile. “Like we all said, there was no point in running, Y/N,” San’s voice dropped into a whisper. “I like you, Y/N, I really do, but you are one stubborn girl. He does care for you, you know? It’s sick and obsessive, but he does. And now all he wants to do is hurt you.”

Your froze, your blood hardening into ice. The panic hit you like a tidal wave, where had you gone wrong? You made sure to do everything that Jongho told you to do, made sure that you left no traces of yourself, so how? You felt so stupid for not recognizing San so fast.

You shoved yourself up from the bench, but before you could take a step, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a vice-like grip. “Not so fast,” he murmured, his voice cold now, his earlier casualness gone.

You yanked your arm, but he only tightened his hold. “We’re going back,” he said, his tone final. “And you’re not getting away this time. Unless, you want all the people in here jeopardized,” he gestured his hand all over the station. “Look closer.”

Every instinct screaming at you to run, to fight, to do something, but when you looked around, something didn’t feel right, and then you saw them.

Shivers went up your spine as you recognized some of Seonghwa’s men blended into the crowd like normal people. They were planted, hidden in plain sight, like the briefest flash of the gun tucked in their pants that you knew by now how to spot. They were willing to endanger the people around you just to take you.

It was over. You had no choice but to follow San as he escorted you to the car, the door shutting with a sickening finality. This was the worst case scenario, you’d rather have Mingi because as much of a brute he was, you could predict his actions, with San, you never knew what he was thinking.

Angry tears of shame and sorrow began flowing from your eyes. You knew that this was it for you, your second chance had flown away. Seonghwa and his men had no mercy, and now you’re learning that the hard way.

San wasted no time dragging you out of the car towards your apartment, to your surprise,, but you no longer cared about him, it was Seonghwa that you feared - always had. You could feel it even before you saw him; Seonghwa’s constricting presence was always controlled but deadly.

You were shoved inside the familiar space of your living room, and you didn’t even have to look up to know that he was there, you could just feel him. His power, his rage, hung in the air like thick smoke.

Seonghwa was at the other side of the room, his gaze meeting yours, steady and unwavering. You swallowed your nerves, but there was no point. He just stared at you without any anger or frustration in his face, and perhaps, that was the worst part in all of this. You knew him well enough to see through his well-crafted mask.

You opened your mouth to say something - anything - but what would you say? There was no way you were going to apologize or make any excuses, but the silence was unbearable. Seonghwa wasn’t going to break it anytime soon, but he had no need to. His judging eyes were enough to make you weak in the knees.

He began to walk forward, the clacking of his shoes beneath his feet loud enough to make you wince, and when he reached you, he made no move to touch you like he always did. He did nothing.

Nothing, except hand you a lighter for you to take. “Light it up,” he spoke.

His words were quiet, but there was no mistaking that command in it. Your hands were shaking, having difficulty flicking the lighter open, and it certainly didn’t help that Seonghwa was staring you down. Though you currently hated him, you were careful not to burn his face as your hand neared the cigarette trapped between his lips.

“Open.”

He wasn’t asking, he was instructing. You froze at the implication and everything instinct in you screamed for you to run and resist, but you leaned in as he inhaled deeply before taking the stick out of his mouth and blowing the smoke into yours. The taste of it was raw and bitter, it curled into your lungs along with something else; something that sent a rush of heat towards your chest at the intimacy.

For a while, he didn’t say anything, and you wished that it remained that way even though you were scared that the control he held of himself was going to shatter. “You think you can walk away from me?” Seonghwa finally spoke again, his voice low, still calm, but it cut through the silence like a blade. “Open.”

It was difficult, but you managed not to cough your lungs out at the heavy puff of smoke that almost made you want to gag. But Seonghwa didn’t care. “Keep your trap open until I tell you to close them,” he ordered with a low snarl.

You did as told, the fear completely paralyzing you. His voice was still controlled, his rage was held so tightly within him that it was like the room was vibrating with the power of it. Tears pooled from the corners of your eyes as Seonghwa still blew, and finally, he threw the cigarette butt away somewhere in the middle of the destruction.

“That’s a good girl,” he chuckled darkly. You yelped when he held your jaw tightly in his hand. “Why can’t you be this obedient all the fucking time?”

His grip tightened, not with the frantic violence of someone losing control, but with the calm, methodical pressure of someone who knew exactly how far they could push before breaking someone completely. "Why can’t you behave, huh? Why?"

You faltered, absolutely not liking the way that sounded in your head. You crossed your arms, the fear you had for him completely fizzing out and dying in your chest. “Now, hold on just a second,” you seethed, all the stress of running away and getting caught chasing your filter away.

Seonghwa’s brow raised. It certainly made him curious, so he let you continue. “Seonghwa, you practically kidnapped me with the notion of letting me go afterwards, and when I try to get away from this hell, you drag me down with you. Did you honestly think that I'm a possession you can cling to?”

You were definitely digging your grave deeper and deeper the more you opened your mouth, but you couldn’t take it anymore. All the hurt, the anxiety, the waiting for when Seongha will finally snap was driving you to the wall. You didn’t know how to carry all of this burden alone.

You took a step forward in a burst of confidence, jutting your finger on his chest and prodding him with it like a child. “Enough is enough, Seonghwa,” you said, your voice low and firm. “We were through, we aren’t together anymore. I don’t belong to you, and I sure as hell don’t want to belong to you anymore.”

He clenched his fists, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. Seonghwa opened his mouth to argue like you knew he would, but you cut him off, your voice stronger than you’ve ever heard it before as you finally stood up to him and stood your ground. “I’ve had enough of you trying to cage me like an animal, you sick fuck. You don’t get to suffocate me with your obsession, you don’t get to decide how I fucking live, breath, and exist.”

Tears stung your eyes. They were a mixture of rage and betrayal. The weight of it all was finally breaking through. “You don’t get to guilt me for wanting to live my life, especially without you, why can’t you understand?”

For a moment, Seonghwa’s gaze softened, as if he was finally looking through you for the first time in a while in a different light. He tentatively raised a hand to hold onto you, and his intentions were pure this time as his hand hovered in the air, but he flinched when you yanked your arm away sharply.

It was too late, you didn’t need that. There was guilt written all over his face, had he really gone too far this time?

“You were never really here for me,” you continued, shaking your head bitterly.

You were done. Done being scared of him, done of losing yourself because of him. Done loving him. “You want to keep a convoluted version of me that you formed in your head, that one that would just stay and follow your every whim, but that’s not who I am, Seonghwa.”

He stood frozen in his spot, his chest caving in as guilt made its way to his heart. He had never intended to fully hurt you, to make you feel that way you did, and for that, he was sorry to a certain extent. Seonghwa’s hand trembled, his palms slick with sweat as angry tears flew down your pretty face. He almost felt bad for you.

Almost.

“The thing I regret the most is you, Seonghwa,” you whispered firmly, but thick with emotion. “I regret ever meeting you and what happened after, but most of all, I regret not leaving you sooner.”

His eyes dropped, the weight of your words crushing his form. “Don’t say that,” he muttered, his voice shaky. His shoulders were slumped, a far cry from his angry and straight they were when you arrived. “I just,” he paused, closing his eyes to take a deep breath. “As fucked up as this is, I do love you, I still do.”

Your breath hitched at your words. “No, Seonghwa. You don’t know what love is, and even if you do, you love me a bit too much that you’re not allowing me to leave a little for myself because you want it all.”

“But, don’t say that you regret everything,” he said exasperatedly. “I loved you with all that I have, I will continue that until I cease to exist. Remember when we went on that trip where you told me you finally loved me, too? Or when we both would stay up all night to watch the stars while we talked about our future?”

He held your hands, almost desperately, as his words just spilled out from him without thinking. “Those were real, that was us, and you might not believe me, but I swear on Ateez those were all true. You can’t deny them.”

It was true that you and Seonghwa had good moments where you wanted them to last forever, but they felt distant, like a fleeting dream that never happened. “I don’t regret our moments,” you pulled your hands away. “I regret that you twisted them into something dark.”

You wanted to deny what he said to make him feel a fraction of all the hardships he had brought upon you, but you couldn’t. Just like his actions, you could never take back your words. I did the right thing, you thought, your heart aching as you stared at the lone tear that fell from Seonghwa’s eye.

He wasn’t the only one. You weren’t ready to let go either, but this was a start. It was a truth you weren’t going to admit to his face. You were in love with Park Seonghwa, and you couldn’t breathe because you always will be, but love wasn’t supposed to hurt like this. Love can never be designed.

Seonghwa stiffened, his mind reeling with all the things you’ve finally let out for him to hear. I regret everything. It echoed like a broken record in his head, and yet, a part of him couldn’t let go. He shook his head, trying to reel in his thoughts before they no longer became his, trying to pull in the beast that was threatening to break free from his mind.

But your words reverberated in his skull, the pressure building on it from the suffocating guilt that covered his head. He didn’t want to hurt you anymore, but it was too late.The realization was like a punch to his gut, and he had no one to blame but himself.

You watched him fight his demons, slight fear coming back into your chest, but you waited to see what he’s going to do.

Seonghwa’s breathing became ragged and laboured as he tried to massage his temples into coherency. Why didn’t he just let you the first time? No, he was doing what he thought was right, because his all-consuming love needed you so much. His mind grew darker and before he could lash out, he walked away from you and turned around.

For a long moment, silence filled the room. You watched Seonghwa try and compose himself, his hands shaking repeatedly while his head shook back and forth. It was like Seonghwa was actively trying to cast out and fight the demons that tried to possess his soul before it could completely take over him.

But when he turned around, the look in his eyes told you that it was too late. Seonghwa knew it was too late, he had done too much, the only way to move was forward.

“I want to kill you,” he softly admitted. “To finally stop your ghost from haunting me. But I can’t live without you.”

The confession left a painful tightness in your throat, but you remained strong and steadfast. You weren’t even angry anymore, you were just tired of him walking over you. “You’ve gone mad,” you stated. “Scaring me isn’t the way to go about this.”

“It is better to be feared than loved, if I cannot have both,” he replied rhetorically, digging into the waist of his pants to pull out a pistol. He stood there, not lifting it yet, but the way he gripped the cold metal of the gun had you trembling in your spot.

You didn’t move - you couldn’t move. Seonghwa’s guilt mixed with his anger, twisting his mind into something else. He never lost control like this, but he had also never felt his heart break into a million pieces like this.

The gun shook in his hand, the barrel still aimed at the floor. It was wrong and he knew it, but you were his everything, and now, not only were you walking away from him, but you were completely disintegrating in his head into nothing but somebody that he used to know.

“Seonghwa,” you whispered, barely audible from the demons that screamed in your own head. “Don’t make me leave like this, please, put the gun down.”

He didn’t move, didn’t say anything. It was worse than you thought, his mind was far more gone than you thought possible. You continued, swallowing your nerves down, more than ready to plead for your life. “Please, Seonghwa. I’m no one, just L/N Y/N, a 27-year old nobody,” your voice cracked.

Your legs finally gave out and you chose to sit on the floor. You looked up at him, putting your hands up like some sort of Hail Mary. “I was a nobody you stumbled upon in that restaurant, I was born in a dinky little town you had no idea existed. My parents are both teachers, and I have two sisters. Please Seonghwa, I haven’t done anything at all in this life, I haven’t lived, I’ve barely just begun, please, I haven’t finished anything at all.”

You sniffled, trying to keep your tears at bay. “D-Don’t kill me,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to die.”

Seonghwa contemplates. You practically watched the gears in Seonghwa’s head turn, his mind racing in a frantic spiral. You were surprised when he gave you the gun, grabbing your hand ro wrap it around the handle, kneeling down to your level on the floor, and pointed the barrel at himself, the tip pressing on his forehead.

“If you shoot me, what will you leave behind?” Seonghwa asked.

Your heart twisted violently at the odd question. It was more cruel than pointing the gun at you, because you knew that your answer would be dependent on whether you will live or not.

“A world without you,” you answered without hesitation.

You couldn't take Seonghwa's unnecessary obsession with you anymore. Seonghwa stared at you, his brows furrowing as he internalized the answer that you gave him.

"Go ahead and shoot, dove," Seonghwa said. "It's the only way you'll ever be free of me."

You stood frozen in your spot, the gun feeling cold in your hands. You've dreamt of this for so long, about completely ridding yourself of Seonghwa so you could get back the freedom he had stolen from you a long time ago. He looked vulnerable and open, while you were given a chance to make that dream come true.

And yet, you couldn't do it.

And Seonghwa knew you couldn't do it. He smirked. You screamed, a pitiful attempt at it, as he dismantled you and grabbed the gun back, only this time, it was pointing at you, instead. "You could have pulled the trigger and painted the walls with my brain," he taunted, cocking the safety lever. "Let's play a game of Russian Roulette."

"What's that going to accomplish?"

"If you give me a minute, I could change your mind," he shrugged. "But if you give me a bullet, I could change your life."

Seonghwa points a gun at your face, point blank, the nozzle pressing down your forehead. "What say you, Y/N?"

He was crazy. You closed your eyes, resigning to your fate. Seonghwa pulls the trigger, and then nothing. You couldn’t believe it, but still, you heaved a sigh of relief. You should have known that the gun was empty.

When you opened your eyes again, Seonghwa was livid. You release a cry that you've been holding. He grabbed your head, furious. "The love I'm willing to give you terrifies you, but death doesn't?”

This was it. It was this moment that will forever haunt you, because this was the moment that you knew something in Seonghwa had snapped.

Your breath got caught in your throat, the reality of the situation sinking in on you. His eyes gleamed with insanity, his pupils dilated with something wild and manic, and the feverish look in them twisted with madness that made your blood run cold. There was nothing human about it. Seonghwa was beyond saving.

“You’re scaring me, Seonghwa, please, let go,” you trembled in his grip, but he didn’t even notice. He was so lost.

“You think love is supposed to be sweet, gentle, or some other bullshit that’s supposed to feel good?” Seonghwa gnarled with unsettling fervor, nails digging into your skin. He shook his head violently. “No, it’s supposed to be consuming, something that takes everything. Just like what you’ve taken from me.”

“I didn’t take anything from you,” you thrashed around from his grip when his other hand held your hips to settle you, not caring if he scratched you at this point with the other. “S-Seonghwa, stop it!”

At the height of your desperation, you collapsed onto the floor with him, it was how hard he was gripping your waist as he tried to run away. His hands slam onto the ground when he ended up underneath him, but what truly horrified you was when he threw his head back and started laughing out loud. It was no longer the laugh of a regular person, the sound of it was shrill, hollow, and maddened. “Let me explain something to you,” he gritted his teeth, leaning down. “Love can be nurtured and rebuilt. It’s a pathetic attempt to construct something out of nothing, and I will dismantle and reshape yours until you look at me with the same love you used to look at me with before you—”

Your hand flew to his face before you could think, slapping his cheek with such force the crack of it was so loud against the room. You were horrified, you didn’t mean to hurt him, but the idea of what he was saying just sickened you because love can’t be molded from blood and pain. Seonghwa’s eyes darted towards yours, and for a split second, he looked betrayed.

That is, until his face contorted into something grotesque, and he grabbed your hands. You paled, because he started banging his head on your fists violently as he screamed, a horrible primal sound that came from within his guts.

“No, no, no!” Seonghwa bellowed like a madman. “I just want you to love me—”

“Seonghwa, stop it, stop!” You screamed, trying to pry your hands back from him because you were genuinely scared now, not even caring that your hands were hurting really bad from the hardness of his head.

“Stop!”

He paused, eyes bulged with fury. He lets go of your hands and you let them fall to your sides as you watch him get off of you to drop on his knees and bang his fists on your wooden floor. “I can’t take this anymore,” his breath came in jagged rasps. “I”m not crazy, fuck. Fucking hell, Y/N. I just want you.”

He broke down. You sat down, completely scooting away from him, watching as his tears fell down. His sobs, you were terrified of how guttural and broken they sounded. It was the image of a man who had lost his mind so long ago. “How can you do this to me?” Seonghwa growled through his tears. “This is the second time you left me, how can you fucking do this to me?”

His forehead was pressed against the unforgiving surface of the floor. His sobs were quiet at first, and it did hurt to hear. You clearly weren’t the only one suffering whether it was wrong or right. Soon enough, his cries became louder, more devastatingly raw, and more desperate.

Against your better judgment, you not only felt fear for yourself, but for Seonghwa as well. A split second of thought passes through you, had you made him like this? You knew that wasn’t the case, but as you stared at the tremors that shook his entire frame, you couldn’t help but think that you had some sort of part in this.

This wasn’t Seonghwa, what had become of the man you used to love?

Your heart pounded in your chest when his gaze met yours. You didn’t even have time to scream as he charged towards you to grip your shoulders. “Love me,” Seonghwa grinned, teeth bared, eyes widened with insanity. “That should fix this, love me once more, pretty dove. Be mine again.”

“You don’t know what you want,” you back up, terror seeping in your bones.

“No, you don’t understand,” he grabbed your shoulders tighter and a yelp slipped your lips. He tightened his hold, his eyes widening a bit more that he resembled a mental asylum patient. ”Love me.”

Tears fall down your eyes in sheer horror. Seonghwa bites his lips, groaning in pleasure at your scared display. You flinched when the back of his shaking hands tried to caress your cheeks.

It was a mistake. His eyes squint dangerously, yet his lips still remained in that disturbed smile, frozen in his face perpetually. “Seonghwa, please, you’re scaring me—-“

“I love you so much, dove,” he cooed mockingly. His fists bunched up your hair in a tight bun and pulled on your head. “Why is it so fucking difficult for you to love me back?”

Pitiful screams erupt from your mouth as Seonghwa rattled your head around, as if doing so would make you change your mind. Your hands tried to pry his hands, the pain on your scalp blooming bigger. “Seonghwa, s-stop, please! Please!”

To your utter surprise, amidst your dizziness, he does stop. Your eyes were nearly rolling behind your head and if he didn’t stop, you might have thrown up. His tear-streaked, bloodshot eyes emphasized the current state of his mind as he cradles your face in between his hands almost lovingly,

Almost. It felt infantilizing. It made you sick.

“Are you going to love me now?” Seonghwa asked one more time, his eyes flicking between tenderness and madness. “Do you fucking love me now?”

A strained whimper escapes your throat, a choked out cry accompanying it. It was a sick symphony; a travesty made worse when Seonghwa leaned in until his lips were touching the shell of your ear.

"Tell me you love me," he ordered, his voice deceptively soft. "I might do something you and I will both regret if you don't."

You swallowed, quivering with intense dread. Your knees threatened to buckle under all the weight of what Seonghwa was demanding of you at this very moment. "I-I love you, please..."

You held your breath when Seonghwa put his fingers on either side of your mouth, stretching them sideways to give the illusion that you were actually smiling. It was something straight out of a horror film, your tears wouldn't stop falling as he literally forced a smile out of you.

"That wasn't so hard, wasn't it? You did it," he praised, stroking your hair gently like he wasn't doing anything wrong. To be fair, in his mind, he wasn't doing anything wrong.

You jumped when he suddenly grabbed your chin and squeezed your cheeks together. It was slightly painful, and it elicited a pained groan from you. "But, I don’t believe you."

He pushed your face away with such a force, your head snapped to the side. It was when your legs lost their strength and you crumpled to the ground in one heap of a mess. And you knew deep in your heart, Seonghwa’s show of cruelty wasn’t what was truly crushing you.

The most painful thing about all of this was that despite all of this insanity, despite all the chaos and madness, was that you weren’t lying - you still loved Seonghwa. You still loved him with every fiber of your being.

True imprisonment wasn’t him forcing you into a room and locking you in and not letting you go until he was satisfied, it was all these feelings trapped in your heart even if it threatened to tear you apart. Seonghwa was not a good person, he was a monster, yet the love still lingered, clinging to you like a disease.

This pain in your heart, it was the proof that you still loved him. And that is the worst of it, you knew better than this.

Finally, something in Seonghwa’s chest began to lift as he stared at your pitiful form. When he closed his eyes, for what felt like an eternity, images of your smile filled his head. For a moment, he was filled with the love he felt for you for the first time, that pureness before it got tainted with something dark.

“I’ll let you go,” he whispered brokenly. His eyes filled with a broken kind of longing, eyes searching your face to read your expression. “I love you, Y/N. God, I love you. But I’m letting you go. I can’t live like this, either. I have an organization waiting for me.”

He hesitated, his voice hoarse with resignation. “One last time. Before you go. One last night, together. No more pain, no more bitterness. Just us.”

You almost didn’t want to believe it, was Seonghwa really going to let you go? Surely, it couldn’t be this easy. You highly doubted what he said, just staring at him with suspicion. He sighed frustratedly, his hands combing his hair in a mess and letting them hang over his face. You frowned, the state of his hair was the state of his mind. He hated it getting messed up.

His words came out strained. For a second, you felt bad for him. He was giving up, Seonghwa never gave up, but this was it, your ticket to freedom. “I would never stop wanting you, and needing you, Y/N. You have to get away from me.”

“Okay,” you whispered, trying to summon the courage to feel what you had in your heart even if it was for tonight. “One last time.”

“Prove it,” he suddenly blurted out. His eyes locked with yours, and your chest almost exploded with the urgent need in them. “I want to believe you, dove, I really do. I can see it in your eyes. Come with me.”

Here come the excuses that fuel the illusions, but you’d rather feel something, than nothing at all.

You should have felt repulsed, but here you were, grabbing the hand that he offered until he pulled you to the other room, one that you knew all too well. Seonghwa’s lips were on yours before you could think of anything else.

A groan sounds from the back of his throat as he pins you to the wall, his kisses frantic and desperate as if he was trying to feed his own illusions. You opened your mouth to take his intruding tongue, the wet muscle exploring the crevices of your mouth like he’s never done it before.

You wanted to cry, how could you still give him all of you when he was a far cry from the person you used to know? You suddenly didn’t know who was truly insane here, the roots of his madness had slowly uprooted themselves in you and it was difficult to pluck them away at this point.

You hated this, even as his mouth was hot and bruising against yours, because despite the danger in his eyes and the way his hands shook with the need to possess you, your heart still ached to reach for him.

“H-Hwa,” you gasped when he pulled your head backwards by your head, exposing your beck to his desires.”

“Shhh,” he hushed you, burying his head on the crook of your neck, wasting no time planting his love bites to mark you, the one he knew that drove you crazy. Stars aligned your vision as he sucked the delicate skin of your neck, taking his time to graze his teeth on them and alternating between the two.

You’d really rather feel something, than nothing at all.

He grabbed your hand, firmly guiding it to his crotch, using his other hand to unzip his pants and lower them. He wraps your hand on his aching cock, gasping softly as you feel it hard and pulsing in your hand. “F-Fuck, baby,” he hissed. “Touch me, please, I-I need it.”

Your breathing grew faster as you closed your hand around it and began stroking it. His moans of pleasure hit your ear followed by the sensual calling of your name that slipped from his tongue and you couldn’t help but squeeze him. You cried out in surprise when both his hands quickly slipped under your shirt and grabbed your breasts, his fingers digging in deep.

“Seonghwa! H-Hwa,” you breathed out, not caring for the consequences. You forgot the fear, just focusing on his lips that still attacked your neck.

“Take your panties off, dove,” he panted, his ragged breaths against your ear turning the last coherent parts of your brain into mush. “Now, love dove, please.”

You didn’t let his cock go - you didn’t want to - turning your head a bit to whisper in his ear, “Yes, mommy,” in the most sensual voice you’ve ever mustered, surprising even yourself. You obeyed, your panties hitting the floor.

“Oh, fuck, my love, y-you can’t just do that,” he growled, shuddering against your skin.

“W-Why? I like the way you touch me,” you breathed out as his fingers adeptly plucked your nipples with his fingers, rolling them in between to stimulate pleasure out of you in the best way possible.

He chuckled, planting a soft kiss on your temple. “Let go.”

You pouted in dissatisfaction when his hands stopped fondling your breasts and pulling yours away from his cock, but your eyes widened when he lifted one of your legs up and held it up, pressing onto your body impossibly closer. “Look at me,” he grunted. “Look at me.”

You’ve never been fucked standing up before. You kept your eyes on him, almost exploding at how hooded and lidded they were as sweat trailed down from his temples to his lashes. “Hwa, o-oh my God, mmm,” you moaned out when he positioned his cock in between your pussy lips.

He gives you a lazy smile as he rubs the head on your clit, satisfaction rolling through him at the ecstasy written on your face. “You want it?” Seonghwa softly asked even though he was aching to plunge inside you immediately.

You found yourself questioning the reality of what was happening, doubting, but your body had other plans. You haven’t seen Seonghwa smile without any malice in a long, long time. You lifted your head, you had to lean it against Seonghwa’s own forehead since he was basically towering over you. You heard his gulp hard, watched him close his eyes. It was all he needed to know.

“Seonghwa,” you cried out when he started to enter you, his hand snaking on your behind to push you towards his intruding cock, completely filling you to the brim with his throbbing thickness. The both of you still had your tops on, but it didn’t stop his heat from migrating towards you. “S-So good.”

“Oh, fuck,” he growled under his breath, burying his head on your shoulders once more to savour the sensation of your pussy clenching around him as he began thrusting into you with a brutal pace of his hips. “Hold on tight, sweetie, I’m going to fuck you harder, yeah?”

“M-Mhhm—Hwa, mmm, Hwa!” Your cries were loud and grating against your throat, the pleasure overtaking all of your senses. You were pretty sure his men heard it from outside the house. You didn’t care, all you felt was Seonghwa’s hot breath against your ear as he nibbled on it.

You gasped when he pulled out momentarily to peel you off the wall. He turned you around before he pushed you again, growling as his cock entered you from behind this time. You couldn’t stop the blush forming on your cheeks as you faced the floor-length mirror you had in your room, Seonghwa’s dark eyes watching your tits sway back and forth from his thrusts.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” he taunted, his hand groping one of your tits. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Look at you, fucking yourself back on my cock.”

You cried as he hit a particular spot inside you as your hips buckled to meet his. He points at somewhere in particular. “Why don’t you be a sweetheart and give that gun back to me?”

You didn’t care anymore, you were drowning in pleasure, far too gone to think about what he was asking you. You scrambled, getting his pistol from the nightstand where he put it earlier and handed it to him. “S-Seonghwa—”

“I love you so fucking much, you don’t even understand,” he groaned amidst the slapping of skin on skin echoing through the walls of your bedroom. Your hips stilled momentarily when he pointed the gun on the back of your head. “Relax,” he chuckled. “It’s not loaded, remember?”

You licked your lips, actually ashamed at the arousal that coated your inner walls, subconsciously clenching on Seonghwa’s cock at the image you saw on the mirror in front of you. “Fuck me,” he mouthed, digging the gun into your hair.

“Fuck, Seonghwa,” you choked out, moving your hips once more to feel his thick length move inside you. This wasn’t supposed to be hot, it wasn’t supposed to be this much of a turn on for you, but it was.

“You wanna know something, baby?” Seonghwa leaned towards your ear, his grunts spurring your hips to move backwards and forward. “You’re just as sick as I am. You really should be ashamed of yourself for getting turned on about this.”

You moaned impossibly louder as you shoved your behind faster on him over and over again, his full length stretching you out with each thrust. This image will be ingrained in Seonghwa’s brain forever, and he wasn’t going to last another second longer. “G-Gonna come, baby—fuck.”

You gasped, clamping around his length as you felt his warmth fill up your insides. Seonghwa growled loudly, his breathing strained and laboured as he thrust in a couple more times before suddenly pulling out and kneeling down. “H-Hwa, what are you—”

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head at his tongue’s onslaught, your arousal mixed with his sticky cum dripping down from your hole all the way down his tongue as he lapped on it, some of the excess trailing down from your thighs all the way down to your feet. Your hands planted themselves on Seonghwa’s hair, unconsciously pulling on it as you continued to cream in his mouth.

The way his tongue rolled on your sensitive bud had your knees buckling, but Seonghwa made sure to keep you up, not even bothering to pause, and just like a hurricane, the force of your orgasm knocked the wind out of your lungs as the hot, searing flash of white blinded you for a couple of second.

It set you on fire, and he dove at your pussy with enthusiasm. Seonghwa took long, broad licks of your pussy, pausing every so often to push his whole tongue into you, wiggle it around, and then focus on your clit.

He repeated this pattern a dozen times, you had your hands in his hair, and as you approached orgasm, your grip got tighter and tighter. Seonghwa groaned at the sensation, and finally, you let loose with another loud moan, forcing his face into you even further as you reached your second climax. “Seonghwa…”

“Just like that, baby, come on my tongue, mmm,” Seonghwa coaxed you through the wild shaking of your body until you let out the deepest sigh accompanied with a small whine of overstimulation. His licks slowed down, his hands caressing your soft thighs, before finally stopping to stand back up.

“Get on the bed,” he held your arm and slightly pushed you towards it without even waiting for your response.

You blinked repeatedly at him. “W-What?”

“You heard me,” he deadpanned, unbuttoning his crisp, white shirt before tossing it randomly somewhere along with the gun. “On your back. I’m not done fucking you.”

You weren’t supposed to be turned on by that, but you were. You swallowed when you looked down and realized he was still fully hard even after coming inside you. You did as told, trying hard not to stutter in your steps as you laid on your bed, letting Seonghwa spread your legs to position himself in between them.

“Arms up,” he whispered. You did as told without hesitation, letting him also take your shirt off along with your bra until you were completely bare beneath him. He groaned at the sight of you, especially your glistening pussy, still half-full with his cum. “Stubborn as you are, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips.

“I want you inside me," you whispered to his mouth and his eyes closed in bliss as you guided his hard cock to your wet, slick pussy.

For a moment, you forgot how deranged he was. Seonghwa poured all the love, no matter how crazed it was, his affection, and his passion in the kiss. You quickly accommodated him, kissing him back just as passionately, immediately tasting yourself and him on your tongue. “Mhhm,” you whimpered as you felt his cock slowly slide into you.

He pulled away to whisper against your mouth. “Wrap your legs around me, love.”

You did as told, moaning in his mouth as he pushed himself more until he was, once again, all the way inside you as deeply as he could. You swallowed Seonghwa’s moans, his thrusts shallow. He would pull in just enough for the tip to remain before slowly thrusting back into you.

He was as gentle as possible, but it wasn’t going to last long. You hoped it didn’t last.

“Fuck, Y/N, this pussy is mine,” Seonghwa growled, giving it to you exactly as you wanted - hard, fast, rough - not caring if you were a screaming mess. He just kept pounding you down the mattress and it shook the bed with how forceful he was.

“Tell me you love me, even if it’s just for tonight,” he begged, eyes filled with unshed tears as he stared down at you. “Even if it’s a lie, tell me you love me.”

But that was the thing. It wasn’t going to be a lie. His eyes widened a bit when he realized that you weren’t going to be lying.

“I love you, Hwa. I love you,” you sniffled with tears of your own.

He smiled. He smiled. “I love you, too, my dear,” he whispered. “I really do.”

“Hwa, Hwa, H-Hwa, f-fuck,” you clenched at the sight of him on top of you, the usual prim and proper look on him long gone, replaced by someone primal who devoured you whole.

“Louder, baby,” he groaned out loudly, his eyes dropping heavily with lust, his hips slamming onto your ass obscenely. “I want the entire neighbourhood to know who you belong to, f-fuck.”

His groans were just as loud as yours, it was honestly such a turn on. He smirked at your fucked out expression. “Look at you, baby,” he chuckled darkly, leaning down to press lightly on your neck. “Fuck, look at you going dumb around my cock, yes, squeeze me, love, squeeze my fucking cock.”

You didn’t want to be fucked anymore, you needed to be destroyed. “Fuck, yes, just like that, my love, feel my fucking cock deep in you,” he panted out, slamming into you even harder.

He was going deeper in you with all his might, sweat dripping down from his forehead to your chest. His arms rippled as he supported his own weight and you felt his back muscles moving as he continued with his assault on your poor pussy.

“D-Don’t stop, Hwa, please, keep f-fucking,” you begged, stars lighting up your vision everytime you felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your pussy.

You could hear Seonghwa groan and curse earnestly, barely audible over the hard smacks of your hips against the solid wall of his thighs. You could barely keep yourself together as he used you like a toy. “My only purpose is to fuck you over and over again,” he gritted out, holding your head in his hands as your body went back and forth on his cock. “You ready to take my cum again?”

You nodded, eyes wide in anticipation. “Y-Yes, mommy, give me your cum, please.”

His hips stuttered, his mouth dropping down, roughly pounding into you. “You, fuck,” he moaned out, his voice roaring loudly in the air. “Y-You will never, ever be satisfied with someone else once I’m through with you.”

Seonghwa’s face twisted in concentration, his teeth gritting as his thrusts slowed down, and you gasped audibly when you felt another round of his seed warm the walls of your pussy. “Y/N, dove, a-ah, fuck,” he whimpered, his voice high pitched with all the pleasure he felt as he pulsated inside you.

You were delirious at this point, but when he gripped your legs tightly once more to hoist them up his shoulders, you sobered up really quick. You squealed pathetically, his reinsertion setting your nerves on fire. “H-Hwa, f-fuck–”

“That’s it, baby,” Seonghwa moaned, his eyes fluttering close, biting his bottom lip at the quivering sensation that ruled his body. Overstimulation threatened to snap his cock into two, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted all of you.

“Baby, fuck, ngh,” he whined, his deep voice absolutely nowhere to be found and, God, it absolutely did something to you. His eyes closed shut, his hips stuttering in the cadence of his never-ending thrusts. You didn’t have time to be surprised, Seonghwa was insane. Surely, it didn’t just stop there.

Your lips crashed together once more in a hungry kiss, Seonghwa’s hips pistoning into you in and out, grunts of pain reaching your ears. “I’m g-gonna keep fucking you,” he gritted his teeth, pain blooming on his groin, pleasure just right behind it. “I’m not gonna stop…”

He completely engulfed you in his arms as your legs dropped down to his waist to tighten your grip on him, pulling him impossibly closer to you, grinding onto his body with a delicious friction.

If it was possible, the overstimulating pain made Seonghwa rougher, more intense, and more desperate than ever before. The bed squeaked beneath you but you could barely hear it over Seonghwa’s roars. “You’re mine, Y/N, you’re all mine, fuck,” he growled, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. “Mine.”

“Seonghwa, a-ah, S-Seonghwa, wanna c-come,” you whined at the pain, but it just made him bite deeper. It was all you needed to feel that familiar tickle in your groin, and your heat began to wrap around him even tighter at the sensation. “O-Oh, S-Seonghwa, come inside me—”

It was all he needed to come undone. You gasped audibly when he put his hands behind your head to forcibly make you look him in the eye. His eyes blazed with fury and determination amidst the pain of his cock driving in and out of you. The insanity was back, and he made sure you saw it.

“I’ll breed you. Put my babies in you so you’d never leave me again,” he panted, hilting himself with one final thrust before yelling out on your shoulders, barely muffling the sound.

You weren’t completely drowning in that much pleasure to agree. “H-Hwa, baby, t-this isn’t right,” you whimpered, mouth dropped open at the tingling sensation another orgasm wanted to bring.

You felt his seed shoot inside you one final time and it was all you needed. “Come, baby, come on my cock, please, please, please, come on my fucking cock,” he gasped as the pleasure become to much for him.

Your body began to seize against his hold. Seonghwa covered your lips with his with a kiss that spoke volumes. He let you moan onto his tongue as your cunt pulsed all around his cock, reaching a euphoria your mind couldn’t comprehend. You both stayed locked together, savouring the comedown, but not really ready to let go as of yet.

And when Seonghwa finally pulled out, he couldn’t help the growl that emitted from the back of his throat as his cum began spilling out of you in copious amounts. Even he was surprised at how much cum was spilling out of your used, puffy cunt. His cock was numb.

He smirked, it was all worth it.

“So, this is it, I suppose,” you breathed out, laying down in bed tiredly, carefully lifting the blankets to cover yourself. Not that you needed to keep decency. “I hope you know that I do care for you, but I also want you to know that we both need time away to heal from each other.”

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of manipulation or desperation, but all you saw was raw, unguarded emotion. The kind you hadn’t seen from him in months. He sighed, turning to his side and facing you. “Can I ask you something?” Seonghwa muttered.

You nodded your head, awaiting his question. “Have you ever wondered what we could have been if I was just Park Seonghwa? Not the mafia lord, not the criminal, not the murderer. Just Seonghwa.”

What he was asking of you hit you harder than you thought. It made sense that he’d ask, it was the main reason you left, after all. “Every single day,” you admitted. “I would imagine we’d be married by now, maybe we’d have had our first child, too.”

Seonghwa let out a laugh that sounded more self-deprecating than anything. It was soft, but full of pain - the pain of recognizing that the what-ifs would remain just that. “When you walked out on me,” he exhaled slowly. “I could’ve stopped you, I could’ve tried harder, maybe made more false promises. Believe it or not, I did give you space.”

“You did,” you stated, rather than asked, your voice cracking. You weren’t ready to talk about these, but this might be the last time you’d ever see Seonghwa.

“I did,” he confirmed. “Would you have come back to me if I didn’t chase you around?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You let the question linger in the air, because this was something you’d never asked yourself before. “I don’t know,” you answered. “And we’ll both never know. We can’t change what happened, and we can’t rewrite the past.”

Seonghwa met your gaze again, and this time, there was no anger and no regret, just the aching kind of understanding as his stare was fixed towards you. There was something in the intensity of his stare that made you catch your breath. He didn’t blink, nor did he look away. He just stared at you.

“In a perfect world, you’d want me, need me, as much I do,” he whispered, jutting his hand out to caress your cheek. “I knew you’d never want this, but I also know because you’d have come running back to me anyway because you love me. You’d have surrendered to me and if you did, I wouldn’t chase you like a fool. I would be letting you go.”

“I’m tired of thinking, Seonghwa. I really am. There’s not much I can think of but the reality where we’re in right now,” you said.

“And I really wish that you didn’t think. I wish that you knew for certain. But unfortunately, this world is not perfect. Tell me what you want, Y/N. Right here, right now.”

You opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come right away. The way his eyes reflected all the hope, albeit only a little, crushed you. “I want to be free,” you finally said, the words strange in your mouth. “We both need to stop living in a lie, Seonghwa. I’m not the same, and neither are you.”

It hurt for you to say these things out loud, but it needed to be done. He didn’t say anything for a while, and you could tell he was hurting, as well. This man was once your world, but not anymore. You can’t carry him and the weight of his pain on your shoulders anymore. “Will you set me free? Can you let me go once and for all?”

It takes Seonghwa several seconds to fully understand your request, but when he finally does, a nauseating sensation overwhelms him, a sickness settling in his stomach, twisting around his insides. He always believed there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you, that’s how much he loved you, yet you just managed to find something. “One more question,” he insisted softly.

“What?”

“I know you still love me. Might be more than I love you, might be less. Will you ever stop loving me?”

The question was simple, but the way it knocked all the air out of your lungs made you think otherwise. You wanted to lie, wanted to look Seonghwa in the eye and tell him the opposite of what you truly felt for him. In fact, it would be very easy to lie to his face because this was your freedom.

Seonghwa’s gaze was steady, like he already knew the answer, but needed to hear it from you. He held his breath, still waiting for you to say something, but you were too frozen to do so.

You avoided eye contact. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he answered a bit too quickly for your liking.

“No, I don’t think I will,” you admitted, finally at peace with the truth, because deep down, you knew that this was the last time you’d ever say it out loud. Even though you still loved Seonghwa dearly, you had to let go for good.

For the first time, the truth didn’t hurt you.

Something resolute passes through his eyes before he finally breaks eye contact with you, repositioning himself on the bed to lay down on his back to stare at the ceiling. “I’m moving to New York next week. Permanently. We all are,” he said. “Operations there are far more beneficial for me since the crime rate will help a lot.”

As much as that statement felt like a punch to the gut for you, a small part of your brain was telling you that this was a good thing because the finality of you and Seonghwa not seeing each other again was coming into place.

This was why you couldn’t be with Seonghwa no matter how much you loved each other. His ties to the mafia and illicit dealings was the least of your concern - it was the danger that will forever lurk with him. You were never ready for the emotional and psychological toll it will inflict you. You didn’t want Seonghwa to come home with a bullet between his eyes or have to visit him in jail. Never mind the constant target for retaliation should something go wrong with an enemy group.

“I see,” you replied, not knowing what else to say.

“Let’s have coffee one last time before I leave,” he pleaded. “Would you grant me that right even though you owe me nothing but ignorance?”

It was innocent enough, but it wasn’t that simple. You wanted to establish that line between the two of you as early as now, yet there was that longing that always reared its ugly head whenever you tried to push it down.

Why was it that when you were this close to pulling away, Seonghwa makes your heart flutter again? What is it about him that kept pulling you back?

The walk to the cafe was nerve-wracking for you, to say the least. The last time you were here, you didn’t know where you stood with Seonghwa. It hasn’t even been four months since then and yet, it felt like it was a lifetime ago.

You hesitated, your foot rooted to the ground directly outside the entrance. The closer you got to going in, the wider the hole in your gut got. You figured it was just the nerves, you were finally saying goodbye to your tormentor - as fucked as that sounded - after all the days you were trapped in confusion and pain.

You took a deep breath, choosing to leave your nerves behind and making your choice, something you haven’t made for yourself in a while.

You weren’t ready, not in the slightest, but there he was. Seonghwa sat in the same corner where you were the last time, and for once, he wasn’t purposefully late, or rather, he chose not to humiliate you this time and made you wait to no end.

You couldn’t help but stare at him. He was staring out to the world in deep thought, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He wasn’t even doing anything, yet his quiet elegance still commanded respect. Seonghwa leaned casually against his chair, his dark, tailored coat hugging his body just right and his hair neatly combed up - far from the hot mess of a man who was on top of you the other week.

Your heart thudded in your chest. He looked like he was leaving for good.

And then, he was suddenly looking at you. “Hey,” he whispered, almost unsure. It was a type of voice you haven’t heard from him in so long. The last time you heard it was when he was asking you to marry him one cool, summer night a year and a half back.

“Hey,” you smiled tightly, putting your lips in a thin line as you tentatively approached the table. Truth be told, you wanted to walk away. Something was gnawing in your chest. But the part that loved him so, the part that wanted to let go, didn’t.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” Seonghwa gestured to your seat, even going as far as pulling your chair for you and pushing it back for you to sit on like a gentleman. He had a serene smile on his face when he went back to his. “But, I’m glad you’re here.”

He, once again, gestures his slender hands, but this time, at the table in front of you. He already took the liberty to order some food. It was one of the rarer things that you didn’t take offense to when it came to him; as warped as his mind was, he did cater to your needs very well, and that included the type of food you liked to eat and how you liked your coffee.

“Thank you,” you murmured, taking a small sip of your vanilla iced coffee, pleased to find that Seonghwa had already requested extra syrup. It was extra sweet this time, though, but you weren’t complaining. “When are you leaving?”

His sharp eyes calculated your every move, lingering on your lips a little too long before his own lips twitched ever so slightly. “In two hours,” he replied. “Most of our stuff is already in transit. I just have to be physically there. I really just wanted us to end on a decent note.”

You blinked, not totally processing his words at first. It hit you like stone when it did. You smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It can’t get more decent than this,” you murmured. It was true, this was the first time that the strain between the two of you wasn’t crackling in the air.

You took another sip of your coffee, just so you weren’t sitting so awkwardly and so stiffly. The aftereffects of the months of unresolved tension were making you dizzy, an almost surreal sensation clouding your vision. Huh, you thought, you underestimated how stressed you actually were.

“You okay?” Seonghwa asked, brows furrowed together, his lips strung in a deep frown. There was an imperceptible shift in his expression, but the haze was too much for you to calculate what it really meant.

“Yeah,” you said, taking a deep breath and hoping that the dizziness would pass. “I’m just a little tired.”

You booked a little vacation on the seaside for tomorrow, something you didn’t tell Seonghwa. You had no need to. You were looking forward to that as you were seated, thanking your lucky stars that you actually booked it at the last minute. You needed to unwind after all of this.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re pale, love,” Seonghwa raised his hand to touch you, something you rejected with a wave of your hand, and something he surprisingly respected.

He sounded a little more insistent now, but he still held that calmness he was known for in the criminal world, but in the end, all he could do was sigh in resignation. “If you insist,” he said, even though he looked like he wanted to say more.

The air felt cold, heavier, and now thicker with all the unspoken things between the two of you that would remain just that - unspoken. Seonghwa resembled a man who had carried the weight of regret for far too long, but even he knew that it was too late.

“I won’t keep you too long,” he said, his words slow as if he was dragging them out. They were raw, nonetheless. “I just wanted to say goodbye properly. The right way.”

He paused to smile thinly. “I just…had to see you before we went. I’m not going to ask for your forgiveness, Y/N, and I suppose that’s the only real thing I will always be sorry for because I can’t control the way my heart yearned for you, no matter how wrong it got.”

“It’s okay,” you almost scoffed. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, anyway.”

“Touché,” he chuckled.

You swallowed hard, a little disappointed, but to be honest, you were fine with that. You can respect honesty and self-awareness. “But, you think this would be enough, Seonghwa? I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

The room began to tilt as you swayed only a bit, nothing too noticeable, but it was enough nausea to concern you. His lips curled as he stared at you, but the hesitation in which he ran his hand through his hair in frustration distracted you.

“I don’t know, little dove, I don’t expect it to be enough. I guess I just needed you to know that I never meant to hurt you like I did, and maybe that’s not enough, but it’s all I have left,” he stared at you. “ I wish things had been different. I really did. But now, I have to go.”

You set the coffee down, your hands clammy and your mouth went dry, the dizziness getting too detrimental for you to concentrate. Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed as he watched you carefully. Too carefully.

“Good luck, Seonghwa,” you said, quiet and sincere. You got up and stepped back from the table, from him. You had to go, you were starting to feel really unwell. “I’m sorry I can’t support you with the path you’re taking. I wish you happiness you couldn’t have with me, I really do.”

“Sweetheart, wait…”

He stood up as well, his eyes searching yours like he was waiting for something more, but there was something else underneath it, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Before he could say something, you turned around towards the door and began to briskly walk away.

Walking away from Seonghwa felt wrong, but what was worse was the growing unease you felt - the same one you did before you even entered the cafe. Your legs were unsteady, you couldn’t even take a step away from the entrance. Black spots began to dance from your vision, it was getting more difficult to stay upright.

You gave in, your body feeling lighter as you felt yourself begin to tumble down the floor, but before you could, steady hands guided you upwards until your head pressed onto a firm chest. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

“S-Seonghwa,” you slurred, leaning further into him against your will just so you couldn’t fall. “W-What’s going on…”

You felt him dig his fingers firmly on your shoulders, not enough to hurt, but enough for him to hold you to your place. He pushes you gently against the wall, tilting your lolling head to his face.

Your blood ran cold. The look in his face told you everything you needed to know. His thumb forcibly opened your lips and the realization hit you so hard it left you reeling - the coffee. You weren’t supposed to feel like this, it wasn’t the anxiety. He smirked, almost smug.

“You were always so wary of me,” he chuckled darkly, leaning in to give you a small peck on the side of your lips before licking the small trail of saliva that pooled outside of your mouth. “I’m surprised it took you this long, I thought you’d see it coming, at least.”

“You…spiked m-my,” you managed to choke out, your breath coming in short gasps.

He didn’t seem alarmed. In fact, there was a calmness to him, as though he had expected this reaction, as though this was all part of his plan. You tried to push him away even though you could barely stand. “Seonghwa, I-I don’t f-feel well,” you admitted.

His smirk fell, genuine concern bleeding onto it as he cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry, love, you were probably just sensitive to it,” he frowned. You hated that you knew what he meant. “Let’s get you to the car—”

“N-No, let go,” your body swayed, until your legs had finally given out on you, your eyes fluttering close.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” his voice was sharp, laced with panic. You felt yourself being lifted bridal-style. You could hear him calling your name over and over. “Come on, baby, don’t give out on me now,” he urged, the desperation in his voice betraying his calm facade.

“Please, I can’t do this alone,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost fragile. “This is the only way. I’ll take care of you, yeah? I want to do right by you. I need you to believe me…”

He was scared. He actually hadn’t meant to go this far.

Everything went black. The last thing you remembered was the sudden pressure of his desperate hands gripping you as if he was afraid that if he let you go that you'd suddenly disappear. His eyes shone with plea, full of panic, as his lips trembled with unspoken words.

When you came to, a dull headache throbbed in the back of your eyes. A sense of disorientation weighed heavily in your chest. The first thing you noticed was that you were sitting upright, your head leaning against a hard, bony surface. A shoulder.

You groaned, trying to remember how you got here, and everything came to you all at once; walking somewhere, the coffee, the nausea, Seonghwa—

Seonghwa.

You groaned, immediately sitting straight and trying to rub your eyes and your head to remove the bleary sleepiness remaining in you, but that wasn’t what caught you off-guard. In fact, fainting in Seonghwa’s arms seemed to be the least of your problems for today.

You froze, your heart leaping to your throat when you saw the cold metal of the handcuff around your wrist. Your hand instinctively tried to pull it away, even going as far as to prying it away with your other hand, but all that did was hurt you, your skin automatically reddening at the friction all the pulling was causing you.

Things just got worse from here then on. You figured that you’d try to pull the source of where your handcuffs were connected to, but to your horror, you realized that the other end was connected to Seonghwa’s own wrist, effectively tying you two together.

He stared at you panicking, his face drawn with exhaustion, but he was watching you closely as everything started to dawn on you. Something cloudy seizes his chest as you look up at him, tears reddening your eyes. His gaze softens, but relief shines through it, nonetheless.

“You’re awake,” he tenderly notes, like he was afraid that you’d get startled and lash out. He leans forward, his hand gingerly holding onto your face to wipe your unfallen tears with his thumb. “Are you okay? Is there anything that hurts? Listen, I know this looks bad, and I get it, but please, give me the chance to explain everything.”

You were stunned speechless, not being able to render opening your mouth to even refute his excuses. Everything was overwhelming, and truth be told, your head still wasn’t fully there. You couldn’t even lean away from Seonghwa’s touch even though you wanted nothing but to spit on his face.

It was one thing to be infuriated with Seonghwa, but more so, you were mad at yourself. How could you be so naïve? How could you be so blatantly stupid as to even meet up with him in the first place and let your guard down?

Your breathing became ragged despite Seonghwa’s gentle attempts to calm you down. You had basically signed your life to him the moment you agreed to meet up with him in the cafe, because this was his plan all along, and you went along with it like a puppet in his sick version of a show.

Trusting Seonghwa was the equivalent of jumping off of a cliff willingly. You had a first-hand taste of how manipulative, how insane, he actually was, and you still went. You couldn’t even afford to feel bad for yourself since you knew that the fault wasn’t fully his own.

You pulled on your wrist, even though it was pointless, but his hand reached across the small space, gently touching your arm. “I never meant for things to go this far,” he explained, his voice strained. “But I need you to understand—”

“Understand what, Seonghwa? You lied to me,” you gritted your teeth, your heart thudding painfully against your chest as you tried to keep more of your tears at bay. “You lied to me, you sick son of a bitch! You said you were going to let me go! I thought the mafia had honour—”

“I know, dove, I know, but honour be damned if I can’t be with you,” he exasperatedly explained, but you weren’t having it.

“What the hell does that even mean? You kidnapped me! I’ve lost count, Seonghwa,” you seethed, pulling on the handcuffs again, but to no avail. That was when you looked around and realized you didn’t know where you were. “Where even are we?”

Seonghwa’s eyes softened and he leaned back in his seat, letting out a slow breath as he tried to gather his thoughts, the handcuffs connected to him slightly pulling on your wrists. “I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, and I’m not trying to make excuses. But I couldn’t just let you go. I couldn’t let you walk away and forget everything we had. I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am.”

“Seonghwa,” you trailed off, not liking where this was going, your lips quivering as you spoke. “You said you were going to let me go.”

“I know what I said,” he said. His voice dropped lower, a touch of vulnerability seeping in. “I can’t let you throw it all away, love. The other week, you said you still loved me, and that you were never going to stop loving me. Tell me, how am I supposed to just leave and forget all about that?”

He sighed, long and heavy, looking you straight in the eye. “How am I supposed to leave my heart, knowing that it still beats for the both of us?”

Your mind raced, thoughts tangled in a whirlwind. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. You’d made your choice. You’d walked away from, finally accepted that you just weren’t meant to be, and that you needed to let go to move on.

He shifted, his gaze never leaving yours, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of something in him—hope.

“We can start over, leave everything once and for all,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “No more games. No more lies. We could just be together with a new life.”

You stopped breathing for a second. “W-What do you mean?”

Seonghwa paused, looking genuinely confused for a second. He was taken aback, it hit him that you actually didn’t know where you were. The silence was what prompted you to actually look at your surroundings. You blinked, finally realizing the real reason why you were sitting down when you woke up.

There is a smooth, unnatural hum of an engine beneath you, vibration so low that you wouldn’t even have noticed it.The plush leather seats you were on and in front of you, the overhead area where carry-on luggages usually went to if they were too big to put on the floor, and the stale smell of uncirculated air around the small space.

You were on a plane. Specifically, Seonghwa’s private jet.

“S-Seonghwa,” you yelped, true fear and panic settling in your chest at the prospect of being trapped here with him.

“You were asleep for half the flight. We’ll be landing in New York in six more hours,” he said quietly.

You repeatedly shook your head in denial, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. Seonghwa just watched you, his expression a mixture of hurt and concern. “I know you’re scared,” he whispered. “I know I hurt you, but I promise I’ll never hurt you again. “

You looked at him, his eyes full of conviction, full of hope. He was sincere. But that only made it harder.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you pulled away slightly, the weight of the handcuff pulling you back.

His face shifted, pain flashing across his features, but he didn’t let go. “Please,” he said, his voice trembling. “Don’t make me lose you again.”

Your hands tugged at the cuffs again, the metal biting into your wrist, but all that did was make him wrap his big hands around yours. “I’m not asking for a second chance,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. “I’m asking for a real chance. A chance to prove that we can make this work. That we can make us work. I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you. And we’ll get through this together.”

You didn’t want to break down in front of him. You didn’t want to show him this vulnerability, this weakness. But you couldn’t stop.

Through your blurry eyes, you saw him with his gaze soft but filled with something else. Pity. It also had helplessness and guilt, as if seeing you break down before him was a painful reminder of how far he had pushed you.

With that, you hunched over your seat and buried your face in your hands as the tears streamed down your face in hot torrents. The sobs came in uncontrollable waves, violent and loud, your chest heaving as if you might suffocate.

You felt Seonghwa’s hand rub your back soothingly, but you didn’t care to push him anymore. It was over. All the fighting you did for your freedom was for absolutely nothing. The weight of that truth pressed down on your chest, suffocating.

You didn’t even try to stop Seonghwa from pulling you from your chair to make you sit on his lap as he hugged you tight, burying your face on the crook of his shoulder as your tears came hard, relentless, spilling down your cheeks as your chest heaved with sobs you couldn’t contain anymore. Your hands trembled as you clutched at his clothes, trying to steady yourself.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said softly as he hushed you with comfort that you didn’t want. “I’ll take care of you. We’ll start over, fall in love with each other all over again. You won’t be a part of the organization if you don’t want it, just please, stay with me.”

Your hysterical cries didn’t stop and all Seonghwa did was comfort you with words - words that he actually meant - but what you didn’t see was the pride and satisfaction written on his face as he stared at your crying form. In his own quiet way, he savored every single moment of it.

And he smiled because he knew - and you knew - that you had nowhere else to go. He won.

You belonged to him now.

𝙽𝚎𝚝s - @keopihaus @dove-net @othersideoutlawsnetwork @hiraya-m @illusionnet @pirateeznet

Dividers by: @cafekitsune and @bernardsbendystraws

323 notes · View notes

neowinestainedress · 2 years ago

Text

HITS DIFFERENT | L.DH

TITLE: hits different

PAIRING: lee haechan x fem!reader | mc’s best friend johnny, haechan’s roommate mark (+ kinda emotional support boy when mc acts like a loser)

GENRE: non-idol au, strangers to friends with benefits to lovers, getting together, smut, angst, fluff | requested | bonus part

SUMMARY: nobody ever got under your skin, not until Haechan came in your life and changed everything.

WARNINGS: smut, protected and unprotected sex (condom first and then mc is on the pill), multiple sex scenes, oral sex, fingering, car sex, riding, fingers sucking, face sitting, rimming, anal, mirror sex, a bit of exhibitionism (as a fantasy), praise, teasing (as in degradation but it’s not hard stuff), handjob, morning sex, kitchen sex, toys (vibrator), overstimulation, (no bdsm but) switchy dynamics, sa doesn’t happen but there are a few references to pushy behaviours, mentions of a past car accident and death of a barely mentioned character | I hope I didn’t forget anything but if I did, let me know! | kinda implied that both haechan and the reader are bi because in this house we only support mxf bi4bi couples (joking… unless) do whatever you want with this information.

WC: 44.804k

TAGLIST: @adorejaehyn @matchahyuck @sundhaelatte @jjhmk @ourbeautifulaffair @what-the-jams @oleoleniall @kundann @bbagu @ismileeprnc-responder @produmads @zkdlllin @yesohhsehun @aliceinwhateverland @strangevante @cas104 @hyuckdreams

A/N: finally writing hyuck as a loser male wife (kinda) my life is complete!!! It’s been months and I’m back with a request, I know it took long to write it but I hope whoever requested will like this. I’m still not sure about the present tense but idk I’m trying out new things. I would really appreciate if you could support my work in any way, feedback makes me happy and motivates me to keep writing. If you can, reblog so it can reach more people or come and chat in the ask box to let me know your opinion! Love you, enjoy!

It was Johnny’s fault. It’s always his fault when things don’t go as planned.

It’s his fault if right now you are jumping around Haechan’s bedroom trying to look for your clothes while the clock is running fast, and you are running late.

It was Johnny’s fault for setting you up with Haechan out of all his friends.

“Can you please help instead of just staring while I slowly transcend into madness?”

Haechan rolls his eyes, still laying in bed, crumpled-up sheets all over his body. “Damn, all of this for a pair of panties?”

“For all my clothes. What the hell did we do last night?” You groan, throwing your head back while another exhausted sigh slips from your lips.

“Don’t know,” he shrugs, shaking his hair out of his face while a small smirk curls his lips, “fucked you so hard you forgot?”

“Shut up!”

Haechan sighs another time, eyes rolling in the back of his skull before he stands up and actually starts helping you find your things. You hear him giggle at your muttered curses under your breath but at least he’s helping, studying the room to put your outfit back together.

But when you finally are done, he doesn’t shut up, he’s not half asleep like he usually is when you sneak out of his place on your tiptoes like a thief.

“You know, I don’t even get it,” he says, crossing his arms, eyes fixated on you even if you can only see him with your peripherical view, too occupied putting your panties back on.

“What?”

“Why you’re always in a rush. I think this is the first time I wake up with you. I don’t bite, you know,” you can hear the sarcasm in his voice and this early in the morning, with those implications, you find it slightly irritating.

You scoff, “I wouldn’t say that.”

“It happened once,” he exhales loudly, a hint of annoyance in his voice, “they looked extra soft.” That’s always his justification when you bring up the one time he bit you during sex, his eyes falling on your chest before you swiftly cover it with your arm.

“Okay, enough. You are a sleepy head and I have things to do, that’s why.”

Yeah, that’s why. It’s got nothing to do with the fact you created a list of rules to follow when you two started this and you would’ve rather got hit by lighting than broken one of those. He doesn’t know it, though. So, your different personalities and lifestyles make up a good excuse.

“Whatever,” he replies, believing in you, slightly disappointed over the fact you implied he’s lazy and sleeps too much. “We could eat break—”

“No!” You scream. “Fuck,” you shout again when in the rush of reacting to his absurd proposal you almost zip your panties — or better the skin of your mound — in the zip of your jeans. “I just told you I’m late.”

Haechan doesn’t get you. He thinks he never will. And you can see it in his eyes and the way he’s looking at you. It makes no sense for you to sweat while you’re dressing up again. He also thinks he knows so little of you and has no faint idea of what you could be late for. But he doesn’t ask. He might not have rules written, but somehow that feels like crossing some of those lines that are in between you like invisible strings.

“My purse, my purse, where the hell is my purse?”

He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes at your panicked eyes that are looking around the room, before he responds nonchalantly, “Couch, probably. You always throw it there.”

You quirk a brow. Always? Are you picking up habits? You scroll that out of your mind and run a hand through your hair — the flat press that now looks like a mess — before walking past him. It’s so irritating to have him there while you have to escape.

“Why are you following me?” You ask exhausted, turning around to meet him standing right behind you; you’re face to face, and considering he spent half of the night inside you, you shouldn’t find it so weird to have him so close, but it is, so you take a step back.

“’Cause this is my house?”

You huff, “yeah, of course.” Your purse is on the couch where you always throw it, and you’re quick to grab it before heading to the door.

“Are you sure you don’t —”

“No, gotta go. Bye. See ya,” you stop him, waving a last goodbye with a barely visible movement of the hand.

The door closes behind you and you finally start breathing normally again.

This is all Johnny’s fault.

It was Johnny’s fault.

If only he didn’t drag you out that night with the lame excuse that you needed to unwind and meet new people.

It wasn’t totally wrong. Let’s say you aren’t the best at making decisions, especially romantically, and you were still caught up with your ex... or whatever he was. You two weren’t together anymore, technically. Practically? Well…

But you didn’t want to start a new thing, your ex was traumatic, no matter how good the sex was (it wasn’t even that good, currently he’s the only one you can get sex from without having to hold boring conversations with a drink in hand and spend the ride back to their place hoping you didn’t end up in the arms of a killer) he was an asshole.

“Can you please don’t run, I can’t keep up with you,” you scream, trying to reach your best friend, Johnny, hurrying in your steps, praying you won’t break your ankles.

“You still insist to wear those heels when you can’t walk in them,” he jokes, laughing at you, watching you huff and bend over to catch your breath.

“It’s not them, it’s you for being so tall, why do you take such big steps?”

Johnny only rolls his eyes before pointing at the bar door with his head, “Should we head in? Need me to carry you or your small legs can drag you inside?”

You frown, glaring at him, “I hate you.”

Johnny smiles, handing out his arm so you can intertwine it with yours and then you step in.

The inside of the bar is cosy, the brown of the wood and the shelves make it warmer, and the music playing in the background is a nice company sound that won’t overshadow the talks. You don’t have time to look around much more, Johnny’s hand swiftly wraps around your wrist, and then he starts dragging you somewhere, and you can only activate your brain again to focus on him if you don’t want to fall in the middle of the place like a bag of potato.

“Dude, you finally made it, you’re late.” A boy you don’t know exclaims from the table and your eyes follow the line of five heads sitting next to him.

“Sorry, it was her fault,” Johnny says. Lies, cause you were on time, he picked you up late, making you wait ten minutes under your complex’s porch.

You are about to complain but suddenly all the eyes are on you, and you are too conscious about it to do anything else other than stare back at them with an awkward shy smile and a small wave of your hand.

“He picked me up late,” you still manage to babble out cause there’s no way that will be the first impression of you. You surely have some flaws — many flaws, Johnny would say — but being late it’s not one of them.

“Yeah, we know,” another one replies, glaring at your friend.

“Haechan,” Johnny replies with a scowl to him, and you try to note to yourself that’s his name. “Move, we need to sit, too.”

You wouldn’t have minded sitting at the far end of the bench, not even if you were at risk of falling down every two seconds. It would’ve been better than being squeezed between Johnny and Haechan. But even if the position is not the best, once again because Johnny takes too much space, after more than an hour you got along with all of his friends, you learned that most of them were dating, or busy with something, so you couldn’t quite get why Johnny brought you there. The fear that it was his way to confess to you and screw up twenty years of friendship got your skin crawling for a second, but when you were left alone with the black-haired man to your right, it all made sense.

“So, how do you know Johnny?” You ask, turning around to look at him while a small smile curls your lips.

Haechan smiles, or smirks, it’s almost a chuckle, you can’t quite describe it. “At the gym.”

“At the gym?”

He rolls his eyes, swiftly licking his lips, and lifting his hands up in defence, “I tried, okay? It’s just not for me.”

“Oh, no, sorry if it came off rudely,” you apologise. “You didn’t seem interested when they talked about it before so…”

“Cause I’m not,” he laughs wholeheartedly, and his face softens, making you take a breath of relief, well, good, you didn’t fuck it up for once. “We got close soon and then we started knowing each other out of that hell.”

You laugh at the way he talks about the gym, not that you disagreed, Johnny tried more than once to drag you there but you’re loyal to your Saturday and Sunday morning runs outside or on your treadmill.

His eyes fall on yours again, and he briefly studies your features before speaking again, “What about you?”

“Oh, he was actually my brother’s best friend, then they fought, and we became inseparable. My brother is still mad but that’s not my fault.”

Haechan laughs even though a frown hardens his features for a second, something about your tone seemed off for a split moment, but he shrugs it off and tries to joke about it, “Usually that ends with dating.”

Your eyes widen and your head moves from side to side. “Oh, hell no.”

“Johnny’s a dream for a lot of people.”

“Yeah, we’re fine as friends,” you confirm again, the mere idea of seeing Johnny as something else making your stomach convulse. You are sure he’s a perfect boyfriend, husband even, to somebody else.

“Oh, already taken?”

“No, we’re friends, he’s my soulmate in another way. And I don’t do love.”

Haechan stares at you, his eyes moving on your face, the small nervous twitching of the corner of your lips, and the frenetic playing of your fingers with the crumbs on the table. “No?”

“It’s just not for me. Not in a…” you stop, trying to find the words. You don’t have a reason, you just never fell deeply for someone. You surely care for people, and you love your friends, but your relationships never left a deep mark on you. You’re fine with yourself. “I’m good on my own.”

“Bad experiences?” He tries to guess, thinking he’s going to hit the target.

You shake your head, sipping on the glass of alcohol and emptying it. “No, I’ve always been like this. I think nobody made a mess of me to leave me hooked on them.”

He chuckles, and something crosses his face but you don’t catch it, it looks like the smirk of before with a glint in his eyes, but it’s too quick, and you don’t know him at all to read his micro-expressions that well.

“You?” You ask, feeling a push of curiosity that makes you want to learn more about him. His lips move, but you have no time to carry on the conversation since the others arrived.

Back then you didn’t know where that night would’ve led you. You had no idea that the person that would’ve made a mess of you was right there by your side. But of one thing you can be sure, it was Johnny’s fault.

You’re sure that night nothing clicked between you and Haechan; whatever Johnny had in mind, didn’t happen. You two didn’t even exchange numbers, you can’t even remember if you said a proper goodbye to him when you stumbled out of that restaurant hanging from your best friend’s arm.

Whatever led you here started a few weeks after, probably even a month later, when Haechan had already slipped out of your mind, long forgotten, categorized with those people that if you saw somewhere you were sure you already knew, but couldn’t remember when, why, and how.

But with him, that didn’t happen. When your eyes met again you felt something. He looked different, probably it was the black hair framing his face perfectly, some make-up on his face too, or the leather jacket he was wearing and the chains around his neck. You remembered him, clear as the sky. But he was even hotter, attracting you without saying a word, not that you would’ve heard. You were at a club, and he was leaning against the bar on the other side of you. But his eyes were speaking louder than words, and your feet followed an invisible path that got you right there, on the stool next to him.

“Look who’s alive,” Haechan jokes, looking at you up and down, eyes lingering for a bit longer on your exposed thighs, the pink skirt you’re wearing giving him a good view of your skin.

You chuckle, “why would I be dead?”

He shrugs, before calling the bartender and ordering you a drink. “Don’t know, you disappeared,” he whispers, looking at you.

“I didn’t know we wanted to keep contact,” you say, meeting his gaze and drifting away immediately, it’s a subtle movement, enough to make it seem like the stocked bottles of different types of liquor are more interesting than him. You never react like that, there’s something different in the air tonight and you’re not sure you want to get drunk on that feeling.

“You’re right,” he whispers, and your legs brush for an instant as he sits better on the stool. “I find you interesting, so I was looking forward to seeing you again.”

“Really? After a five-minute talk, I already have that effect on you?” You tease, staring into his brown eyes while you sip on the drink that arrived.

“You talked all night, to be honest. You seem fun to be with,” he defends himself, but you see in the way he acts that he’s confident, your teasing didn’t make him uncomfortable or anything, and you don’t know where your bickering-flirting method is going to take you. “You’re friends with Jonny, after all.”

You shake your head, placing the glass down, and then fix your skirt. “So following your logic you should be charming and attractive too?”

He lifts a hand to stop you, “Never called you charming or attractive, do you think that of me, honey? Want me to think you are?”

You’re stunned and a bit taken aback because you weren’t expecting that answer, and you don’t even expect your body to light on fire. It’s not really about the words, it’s the way he gets you, like nobody ever did before, like you want him to get you, to keep up with you. And it’s also in the way his body talks, it’s addictive, it is charming, the small fidgeting of the fingers, the bounce of his legs while his legs are a bit spread open and his thighs are perfectly wrapped by those jeans that make you want to do unholy things, and his eyes, that taunting, witty light and the grin on his face.

You shake your head when you realize that you still didn’t come up with an answer, too lost in his details to think about a comeback, and you’d like to die when his melodious laugh resonates from his chest.

“Should we order another one to ease the tension?” He doesn’t give you time to fall down into the deep end of your regrets and embarrassment, he’s smiling at you tenderly, and you smile back.

There’s something different in the air, and you’re sure about it, just like you feel more and more like you shouldn’t get drunk on that feeling.

But you don’t have a choice when the night drags longer and you’re no longer sitting at the bar but you’re dancing in a corner of the club with his hands all over you. You don’t know how you got there, words turned into teasing, teasing turned into something bigger you didn’t know how to deal with (he is good with words), and to bear with them you thought dancing would’ve drawn his quirky remarks out, but Haechan was also good with his body, and once he had you wrapped around him, you didn’t know how to stop.

You had lost sight of Johnny, but you couldn’t care about him. Technically you had to go home with him, but you weren’t sure you wanted to.

“Fuck, girl,” he whispers, “you’re good at this.”

You roll your eyes, but a laugh rolls out from your chest. “Don’t call me girl, it sounds so condescending and you sound like a creep.”

“Sorry, prefer other pet names, or is your name fine?”

“My name is fine.” Your name should’ve been a neutral thing to keep him away from your heart, at least — even if he actually isn’t, he is already deep inside your panties by now. But unfortunately, even the way your name rolls out of his lips makes your heart lose a beat. But you blame it on the night, on the alcohol, and on the fact he’s teasing you, whispering it right next to your ear as if he’s casting a spell on you.

You need to breathe some fresh air because Haechan is becoming too much. He was already all over you and you aren’t used to this.

When you open the door of the bar and lean against the wall, the cold of the night envelops you before his warmth washes over you again.

He doesn’t talk, though. Even if your eyes are closed you can feel he is staring at your face, fearfully at your lips while they puff out white clouds of air.

“Should we take this home?” Those words seem so loud in the quiet of the night, just a few cars passing by and some people stumbling out of the club.

You don’t reply, your head turns around to stare at him; he’s serious, partially drunk, but serious. And you are in desperate need of a good fuck. Well, you hope it will be a good one, or probably no, maybe you wish it will be terrible so you can rant about it with Johnny and he will make sure you and Haechan never cross paths again. But right now, you’re not thinking with your brain, and you want him, hoping it will be good, and who knows, maybe you can find your perfect distraction.

“Your place?” You ask straightforwardly, meeting his eyes.

“Oh, Mark’s at home,” he says, “my roommate.”

You sigh, you can’t take him home either. “Well,” you say, rubbing your neck and looking away, “maybe next time, then.”

“Wait,” he stops you by a hand, “have you ever done it in a car?”

No, you haven’t, and soon you also find out why you’ve never done it.

“Will you please stop cursing?” Haechan rasps, pulling your panties down, trying to block your leg from kicking him in the face.

“I don’t think this is the best place we could — fuck,” the words die in your mouth when, after rolling his eyes and gutturally groaning to shut up, his lips close around your pussy. It’s a harsh suck on your clit that gets you silent, head rolling back on the backseat. You think that he might be uncomfortable kneeling between your legs, halfway down and halfway up in the space between the front and back seats, but you honestly don’t care, that’s his problem for choosing this out of all the places, not that you had a better alternative, at least the car is clean, unlike the club bathroom.

It’s not the first impression people would go crazy to have about themselves, but fuck, Haechan’s good at this. It’s like he has a mission, and probably that’s to make you come in the shortest possible time.

“Why are you so loud?” You ask. It’s not a complaint, you like hearing him moan against your skin, and as embarrassing as they should be, you enjoy the slurp sounds he’s making while his mouth keeps working wonders on you. But your pleasure-haltered voice doesn’t come out how it sounds in your brain and Haechan growls in annoyance.

“Why are you still talking?” He scolds, pulling away from you, and the sight of his face covered in your wetness makes your stomach twist and your hips buck searching for more. You need him back right where he was, immediately. “Good, these are the only reactions I want from you,” he comments mockingly with a snotty grin on his face before he leans down and resumes where he stopped.

This time no more words but curses and moans come out of your mouth. Your head falls back slack, and your fingers graze the backseats of his car, trying to hold onto something as the knot in your stomach tightens more with every lick on your sensitive core.

“Taste so good,” he hums against you, his hands push your legs up for what he can, and his fingers dip into your soft skin, gripping strongly to keep you in place. The cold of the rings adorning his digits makes you shiver and you’d do anything to have them inside you, but it feels so good that you can’t even beg for that, too focused on what he’s already doing with his lips and tongue.

“Haechan,” you whisper when he quickens his movements and parts your lips more, starting to also tease your entrance with his tongue and making you feel more exposed. You should be more bothered about the cars — and people — passing next to you in the parking spot, but given by your whimpers and moans, it’s clear you don’t care. Truthfully, it’s like you have completely forgotten where you are, not even the painful reminder of the safety belt’s buckle pressing right against your ribcage seems to remind you that you’re in public and anyone could hear — and for now see too, since the windowpanes aren’t fogged by the heat of your bodies yet.

“Mhh, mhh,” he sings in response, opening his eyes to meet yours, looking at you with so much intensity you feel your knees tremble and your thighs close around his head. “No, no, no, babe, let me do my job.”

You groan; the teasing, almost condescending, tone of his voice fuels a fire in you, and the orgasm chokes you up. You curse when your climax breaks through your body and leaves you gasping for air while Haechan continues pleasuring you through your high. His hands cup your ass, kneading it, while his tongue plays with your extra sensitive pussy for some more before he pulls away and stares at the mess between your legs with a proud, playful smirk curling his reddened and puffy lips.

“So, was it worth it for you, spoiled princess?”

You scoff, brushing your hair back and some sweat off your forehead, while you try to close your legs because suddenly you feel too exposed to him. “You can’t deny the car is a shitty place.”

He laughs and then shakes his head. “So shitty you can’t take some more for me?” He tilts his head, raising his brows while he briefly looks down where his hands are patiently waiting for your good to go and get out of his pants.

“If you’re also so good with your dick I think I can take being cramped up in a sardine can some more,” you joke, struggling to sit up because your legs feel like jelly and you can’t believe he made you feel that good with his tongue only. Your first time together? And it looked like he genuinely loved giving oral? Was all this luck a sign of something tragic imminent?

You scroll your thoughts out of your mind when you feel the sound of the belt unbuckling and his jeans hitting the floor of the car.

“Fucking worst idea ever,” he curses as he realizes that he can’t fuck you with the denim mid-thigh.

“I told you,” you retort, and you’d be entertained to watch him curse and struggle some more, pondering if he should just get rid of his shoes too and be naked while anyone could knock on your window and signal you to the police, but you want him too badly and you can’t wait any longer, so you propose a thing, “Sit here, I’ll ride.”

His eyes light up and you can see the weight being lifted off his chest as he nods and promptly sits in the middle seat. You stare in silence as he pushes the boxers down his legs too before grabbing a condom and rolling it down his length. You could cry because also his dick looks perfect for now, and you don’t go around saying it often, but it’s literally the perfect size, it won’t hurt you and yet it will fill you amazingly, you just know.

“Enchanted?” He tsk with a bragging tone, winking while he runs his fingers through his hair.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head, but your pussy clenching is your honest reaction, he’s too hot and uses it to his advantage a bit too often, he can’t keep getting away with it. So, you go on with your lie, trying to appear unfazed, you shake your head and climb on top of him, luckily you decided to go for the mini skirt and not the long pants tonight, so you don’t have access problems. You move your hand to grab the base and lift your hips, only when you feel his tip prod at your entrance you start sinking.

“Oh, shit,” you moan and your head rolls back when you bottom down completely. You don’t move right away, letting yourself get used to his — in fact — perfect girth and length, feeling his hands wrap around your waist to keep you from falling clumsily.

Haechan lets out a shaky moan too, and his eyes are closed still when you lift your head and focus on his face, but they snap open when you start moving on him.

“Fuck, eager?” He groans, biting his lips to don’t be too loud, not that it would do anything when you’re moving so fast on him, your ass smacking hard against his thighs, the sounds filling the vehicle.

“Wanted to fuck you since I saw you standing at the bar,” you confess nonchalantly, and he thinks you can’t be real, but he has no time to dwell on you and the way you are because you’re taking his breath away. He can’t even lie, he wanted you too since the same moment, if not since the very first night, so having you here feels a bit unreal.

“You’re so hot,” he whispers, eyes moving on your body, watching your boobs bounce with every thrust through the skimpy top, and your thighs, fuck your thighs, he wants to squeeze them and hold them, and so he does, moving his hands there and massaging the flesh, eliciting more moans from your parted lips.

Your hands clench on his shoulders, your nails dig into his skin, and he lets out a groan but it surprises you when you realize it’s a moan of pleasure and not pain. Your lips twitch in a smirk before your tongue runs on them. “Like the pain?”

He glares at you, moving his left hand on your ass, slapping it harshly, smirking in victory when a choked moan falls from your lips and your cunt clenches around him. “You too, it seems,” he winks.

“Fucker,” you slur out, narrowing your brows, and picking up a different rhythm, grinding your hips on him with force to distract him from your right hand creeping on his neck until it reaches his hair and pulls at it with a tug.

“Shit,” he moans, thighs flexing under you at the unexpected wave of pleasure he feels rushing through his bones. “I hate you.”

You don’t reply, you don’t need to, it’s clear he doesn’t, and he’s loving it. So, you give him more, leaning in to leave small bites on his neck and collarbones. You don’t let your teeth sink in his golden sink much, your goal is not to leave ugly blooms of purple and red for everyone to see, you want to feel the shivers on his skin and the hisses hitting your earlobe every time you graze his sensitive skin.

You pull back with a cuss when another smack lands on your other asscheek, and Haechan chuckles darkly at your surprised face.

“What, babe? It’s the art of giving and receiving,” he says, trying to sound cocky but his breaths are short and he’s clearly fighting himself back to let out all the moans you’re eliciting from him.

You groan, and you almost lean in to kiss him, you don’t think it through, your body moves on its own but right when your lips are about to crash you stop, seeing eye to eye. “I hope you’re having fun, then,” you retort, but your voice is shaky — he blames it on the sex — and your heart is almost pumping out of your ribcage, but he doesn’t notice, he doesn’t even notice your trembling hand as you try to fight off the anxiety that being so close to him, to his lips, to his eyes, gives you.

“So much fun,” he snorts, pulling you closer to him by the waist and you have to pull back swiftly, gasping for air. The car feels suffocating, and when you turn around for a split second you can’t see what’s outside, glasses steamed up.

“Worried about people that could see us?” He teases you, bringing your attention back on him with his thumb on your clit, smirking proudly when your eyes widen and your thighs tremble, and you have no idea how you’re — not only supporting your body up — but still fucking him.

“Worried about going home with a corpse in the car,” you mutter when he starts moving his finger on your clit, and presses his hand on the small of your back, and you can almost feel the metal meld in your skin for how hot your body is.

“Want to kill me? After the best fuck of your life?” He pouts, starting to move up into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“You wish,” you spit out, but oh god if he’s right.

“Then I guess you’re not gonna come.” He forces you still down on him, the strong grip on your waist almost painful.

“What?” Your eyes snap open, and your hands have to hold onto his shoulder because your legs can’t hold you up by themselves anymore.

“Changed your mind? It’s good?”

You groan, throwing your head back when he resumes the strokes. “It is good, I just want to slap you for no reason.” Because you are too good, and I might already be addicted and I don’t like how this sounds.

Haechan grins, loving the way you look like a mess in his arms but still talk back and do anything to pretend that it’s not that good. He’s getting off to that, your blissed face, your low, needy moans, your trembling thighs, and your dripping wet pussy making a mess around him. He’s getting off to you, and your stubbornness that makes all your weaknesses so fucking attractive.

“Haechan,” you slur out, letting your head fall on his shoulder while your whole body tenses up. You don’t warn him, the orgasm runs through you before you can even process it, and Haechan doesn’t need words anyway because your cunt clenching around him and your nails digging into his back again trigger his own release too. Your moans blend together and bounce around the car while your hips move in messy thrusts for a while more before coming to a stop, slowly letting the quiet of the night around you slip into the car and remind you two what you had just done.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, forcing your torso up, and gulping while you look around and hope you weren’t too lost in the pleasure and didn’t hear police sirens or something.

“Don’t worry, nobody ever walks around here,” Haechan chuckles, watching the expression on your face change into confusion, leaving the fear behind. “Why do you think I always park here if it’s free?”

“Oh,” you whisper. “So, you bring a lot of people here. Nice to know,” your comment is sarcastic but you can’t deny the small veil of pettiness and jealousy behind it.

“Honestly?” He says, shutting down a moan of disappointment when your body leaves his, and you try to look for your purse to find tissues to clean yourself. “I never brought anybody here, not for sex at least.”

You shouldn’t be relieved, but you are, and you shouldn’t. So you shrug it off and turn around after you pushed the dirty tissue into the empty envelope that used to contain it before. “And for what then?”

“Occasional smoking weed sessions,” he confesses. “When one of my older friends used to drive me and my roommate here, and we escaped those nights with some other friends. I’m not saying nobody ever passes by, but trust me, they don’t care ‘cause they probably will do the same.”

You hum before staring at the door handle as if it will open on its own.

“Want me to drop you home? It got late,” Haechan asks now that he’s finally put together again and looks at least decent, the flush on his face is still there and his hair is a mess, but he’s covered.

You shake your head and bite your thumb before your hand lays on the handle. “No, Johnny will drop me home.”

“Okay, great. Are you alright?”

You laugh and look at him with a grin on your face. “Playing boyfriend after you fucked me next to a wood?”

“Oh, shut up!” He yells, pushing you out, and then following you. “Just wanted to check.”

“Well, I can walk on my knees, so I guess I’m fine, thank you for your concern, Mr perfect dick.”

Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes and walking to the other side, opening the driver’s door and getting halfway in. “Fuck you, Miss I’m not fucking in a car.”

“Goodnight to you, too, Haechannie. It was lovely making a new acquaintance,” you joke, and you can’t hold back the smile when he starts the car and drives away all while holding his middle finger up for you to see after sending you a flying kiss.

When you turn around and hug yourself in your jacket to shield yourself from the cold, you curse at your first step.

You very much can’t walk without looking like you just learnt how to stand on your feet.

“Fuck you, Lee Haechan.”

The rules aren’t exactly written anywhere in your house, it would’ve been weird if someone ever entered and found your ‘10 things to don’t do with your fuckbuddy’, not that many people are allowed in your apartment. That is another of your thousands of unwritten rules, it’s not like you don’t have friends, you are pretty chatty with everyone and get to know people easily, but your house is your safe place, and only a few are allowed in. Haechan isn’t one of that. It isn’t because you aren’t close with each other, by now it had been six months since you started this and well, you got to know each other pretty deeply, but you are terrified that your rules aren’t his.

You know how to move when you go to his place, you have your ways to don’t turn this amazing sex into a catastrophe of broken hearts and shed tears; the rules are simple and clear in your mind.

Rule number 1: never sleep over.

Sleeping in the same bed is romantic. Even when there are no feelings involved, even when no ‘I love yous’ can slur out of someone’s mouth.

Sleeping in the same bed is dangerous.

You can appear a bit cold and distant, but unfortunately, you aren’t. And as much you tell yourself to don’t catch feelings, you may never know what happens when you fall asleep side by side and two arms start keeping you warm. Sure, you could sleep in the same bed and still stay away from each other, but what if… yeah, you don’t even like to think about the possibility of things that aren’t in your plans to happen.

Better safe than sorry.

But that rule doesn’t last long. Haechan is a little too good and you always finish a little too late, so most of the time either your legs don’t allow you to stand on your feet (let alone drive back home), or it is too late and there are no more buses.

So, rule number 1 became what used to be rule number 2: if you by mistake sleep over, leave before he wakes up.

This one is pretty easy to follow. Haechan is more gone than you in the morning and as soon as you hear the first ring of your alarm you are on your feet, ready to go on with your routine. Washing your face, fixing your hair, and finding your clothes so you could be out of there as soon as possible. You would’ve dealt with the other hygienic things back at home. You often thought about carrying a small bag with you with your toothbrush, a towel, and some other things, but that felt too domestic. Even if you had to bring it from home, the idea of brushing your teeth at his place, washing your hair, taking a shower, and walking around his house with only a bathrobe, made shivers run down your spine. Too romantic.

Rule number 3: never invite him over.

It’s not only for sex-related problems, it’s also because you don’t want him to get too deep into you. You had spent a lot of time to make this house your home, and you are sure that if you let him in after the doorstep, he would’ve got to know you, and you don’t want that to happen. You are close, but not too close, and you want to maintain the line clear.

Rule number 4: no kisses.

Strictly no kisses outside of the bed. Your initial rule included also kisses inside of the bedroom — or whatever surface he fucked you against — but after the first kiss he stole from you, well, screw another rule. It is also quite impossible when, for some reason, you two got so primal with each other. It isn’t a fucking session with him if you don’t spend at least five minutes making out while your hands roam each other’s bodies leaving marks behind. Embarrassing, you think every time those flashbacks assault your mind when you are out of the sex haze.

Rule number 5: keep it private.

This also was never spoken but it seemed like Haechan got it too. It isn’t to protect the relationship or some other bullshit, you simply can’t stand people’s opinions about you and your life. Also, what is the point of people knowing you two fucked? That’s too personal and invasive. You don’t want to deal with their comments or their misunderstanding of your and Haechan’s friendship. After all, you two are friends before anything else and you act like friends, but as soon as people know something more is going on, their first brilliant idea is to make up crazy theories of how you two look like such a hot couple and would be perfect together.

And then there are some more, random rules you make up along the way every time you feel he is crossing some lines or you are.

It might seem strange that there’s no rule implying not falling in love, right? Well, it’s not in your brain because you never even thought that could happen. You’re not even sure you ever loved the people you dated, how could you fall for your friend with benefits?

Unfortunately, it never crossed your mind that they are not Haechan.

You’re not sure when it all started. What you’re sure about is that you never planned for anything to start. The fuck in the car had been, unfortunately, really good, but you truly believed you could live without his dick. But maybe there was something else of him you couldn’t live without, and you had no idea about it yet.

“So, uhm, you know Haechan, right?” Johnny mutters in a low voice while you two are walking back home after you convinced him to go out for a run with you instead of going to the gym.

You sip from your cup of coffee and stare at him with a question mark painted all over your face, is he dumb? “Mhh, yeah, you got us in touch?”

“Like him?”

The coffee almost spurts out of your mouth, but you still try to keep your composure and only choke silently on the sip that you’re swallowing. “He seems like a cool guy.”

Johnny snorts, “A cool guy, really?”

“What do you want me to say? I barely know him.” You don’t like the smirk that crosses your friend’s face, you know what kind of grin it is, the smirk of a man that has a plan you know nothing about, and you don’t like not being aware of what is going on. “Johnny?”

“Well, you could get to know him better?”

Your eyebrow rises and you almost stop walking, your brain running too fast trying to keep up with your friend’s bullshit. “What do you mean?”

“He asked if I could give him your number, wanted to be sure it was okay with you.”

“He asked about me?”

Johnny hums, slurping loudly on his straw. Aren’t straws banned? Why does this place still sell them? Just so he can get on your nerves? You are brought out of your straw-hatred thoughts when he speaks again.

“Told me you talked the other night.”

“Talked,” you snort before coughing. “I mean, the music was loud, and we could barely make a conversation, but yes, he seems… fine.”

“He seemed interested.”

“Well, give him my number, I’m sure he won’t text me anyway.”

You got Haechan wrong. So many times actually, because every time you expected he would do something, he would always surprise you by doing the opposite and you weren’t sure it was a good thing.

When you got home after parting your ways with Johnny, the last thing you were expecting was to get out of the shower and see the notification on your phone from an unknown number.

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx hi, it’s haechan. guess you remember me cause johnny gave me your number

thanks for giving him the consent btw

we were so busy last night that we didn’t think about this

You hate to admit it, but you stare at the phone a little too long, why is he so polite about it? Damn, is your bar set so low? Is it really that bad that 90% of the men you met would’ve sent you a dick pic as the first message or a ‘what would you if I was in the shower with you’ text? Probably it is.

You quickly shake your head, biting your thumb, and get up from the bed, swearing because you already left a wet patch on the duvet.

“I can’t answer naked,” you whisper, opening the chat and already thinking about what to reply. “I mean, it could come in handy if he asks for nudes but… what the fuck am I talking about?” You curse before throwing the locked phone in the middle of the bed and rushing to the closet to grab some new clothes.

When you’re all done, in black sweatpants and a white long-sleeve shirt, hair dry, and skincare applied, you slump on the bed and face what has a big chance of becoming your new toy.

you hi! yes i can’t really forget you

“Oh, jesus, are you kidding me? That’s cheesy. He will never get that I mean I can’t forget about his fingers, tongue, and cock, right?” You huff, throwing your head back, trying to think of something else.

you hi! yes i remember

“There, so we don’t sound like a pathetic loser,” you hum happily, pressing send. And with that, you might’ve avoided that, but he’s trying to win the race of the best pathetic losers because he replies in less than a minute.

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx great, feared you forgot about me again

anyway, how are you?

You stare at the phone, not because you want to make him wait — you really couldn’t get those tricks, truly sure that if somebody is interested in you they won’t disappear or appear based on how fast or slow you reply — you’re truly shocked because, damn, a small taste of you and he is already a sore loser, and you’re not ready for a half-assed small talk conversation.

Your fingers start typing anyway.

you good, went on a run with j

you?

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx stayed humble and played with some of my friends

“Oh, he’s a gamer? That’s why he’s good with his fingers,” you let out before you can think of what you’re saying, and also ask yourself since when you started talking to yourself so much. Maybe Johnny is right, being alone is fucking you up.

you did you win?

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx of course, babe

do you know whom you’re talking to?

A loser.

You think but you don’t write it.

A loser.

You think of yourself when reading the message, you can hear his honey-like voice whisper ‘babe’ to your ear and your core starts throbbing as if she’s been left starving for years.

you haha hope you had fun

Dammit. Since when do you suck so much at holding a conversation? Why aren’t you flirting back? Wait, is he flirting?

Another groan leaves your lips as you plunge even southern on the bed and lock the phone again, hoping he lost interest in you after that dry-ass message and you can go back to your toys and your ex — update, the sex ranking fell down after Haechan, he wasn’t even good for that anymore.

But Haechan surprises you, he always does. When your phone dings again you expect to find Johnny congratulating you for being a dumb bitch but instead your jaw falls on the floor.

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx sure did

btw

can i take you out tomorrow? johnny told me you stop working at twelve on friday so it shouldn’t be a problem

dinner out? i’ll come to pick you up at 7

“What the fuck?” Your attempt at don’t look like a crazy single 40 years old woman that fell into madness by being only surrounded by her cats didn’t last long. “What the actual fuck?”

Is that a date? He asked you how you’re doing for some sort of niceties before dropping the question just like that? Why is Johnny so nosy going around telling your business — mental note; talk to Johnny about shutting his mouth.

you fine but i can drive there

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx no dw, it’s a surprise, i’ll drive you

you thanks, i promise i won’t make you wait

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx can’t wait to see you 😊

You snort, fucking loser, before going to his contact.

‘pathetic loser’ was added to contacts.

Haechan surprises you even on your first date, or whatever you could call that. As sweet as he seems, you deep down — precisely between your legs — hope it is a dick appointment, but since you aren’t with your car you aren’t so sure about that, he for sure isn’t entering your place that night.

You are punctual, already waiting for him outside of your house, and immediately entering on the passenger side when he stops on the sidewalk.

“Am I late?” Haechan asks when he sees you step in so promptly.

“No. Why wait, though? See that the first time it was Johnny’s fault?”

Haechan chuckles before giving you a brief look, studying your red dress, the heels, and the small bag, and then starts the car again. “It’s always Johnny’s fault.”

Yeah, you totally agree.

“So, where are we going?” You ask, hating the silence that’s filling the car. After the small talks, you stopped conversating, and even if it wasn’t awkward you didn’t want your brain to travel to places.

“I told you, it’s a surprise.”

“I don’t really like surprises,” you confess, turning your gaze to him, leaving the city behind you.

“Damn, you bite back,” he whispers, and you blink in surprise.

“Am I too honest?”

“Don’t know, I don’t know you yet.”

You think for a second that you should end this as soon as possible, he seems too sweet and even if you don’t do it on purpose, you know you can come off as too edgy at times. Not everyone likes being told things to their faces or having set boundaries they couldn’t cross, but you mean no harm, you just want your space protected.

“It wasn’t supposed to come out harshly, I’m sorry,” you say, trying to meet his eyes and when he stops at the traffic lights, he turns to stare at you. “It was kinda a ‘get to know me’ information and I sounded like a bitch.”

Haechan laughs, shaking his head, fingers tapping on the wheel, probably to release the tension in his muscles. “I wasn’t offended, I just wasn’t expecting you to be so upfront. People… lie.”

“I hate liars,” your voice comes out just like before and you curse under your breath.

“Another ‘get to know me’ information?” He questions, his voice playful while a gentle smile curls his lips.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “Add it to the list, it might be helpful if you don’t want to end up on my blacklist.”

The biggest surprise Haechan gifts you is that… he is not an asshole.

You expected he would say something during dinner to make your pussy dry, brain dead and stomach convulsing with the urge of puking, but… he didn’t. Nothing dumb, insensitive, tone-deaf, cringy, or creepy came out of his mouth.

Even when he flirted, he knew how to do it right. He was so fucking good at it, being so subtle he left you speechless and warm, making you dizzy, and, after the tenth eyebrow rise and lick of his lips, even wet.

And he was funny. Quickly going down the memory lane you could recall that the only man that genuinely made you smile so much was Johnny.

And well, you’re not quite sure how to feel about this.

The only thing you feel is the disappointment when he drops you back home and you know you won’t get a good fuck out of that — amazing — night.

“So, did you have a great time?” He asks, rubbing his hands together to warm them while he turns his torso to stare at you, and you see his eyes linger on you a bit more, probably wanting to take in for the last time how beautiful you looked that night, not that he ever stopped reminding you.

“Yeah,” you whisper, almost shily. “It was fun, and the food was so good.” Yeah, the food. Not you. Absolutely not you. Never you.

Haechan smiles, nodding. “Glad you had fun; I’ve never been there, so it was a shot in the dark.”

“Mhh,” you hum, staring at his lips, thinking how badly you want them on you before shaking your head. “It was a good shot in the dark.”

“Yeah, sometimes I don’t make a mess,” he jokes, and you let out a laugh too. Good for you, you think. You always make a mess, no matter how hard you try to avoid it.

“Well, it’s… kinda late,” you start saying, rubbing your arms with your palms, and tapping your heels, hoping he would make a move and drive you to his place, as if he could mentally get you and know that you’re insane and there are only five people that can set foot in your house.

��Yeah,” he mumbles, looking at you. Probably thinking the same, it’s only logical for him to expect you to be the one to make the first move, your place is right behind you, and you only have to ask him to go inside. But you don’t. And he doesn’t even think about kissing you, of course, he doesn’t, you didn’t even let him kiss you while he was fucking you, he’s sure you would slap him if he only moved closer now.

“‘Kay,” you sigh, undoing the belt and placing your hand on the handle, “I’ll go in. Thanks for the night, the drive, the food, and the laughs.” A tender smile is sitting on your face when you say that to him before making your way out, bending to say goodbye again, just in time to get the thin veil of slight disappointment and sadness in his eyes.

“That’s what matters,” he smiles. “We can do this again. If you want to,” he adds, panicking, almost as if he had asked to marry you just to regret it two seconds later.

“Yeah, we can,” you smile. “It’s pretty chilly out here, so,” you shrug, “goodnight?”

“Can’t wait to see you again, then. Goodnight,” he says before waving at you.

You see he waits for you to get inside before his car starts again to head home and you find yourself grinning like a fool when the door closes behind you.

Yeah, he’s definitely a loser.

You could call that the start of your friendship, but surely not where the benefits started. Actually, the whole sex thing took a toll for a few weeks where you only got to know each other and hung out casually. You can’t lie, you were sad about it, and you thought you screw it all up that night when you didn’t let him in; nothing could’ve gone wrong for one time you let him in, right? He would’ve fucked you into the weekend, making you see heaven, and then you could’ve kicked him out of the house, right? But you didn’t, and now you are here, absorbed in your torments, trying to find a way to get back to where you started, possibly without ruining your friendship, of course.

You know the chemistry between you two is still there, but it’s like he’s holding back. You surely aren’t; flirting shamelessly with him, sometimes even in front of your — now common — friends (no need to worry about Johnny, he knows you can flirt with plants when you’re in a peak of insanity and good mood, nothing of your remarks is ever serious — it is with Haechan, but he doesn’t know — you just have zero skills of keeping your tongue inside your mouth and your thoughts inside your brain).

So, you understand that you need to make a bolder move, the dinners and the meets up around town aren’t working, and your move is Johnny and another night out at the club.

It works. After dancing together almost all night in a corner of the club, you find yourself pressed against a wall while his hands run on your body and his lips — shily — kiss your neck, and you know you got him.

“Your place,” you slur, pushing him away, and grabbing his hand to drag him to get your jackets.

“But Mark’s at —”

“As far as I am concerned, Mark can listen to us all night, I don’t care. We’re not fucking in the car.”

“Your place. What about your pla—” he tries to argue but your glare when you turn around and you’re now face to face stops him.

“Your place, now.”

He’s good at following orders, or maybe you’re just scary when you want to, but whatever the motive, all that matters to you is that after a fifteen minutes drive — the longest of your life — and a few minutes walk from the car to the apartment, you have Haechan buried between your legs, eating you out as if that’s what he was sent on earth to do.

You wish you could care about trying to keep it low and don’t moan loudly for Mark, but when Haechan slips two fingers in you and starts sucking on your clit with more strength, his poor roommate slips out of your mind completely.

“Fuck,” you moan as your head rolls back, rubbing against the pillows of his bed, and your legs part unconsciously.

“You’re so embarrassingly wet,” Haechan notices, standing on his elbow and licking his lips clean with a flick of his tongue. “Bet even Mark can hear how wet you are,” he mocks, quickening the pace of his fingers inside your cunt, causing the lewd sounds of your wetness to be even louder.

“Shut up!” You groan, slamming your hand next to you on the mattress before your fist moves in a ball and traps the sheets between your fingers.

Haechan grins, and a chuckle rolls from his lips while his eyes skim your face, meeting your eyes that are — pathetically — trying to glare at him. “You’re so pretty like this, you know?”

Another annoyed grunt slips out of your mouth, and you move your head to the side to avoid seeing his face.

But Haechan clicks his tongue and pulls out of you, making you whine and move your hand to bring his fingers right where they were. He’s faster than you when he sits up and cups your face with his clean hand as his fingers plunge back into you with no warning, cutting the air in your lungs and causing your eyes to flutter shut.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he orders and you unwillingly open them again, locking them in his. “That’s it, pretty girl.”

The way those two words roll from his lips shouldn’t make your stomach twist, but they do, you prefer blaming it on the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, brushing against your sweet spot and driving you closer to the climax second after second.

“I’m...” you mumble, chest lifting erratically because the eye contact is driving you more insane than his hand in you, “...close.”

The grin that appears on his face is so slappable but you have no strength to lift your hand and do anything, and Haechan can see it in your eyes. That’s how he wants you, speechless.

“Come for me, babe,” he urges you, pressing his thumb on your clit and moving it in circles.

“Fuck,” you rasp out, your hand reaches his wrist, and he shakes his head, tsking.

“No, you’re not pushing me away,” he says, but he doesn’t move your hand away, you are not even trying to push him off, well, you are, but the attempt is laughable and embarrassing.

“Too much, too much,” you cry out, voice coming out muffled by his hand still wrapped around your chin. “Haechan, please.”

“Come, we both know you can take much more, don’t play with me,” he growls, leaning in to trap your lips in a messy, heated kiss. “Be good and come for me, would you?”

You moan and hum against his lips, your hand around his wrist tightens the grip but not to push him away, to hold onto him while his fingers move even faster in and out, your hips buck up and your feet press against the mattress while he keeps you down. You feel like you can’t breathe when the orgasm breaks through and you see stars, shaking under him as you feel the grin on his face as he muffles your whimpers in his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry out, slapping his hand away when he doesn’t stop moving after your high dimmed down. “Haechan, fucking stop.”

He laughs deeply and stands away from you, his fingers slip out of you but soon after they’re inside his mouth as he licks them clean while staring straight into your eyes.

“You will drive me insane,” you mutter low enough only for you to hear and Haechan raises a brow, silently questioning you to repeat, but you won’t tell him that. “Fuck me,” you request instead, sitting and grabbing the hem of your shirt to lift it off your head, throwing it around the room.

“Hey, I wanted to undress you,” he pouts, watching you unclasp the bra that meets the same fate as the shirt soon after.

“Too late, should’ve thought about it before.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t move from his position, too busy staring at your naked form. “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

Your eyes roll back in your skull while a heavy sigh leaves your lips. “Great, can you fuck me, please,” your voice is venomously nice, and gets him on top of you in a second.

“Though it was too much? Are you sure you can take it?”

“If you don’t fuck me, I’ll ask Mark to do it and will make you watch while you’re tied to a chair.”

He whistles with enthusiasm, raising a brow, “That sounds pretty hot, you know? But I don’t think Mark’s the type to enjoy these things. Should we ask somebody else?”

“Is there anything that is actually a threat to you or are you so horny that anything is a possibility?”

“Don’t know,” he whispers with a light tone as he leans in and starts kissing your neck, moving down until his lips wrap around your hard nipple, sucking harshly enough to make you hiss before he keeps talking, “isn’t life boring if you don’t at least try everything once?”

Your stare could burn him alive. “I swear this is the last time you’re fucking me.”

“Oh, shut up,” he groans, kissing you to silence you. “Anything legal and not dangerous.”

“I don’t care about that,” you almost scream. “Just fuck me, now.”

“Ask nicely,” he coos, caressing your cheek with the back of his index finger and you glare at him.

“Mark.”

“Fine,” he rolls his eyes and before you can say another word he slips into you. Your teeth trap your lower lip to muffle a high moan to be heard in the entire house and your nails dig into his back. “Gave you what you wanted.”

“Not yet,” you whisper through gritted teeth as your body gets used to his size. “Fuck me.”

“As you wish,” he replies, adjusting better between your legs to find the right position, and after a few seconds, he’s thrusting into you. This is ten times more comfortable than the fuck in the car and you can’t believe it’s happening again. “Yeah, definitely like you better like this,” he comments with a cocky smirk, his eyes are still on your face, and his hands are holding tight on your hips.

“Like you better when you fuck me and keep your mouth shut,” you bite back. You don’t know why you two get so heated up during sex — fair, two times is not enough to draw conclusions and come up with statistics, but to you, it’s clear this is the way you two talk to each other when things get spicy — when you talk normally, you’re not like this.

Haechan rolls his eyes and grunts as he pushes with more vigor inside you, swiftly pushing your thighs against your chest with his body, and blocking your wrists over your head. His lips crush messily against yours, trapping them in a rough kiss.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head when he hits the sensitive spot inside you, and your legs immediately wrap around his waist to keep him close to you. You haven’t died yet — obviously — but this feels like the closest thing to heaven — you doubt you’ll go to heaven, to be honest — but anyway this; his hips rolling against you so perfectly, his hand on your hip and the other around your wrist, his lips on your neck and collarbones, and his cock buried deep into you, this is a taste of heaven, the higher you ever felt and probably will ever feel. And it feels humiliating that he’s got you like this after the second time together, but you don’t want to fight the feeling.

And you don’t. You moan, even letting out chants of his name shamelessly, and he has to remind you with an amused grin that you’re not alone. Mark is right next door and as funny as it might be, Haechan is not sure he wants to share you in any kind of way, no, not even the way you whimper and squirm under him.

“Keep quiet, babe,” he hushes you, kissing you again, and you have no strength to push him off. Maybe you can get used to his kisses, after all, it’s just sex, and for some spell, Haechan turns everything he does into sex, so a few heated kisses while he pounds into you until the bed squeaks won’t make you fall head over heels for him.

You nod, eyelids fluttering as you try to focus on him. His brown hair is falling on his forehead, and there’s a cute, sexy, frown in the middle of his forehead, while his eyes are staring into yours, and you feel the knot in your stomach tug strongly, making your breath cut short. He is so intense, it’s like he can reach so deep into you and discover parts of you that are still untouched.

“Haechan, fuck,” your voice gets higher when he pulls your hips closer to him and changes angle to fuck into you better, “I won’t last.”

He snorts, “Good.”

“No, no good, I…” I want you. I want you all night. I want you all over me until your smell consumes mine. You want to scream but it’s too pathetic. You never went this far for some sex. But nobody ever felt this good either.

“I can fuck you all night,” he chuckles while his thumb finds your clit and starts torturing you even more. “Don’t believe me?”

You groan. You do. You just know. He’s been sent by the gods at this point and you’re sure you won’t find flaws in him anytime soon, but you can’t. You can’t stay the night. You can’t let him get so deep into your skin so soon.

“Come,” he urges you, “don’t hold back.”

Your jaw tenses before going slack when he flicks your clit just right, triggering your orgasm. It’s intense, running into you from head to toe with so much force that you have to slap your hand on your mouth to avoid waking Mark up. You think Haechan’s close too, you can hear how his moans got lighter and whinier, but once again, he surprises you.

You don’t have time to complain when Haechan pulls away, leaving you empty. He turns you around, lightly slapping your asscheek to order you to get on your knees while your shoulders stay flat on the mattress, you wouldn’t have the strength to stand on your arm even if you wanted to.

“Want one more?” He asks against your ear, teasing his tip against your soaked entrance and brushing it against your throbbing clit in quick motions.

You hum, nodding against the pillow, “Please, please, fuck me again.”

You almost feel the smirk against your face before he fills you once more, stretching your sensitive pussy, making more of your cum drip out of you.

Your eyes fall shout, a raspy, low moan slips out of your lips, this position is making you feel him even more as the first orgasm has enhanced your senses. You feel like a puddle under him.

“You feel so good, baby,” he groans, throwing his head back as he picks up the rhythm of before, holding onto your hips so tightly his nails sink into your skin, making you hiss in pleasure. “So warm and wet for me.”

You hide your head between the pillows, biting back the moans, wondering why Mark didn’t push down the door already because there’s no way he’s not hearing all of this. But for some reason, the idea of him listening turns you on even more.

And it’s like Haechan gets it. He leans back against you, brushing your hair away so his lips can be right against your earlobe. “What are you thinking, babe?”

“Ma-mark,” you slur through ragged breaths, “not him, not like,” the words die in your throat, afraid he might misunderstand, “what if he knows?”

Haechan’s laugh hits you straight to the core, it’s deep and mocking, and you clench harder around him. “Oh, honey,” he whispers, and his voice feels like honey, thick and velvety, “I think he knows.”

You shake your head, trying to convince yourself he might be a heavy sleeper, but your body is following another direction, feeling excited just at the idea, so you push your ass up.

“You can’t keep quiet, you’re so fucking loud it’s like you want to get caught,” he taunts, smacking the side of your thighs, smirking when your muscles tense in response. “Want him to know I’m making you feel this good?”

You deny with a movement of your head, but words fail to come out because you feel on the edge again and you don’t know how much longer you can last.

Haechan clicks his tongue and then presses his chest against your back. “Let’s see if this can keep you quiet.” The last thing you expect are his fingers pushed into your mouth, but after the first surprise, you don’t even complain. Your mouth wraps around his three digits and you start to suck on them eagerly, receiving a moan of approval from him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot.” He knows he won’t last when your eyes flutter at the compliment and you start sucking on them even harder, he can only think about you taking his cock instead.

“Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles, as the images in his fantasy and the one in front of his eyes start having the best on him, hips starting to lose control, “I’m close.”

You start fucking back into him, and that’s the last thing he needs to come. His moans are higher, and when you turn your head to the side you see his trying to hold them in, biting his lips and gripping your hips tighter with the hand that is not in your mouth.

The sight of him losing his mind is enough to make you lose yours. You’re in ecstasy as your orgasm pervades your body.

“Shit,” Haechan growls one last time, his fingers slip out of your mouth and he pulls out of you before he’d like to, squirting some of his cum on your ass and thighs. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”

You barely realize what he’s talking about, but honestly, you don’t care. For what you’re concerned, after the fuck you had, he could’ve come all over you and you wouldn’t have minded.

“It’s fine,” you breathe out. Your eyes fall shut as you focus on your erratic breath, feeling him slump next to you without any other words.

“Are you okay? Was it too much?” He asks, and at first, you think he’s bragging but when your eyes meet, you realize he’s being genuine. So you nod and beam at him as the only reply you can give him at the moment.

You lie in silence for a bit, your bodies are not touching and you can only feel his heavy breath calm down with yours as you both wait for your body to cool down again. You don’t wait to be fully recovered to stand up and slip out of the covers, too afraid that sleep will take over you and block you at his side.

“What are you doing?” He questions, staring at you with an arm under his head.

“Putting my clothes back on,” you reply with a lift of shoulders as if that wasn’t obvious. You try to search for a bin where you can throw the tissues you used to clean yourself but you can’t find any, so you remind yourself to search in the kitchen before leaving.

“You can wear something mine.”

“I would have to hand it back next time we see each other, I can survive in this a bit longer.”

“You’re sleeping with those clothes?” Confusion blooms on his face as he watches your shaky hands struggle with the zip.

“No, I’ll change myself into my nightgown.”

A frown almost connects his brows before he voices out his doubts, “I don’t have it here.”

“I’m leaving,” you say with a hint of annoyance, he thought you were sleeping there, really?

“Leaving? You can stay.”

You don’t answer immediately, grabbing your phone to book a ride home, and then reply while shoving the phone in your bag. “No, thanks.”

“Do I have to drive you home?”

“No, I’ve already called a Uber.”

You see Haechan’s mouth move but nothing comes out and he only stretches his limbs. “I think that might take a while to arrive, though. It’s cold outside.”

“It’s spring,” you say, walking to the mirror on wobbly legs to make sure you look decent, fixing your air and clothes.

“It’s still cold. At least wait in the living room,” he proposes, now sitting on the mattress as he doesn’t take his eyes off of you.

“I’ll be fine,” you smile, turning around, and holding your bag on your shoulder. “I survived walking in a wood at night when I was fifteen, I can survive waiting under your building’s porch.”

“You’re always so — so,” he sighs, shaking his head, giving up finding an adjective to describe you.

You chuckle, “Always? And you don’t know me yet.”

“It sounds like a threat,” he says, running his fingers through his hair.

You open the door, and take a step outside, only showing him your face as you wink, “Oh, it is.”

Probably there was some magic in the air — the polluted air of the city made some kind of magic happen — but from then on, Haechan stopped holding back. He wasn’t shy when he texted you ‘house empty, wanna come over?’ leaving no doubts about what was going to happen if you said yes. You found it funny how he treated Mark like his parents, especially after you were sure he heard you fuck that night, but of course, you said yes.

pathetic loser dinner at that trashy fast food place with the arcade and then dessert at my place😉

And you said yes.

pathetic loser i’m busy this friday but marks’s out saturday so we have the whole day to ourselves

And you said yes. p.s: he made you come like ten times, so it was worth it.

pathetic loser wanna skip the group hang out and fuck around?

And you said yes.

You kept saying yes until you also started asking, and he obviously didn’t decline. It flowed and usually, you didn’t like to leave things unnamed, but you were terrified that if you asked, ‘what are we?’ he would’ve run away scared or, worse, confessed with his big brown eyes and that fucking glint they had inside.

You didn’t need him anyway to know what you were. Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, sex partners, or any other name you want to give it, you were that. Nothing more and nothing less.

It still wasn’t your typical thing. You two never sat down and discussed anything, your dear boundaries were nowhere to be found, or better, they existed, somehow he respected them, but you never said them out loud. Not that it was hard to get them, when you never invited him home, never leaned in for a kiss, and never stayed over, he knew your limits and that he had to respect them.

So, everything worked perfectly fine.

Until your rules started to be broken one by one before you could even notice, or better, before you could care to fix all the changes that were happening in your life because of Haechan.

pathetic loser hey

me and the boys are going on a trip to the coast this weekend

wanna come along?

you who are the boys?

pathetic loser yes, johnny is coming

You roll your eyes at the screen before tapping a reply.

you didn’t ask that : /

but yes, need some time off

you will pick me up, right?

pathetic loser you’re so pretentious

don’t you think i should propose to you to come pick you up like a gentleman?

you fine gentleman, pick me up at my place, see you this friday!

pathetic loser i can’t stand you

It’s Johnny’s fault. It’s his house on the coast, his parents’, to be precise. It’s his fault if right now you have Haechan so close and can’t make a move because whatever is going on between you two is a secret.

You’re still not sure why it wasn’t Johnny the one to invite you there, you wonder if maybe Haechan slipped and confessed to him that something is going on between you, but you’re sure that Johnny would’ve already bragged to you about how he made the ‘perfect match’ or how it was thanks to him you were finally getting laid, surely after screaming at you because ‘we never keep things a secret from each other’.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when a ball hits you and you lift your head to see Mark running to you, mumbling apologies as if he had stabbed you.

“I’m fine, it’s just a ball,” you smile to reassure him and lift a hand to cover your eyes because the sun is annoying you. Unfortunately, the sun is not blinding you enough for your wishes because you can perfectly see Haechan playing volleyball a few meters in front of you. You’re sitting on the sand, a sundress on you, while the others left you to play. You weren’t in the mood, too busy letting your thoughts get the best of you, a mix of lewd images of what you would’ve done to the man you couldn’t drift your eyes from and sadness looming over your head like a cartoon cloud.

“Hey, want something to drink?” You’re still so caught up that you don’t realize Haechan is talking to you. His blouse is big and covers his body, only leaving his arms exposed and a small portion of his chest — he doesn’t like to show much of his body — and you get lost in his sun-kissed skin another time, but when he calls your name, you shake your head and cough, trying to play it cool.

“Yes, what?”

“We’re grabbing something to drink, want some?”

“Oh, yeah, some tea.”

“Got it,” he says as if he’s accepting a commend and waves you goodbye before running to the others and you follow him with your gaze until he gets out of your line of view.

You sigh, fanning yourself because even if luckily today the weather is not too hot, you still can’t stand the heat sticking to your skin. You’ve pondered before about jumping in the sea and freshening up, but if just seeing the others having fun had brought back too many — painful — memories, you’re not so sure you can take having ‘fun’ in person.

“Here’s your tea,” Haechan says after a while with a bottle in hand, once again pulling you out of the tornado of melancholia that was drowning you.

You smile, lifting your head and grabbing the drink from his hand. “Peach? How do you know it’s my favorite?”

“You told me,” he replies, sitting next to you, a bit too close, but you don’t scoot over, you like the way your legs brush against each other and also the fact he decided to sit with you and not with your group of friends near the volleyball net.

“Did I? When?”

Haechan laughs at the surprised expression that creates a cute, small crease on your forehead and says, “the few times we had a serious conversation that didn’t include dirty talking?”

You roll your eyes, open the lid and take a sip of the cold liquid, immediately feeling better. “You make it sound as if we don’t hang out normally.”

“We do,” he replies but it’s like he’s not done, as if there’s something more he wants to tell or confess. He stops for a second, sipping on his bottle while staring at the sea at the horizon before resting his forearm on his knees and sighing, “but you never say anything about yourself.”

You chuckle nervously, fingers fidgeting with the cap of the bottle. “What’s to know about me?”

“Everything. You’re a secret.”

You can hear the bittersweetness in his tone, and if you’d stare for a second more, you would also catch it in his eyes, but you dismiss him and the things he’s silently telling you with his body. You sneer under your breath and shake your shoulders before words roll from your mouth. “Secrets are exciting.”

He nods, pressing his lips in a thin line to hold in a groan of disagreement. “When you know them and you have to keep them away from the rest of the world.”

“You want to keep me away?” You joke tenderly, meeting his brown eyes, even warmer and more welcoming now that the sunlight is reflecting in them.

He laughs, shaking his head. This time he’s the one diverting his gaze, the next words that are about to come out sound too vulnerable in his head and he doesn’t want to imagine how heavy they will sound out loud. “I’m just saying, I would keep some things of you only for me to know.”

You hum, nodding while staring at the sand, showing nonchalance even if there’s a circus in your stomach. Maybe you can give him something without breaking another one of your rules, but you soon realize that he already knows the small things about you that you told him to get to know each other. He knows where you work, he knows you have a brother, and you know he has two and a sister. He knows you once found a grass snake in a park and took it home because you wanted a snake pet and your father almost threw you outside (affectionately, no kids or animals were hurt, you just had to give it back to nature). He knows your birthday and your favorite color. Isn’t that enough?

“There’s nothing to know about me.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re boring, aren’t you?” He mocks with sarcasm and his head falls back in annoyance. “You don’t strike as the bland type of person so try again.”

“I just don’t get what you want to know. Ask me questions and I’ll answer.” And I’ll lie, that’s what you truly think.

But Haechan shakes his head, gulping down another mouthful of water. “Nevermind, you don’t get it.”

No, you don’t get it, or maybe you’re pretending not to get it, that he wants to know you. He wants to learn by watching, by studying you, but you always slip away, you don’t let him close. He doesn’t care about questions, this is not a quiz for him, but maybe that’s the fun of you. He has to work extra hard. And he will.

“It’s pretty here.” Haechan’s voice fills the night air, it’s chilly outside, and you’re sitting on the small sofa under the porch. There’s nobody but the two of you at home, the others decided to go out and visit the small coastal town at night, but you were too tired to drag your feet any longer, and honestly, you thought you were all alone.

You hum, moving to the side to leave him some space next to you. “We used to come here during summer,” you let out, and it’s impossible to control the smile on your face when you remember your childhood with your and Johnny’s family. “I always sat here at night, I liked the quiet of the beach and the lights of the towns of the coast. My brother didn’t get it,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “he was too busy playing with Johnny. Even when they stopped being best friends, it was like something shifted in summer. Something about this place feels… different.”

Haechan smiles, he’s not staring at the view, his eyes are locked on you. He thinks that you are different here. He can’t say you two aren’t close, but it’s clear you never let him too close, and he’d like to know why. He knows exactly where your relationship stands, it’s just sex, and he’s fine like this, really, but he wonders if you only do it to protect your heart from unwanted inconveniences or if you don’t trust him enough to let him in. He often thought about prying it with Johnny, but he knows that as soon as your name will slip out of his lips, Johnny will twist everything, and probably that would drift you even further from him. You never had a conversation but it’s clear you both want to keep this between you.

“It feels like the world stops here,” he says instead to don’t let the conversation die before moving his gaze away, hearing you hum an affirmative response.

It really feels like time has stopped, and there’s undefined electricity running between you, it’s the same as always and it’s different at the same time.

“Johnny didn’t tell me about this,” you breathe out; you know it could end in a catastrophe, but you need answers. “Did he ask you to invite me, or did you do it?”

Haechan doesn’t answer right away, you see him gulp and you fear the worst. There it is, the confession you don’t need, you don’t want it, because he is the best sex you ever had, nobody ever made you feel like that, he completely unplugs your brain and for a few hours, you can leave all your problems at the door, and also because after all, he’s a good friend, and love would screw this all up.

“He told me I could invite some other of our friends,” he replies, “and I asked about you, and he told me I could ask. He was going to invite you, but I did it first,” he explains, playing with a loose string of his shorts that are barely covering his thighs. “Why?”

You shrug, it’s the only thing you can do, a breath of relief would be too obvious. “Nothing, I was just wondering. Usually, he organizes these things with me.”

“Oh,” he whispers, “I think that initially it was supposed to be a boys’ thing only, then Mark brought up Minjeong and here we are.”

You know he doesn’t mean it that way, but that ‘here we are’ makes shivers run down your spine. Because here you are. This is the closest thing to breaking rule number 3 and 4 and so many others. It’s just the two of you, watching the sunset while the sea plays its melody just for you to listen. This is romantic. He’s not fucking you shamelessly under the porch where everyone can see. You are laughing together, passing a bottle of soju, and sharing touches that feel too intimate. You can’t break any more rules.

“I was thinking — oh, shit,” Haechan mumbles before you shut him up by jumping on him and crashing his lips on yours, your fingers locking immediately in his hair and pulling it back harshly. “Wow, fuck, needy tonight?”

You don’t reply, your lips move down to bite his neck while your hips start grinding on him.

“Calm down, damn, I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, wrapping his hands on your waist now that the shock is gone, “and don’t mark me, you don’t want the others to find out, right?”

No, you don’t. Or maybe you do, maybe it’s time for something to happen and break you and him apart. Cause you feel you’re going down a slippery slope and you don’t like this. Maybe you should fuck this whole thing up like you always do. But you can’t, deep down, you don’t want to.

“It’s only been a week,” Haechan mumbles through the kiss. “You’re so needy.”

“Can you just shut up?” You argue, pressing your hips down on him, smirking when you feel his dick start to press up against you. “So, you do want me.”

He snorts, “Of course, I do. I wasn’t rejecting, I was just pointing out — fuck,” he whimpers breathlessly when you bite his lips and his nails dig in the exposed skin of your back, your crop top leaving so much bare.

“Want you,” you say as if you have to make it any more obvious.

“It’s a bit too public, don’t you think so?”

You shake your head, moving a hand between your bodies to open the button of your shorts but he stops you again, forcing your hands behind your back, catching you by surprise.

“I’d love to fuck you right here, in front of the sea and the sunset, but if one of our friends comes back before time, we’re fucked with no way out, so… can we take it inside?”

You nod, mumbling a faint positive answer, thinking of getting up and running upstairs, but Haechan has no intention of breaking the contact. He lifts you up after freeing your hands so you can secure them around his neck and then pushes the front door open.

“Let’s give it a turn of keys,” he says, twisting the keys in the lock so you’ll have extra time if by the time they’ll come back you won’t be done. You wait patiently, enjoying the way it feels to be in his arms, and let him carry you on the second floor where the bedroom you share is. Was it a great thing or a curse, you still can’t tell, but for now it seems like a good thing.

When you cross the doorframe, the clothes are on the floor in less than a minute and your bodies are already tangled in the bedsheets, hands running on each other with eager and soft whimpers filling those four walls.

You don’t keep track of how long you spend kissing — or eating each other — but you’re sure a few minutes pass by of you just grinding against each other while your tongues and lips meet in a mess.

“Fuck,” Haechan whispers, his hot breath puffing against your warm, wet, now plumper, lips. “Com’ere.” He lays on the bed, patting the space next to his face and you stare at him with confused eyes. He sighs, “On my face, honey. On my face.”

“Oh.”

He quirks a brow. “You were so eager before, what happened?”

You shake your head, moving closer to him, planting your knees at the sides of his chest. “I was, I mean, I am, I want you.”

“So? On my face.”

“I — I don’t…”

Haechan’s eyes roll back and a heavy annoyed groan comes out of his mouth, “Oh God, don’t tell me your ex never done that?”

“Hyuck, he would rarely eat me out while I was laying, do you think he would make me sit on his face?”

“Asshole.”

“Haechan!”

“He’s an asshole, you know it! But I’m not, so come here and sit on your throne.”

“You didn’t just call your face my throne?” Your tone is a mix of annoyance and incredulity, but you actually found that too hot to handle.

“I very much did. And now, do I have to drag you or will you fucking sit?”

You gulp, nodding swiftly, but your legs are slower at moving next to his face and he doesn’t like your hesitation. You yelp when his hands grab your ass and your thigh and pull you right where he wanted you.

“Was it that hard?” He asks teasingly, almost growling so close to your skin, before winking at your flustered face.

The sight of him under you, and his breath colliding with your pussy, make your knees tremble already. “No — no.”

“Good. But you still didn’t listen,” he says sternly.

“I did, I’m on your face,” you defend.

“Are you sitting?”

“No.”

“What are you waiting for? Do I have to do everything tonight?” His tone is getting lower, and the edge of anger in it causes your pussy to clench around nothing.

“But I will… I will break your neck.”

“And I will die like a man,” he insists, challenging you with a glare.

“No, it’s —”

His mad, animalistic, growl on your pussy when he forcefully slams you on him makes you choke on a moan and throw your head back while your hands automatically grab the headboard to hold onto something. Haechan tends to always be messy when he eats you out, he never does things you don’t like, but he has to make sure you know he’s enjoying it, so he’s always a bit messier and louder than he has to be. But this time he’s taking his everything to let you know how badly he wants you. His fingers are planted on your skin, his nose is pressing right against your clit while his tongue moves to leave kitten licks that quickly turn into open-mouthed kisses.

“Fuck,” you moan, hands clenching tight around the bar, and head falling down to see him. His eyes are closed and he’s having the time of his life as he sucks at your clit and lips with eagerness.

“You’re so hot from here,” he mumbles, stopping only for a second to catch his breath before he resumes his movements. His pink muscle moves down, teasing your entrance, slurping up the juices that are dripping out of you, and when your thighs clench around his head in response, he groans gutturally.

You think you hurt him and try to pull up, but he forces you down with strength.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growls, glaring at you, and you can only hum in reply, feeling your body melt under his skilled movements.

When Haechan’s lips dare to move down on your sensitive rim, you jolt, but he’s fast at keeping you in place, his hands on your thighs as he presses them down and sends you a daring glare.

“Hae — I don’t think…”

“Yeah, exactly, don’t think,” he snarls, the movements on you getting sloppier and louder, making you start to grind against him unconsciously.

Moans choke you up as he explores new things with you, sending you into a new dimension. You can’t fully comprehend you’re sitting on top of his face while he messily eats out your pussy and your ass. You can’t believe he’s moaning under you, holding you tight, one hand busy touching your ass while the other wonders on your upper chest caressing your waist and your boobs.

You feel high and drunk on him. So much you can barely mutter a warning before you come, shaking on top of him, your movements are frenetic as you reach your peak while cries of his name slur out of your mouth with low moans. A tear almost slips from your eyes when Haechan doesn’t stop right away and keeps stimulating your sensitive spots, it’s too much and you collapse on the other side, trying to catch your breath.

Haechan chuckles, licking up your juices before rubbing his nose against your neck. “Fuck, I’d eat you out for days,” he comments, rubbing his hands on your stomach. “You’re so pretty when you moan and squirm, whether on top of me or under, and you taste so good.”

“You never let me pay you back.”

He giggles, kissing you, “you don’t have to.”

“But maybe I want to,” you pout. You can’t deny that you live for how much Haechan loves giving you oral, but you enjoy sucking him off just as much. You love how he lets you have control, how husky and warm his moans are, and you love when his hands weakly wrap around your hair… well, he only let you do it once but you had the time of your life and that never happened when you went down with your ex so…

“Have you ever tried anal?” He asks out of nowhere, surprising you.

“With someone? No. By myself… maybe…”

He raises a brow while a smirk curls his lips. “Maybe? What kind of answer is that?”

“I did,” you confess, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Uh,” he coos, poking your side playfully, “had fun?”

You lick your lips, shrugging. “Fine, I did. I think I like it, but it might be different with, you know, a real person.”

“Would you try?” He asks timidly, looking at you with puppy eyes. As if he has to beg to make you do something, as if he doesn’t know you would try anything with him.

“Yeah, why not.”

“Good, fuck,” he kisses you after letting out the breath he was holding in. “Wanna fuck your ass,” he whispers against your neck, but you can feel the ear-to-ear smile on his face, “wanna be your first time.”

You’d dwell on how cheesy that sounds a bit more if only it wasn’t for his hands groping your ass and squeezing hard while he ruts against your thigh like a pup in heat.

“You’re pathetic,” you mock playfully, tugging his hair back, eliciting a broken moan from him.

“And you’re hot,” he breathes out, moving on top of you to shush you with a kiss while his right arm falls under the bed to search for something. “Been thinking about this all day. You looked so pretty in that short white dress.”

A small smile paints on your face, but it drops when he keeps rummaging in his bag next to the bag. “Can’t you get up to get, I guess, the lube?”

“No,” he almost growls. “Want you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, come on, need you to fuck me.”

“You’re so impatient,” he groans, “but I got it!” He lifts his hand, showing you the small bottle of lube and you snicker at his proud smile.

“You’re such a loser, you’re lucky you’re with me because anybody else would’ve been out of the door by now.”

“And they would lose the best dick of their life, so, dumb decision,” Haechan says before his lips crash on yours again. “And you’re not that dumb, right?”

You shake your head, already feeling your breathing get shorter when his lube-covered fingers start playing with your rim.

“You looked so, so fucking hot in that short sundress, fuck,” he moans, pulling away to sit between your legs, he pushes a finger inside and you bite back a moan. “Wanted to press you against the handrail and fuck you right there on the restaurant balcony.”

Your head rolls back, thinking of that afternoon. The tension between you could be cut with a knife, and there was something thrilling about the way you couldn’t keep your eyes — and hands — off each other and still had to keep it a secret.

“You should’ve,” you breathe out, choking on your words when he starts fucking you with another finger, curling them inside and stretching you to get your hole ready for him.

“Yeah? You would’ve liked it?”

You nod, staring into his eyes with a teasing glare. “Maybe I should’ve sat on top of you,” you stop to swallow, eyes squeezing when he brushes his thumb on your dripping pussy and starts teasing it, “on your lap and tried to — to keep it cool.”

He smirks, tilting his head before he pulls his fingers out. “I think you’re ready for me. You always are, right?”

“Yeah.”

You are, but when his thick cock pushes into you it still takes your breath away. Your fingers and your little purple toy can’t compare to him, they don’t fill you like this, and they don’t feel so good.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, rubbing his thumb on your waist in circular motions, “taking me all like a good girl.”

You bite back a groan and throw your head back, breathing deeper and longer before you reach his hand and beg him to move.

Haechan sneakers, “only if you keep telling me your little fantasy.”

“I — I don’t think I can,” you confess; he’s barely moving into you, only making circular motions brushing against your sensitive spot, and you already feel weak.

“I’m sure you can,” he smiles, “I didn’t fuck you dumb, yet.”

Your holes clench at his words and you gather your sanity to keep talking. “Sitting on your lap, trying to — trying not to fuck up and down on your dick,” you force out when he keeps his promise and starts moving in and out, gripping your hips tight to angle you just how he knows you like it best.

“You think you can resist it? Stay on my dick without moving?”

“Ye-yes.”

He laughs, throwing his head back as he starts snapping his hips faster. “You’re so confident, baby. I would love to see it all fall down.”

“But if I did, they would find out.”

“Yeah, and think about it, I’d bend you over the table while everyone watches you get fucked dumb. Would you say no?”

You nod, failing to give him a stronger verbal answer.

“Liar,” he spits out, grabbing your thighs to push them up. “Every time I fuck you with Mark in the other room you moan even louder.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, no?” He tsks, cupping your cheeks. “Honey, you love putting on shows. Or is it just for me?”

“For you,” you confess, voice muffled by the pression he’s applying on your face.

The smirk that curls his lips is smug and cocky. “That little dress was for me?”

You nod and his smile grows bigger before it turns into a pout.

“I didn’t get to take it off.”

“You were supposed to — fuck — to fuck me in it,” you mumble, catching your breath when his hold on you loosens.

“Next time,” he groans, “or maybe tomorrow.”

You don’t reply, only cry out louder when you come unexpectedly, taking you both by surprise.

“I’m — I’m sorry, it — shit — it felt too good, I,” you don’t truly know how to justify yourself because you don’t know why you’re so sensitive tonight.

“Shut up,” Haechan stops you with a kiss, “I know you can’t help it when you’re with me.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you retort, rolling your eyes.

“But you love it,” he smirks. “Come here.” He pulls out of you, slapping your thigh as he orders you to sit up. “Want me to fuck you hard?”

You nod, crawling to him at the end of the bed on your own, cupping his face to pull him in a rough kiss as your fingers slip in his hair, and his hands reach your asscheeks, shamelessly parting them before he spanks you hard.

“Can you take it?” He asks against your lips, rubbing his thumb against your jaw before he brushes it on your open mouth, staring into your eyes.

“Ye-yes,” you say but your voice is shaking. When his hand wraps around your neck to tease a kiss that he never gives you, you frown, and he snorts.

“You’re so cute, you know?” His patronizing tone makes more wetness drool down your thighs but you still find the strength to push his buttons.

“And you’re hard, you didn’t come once, yet. Shouldn’t you fix this?”

He doesn’t reply, he pushes you onto the bed, making you face the only mirror in the room, it’s not extremely close to the bed but you’re sure it will do for whatever he has in mind.

“I think you’re so pretty when I touch you, kiss you, tease you,” he whispers against your ear, “fuck you,” he fucks into you without warning, and you gasp, “it’s a shame you don’t get to see it. To watch your pride slip out of you every time that I’m inside you.”

Your head rolls down when he starts fucking into you faster than before but he shakes his head, clicks his tongue, and pushes you up with a tug on the makeshift ponytail. “You’re not running away from me, babe,” he says. “You might not let me into your true self but I have you turned inside out when you’re under me.”

You blink your eyes, staring at him through the mirror, feeling small because you feel like you can’t keep up with his gaze. Haechan has control, he does have you in the palm of your hand, now, only when he fucks you, and you can’t care to mind.

You want him to fuck you until there’s nothing more in your brain. You want him to know all the small things that make you feel good. Because nobody before him even wanted to know them, to own you like this, and you don’t want him to stop.

“Look at you,” he whispers, biting your earlobe, “is it so terrible to not have everything under control?” You feel a hint of bitterness in his voice, almost as if he’s mad at you for not letting go like this under other circumstances. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“With you,” you cry out, shaking a tear away and gritting your teeth when he hits you deeper and you feel your body on fire again.

“Yes, with me,” he says. “You don’t have to think about anything when you’re with me. I’ve got you.”

You almost scream because you hate how much comfort you feel at his words, they don’t sound sexual, not even now that his rutting into you at a fast speed, fucking your ass with so much force that the bed is squeaking and the slaps of your skin against each other fill the room. Even now, something about him makes you feel in the right safe place and you’re not sure this is how you’re supposed to feel while being railed by your friend with benefits.

You shake your head, forcing your eyes open as you stare at him in the mirror. “Harder,” you whisper, sinking your nails in the crumpled sheets under you.

“Harder?” He mocks. “Are you sure?”

You nod, pushing your ass up, trying to provoke him into giving you more.

“If you say so.” His hand moves hesitantly on your neck, he doesn’t apply pressure, he just keeps you in his hold as he fucks into you with rhythmic, deep, and breath-taking thrusts. A low grunt escapes from his lips when your eyes roll back for a moment and you start to be more vocal, mouth staying parted and chest rising swiftly as you gasp for air.

You are a vision. And he could get lost in that.

“You — fuck — feel like heaven, baby,” he groans, “and look so pretty with no thoughts in your brain.” His voice hits right beside your ear and sends shivers down your spine, the eye contact through the reflecting surface makes you melt, tighten the knot in your stomach and almost come on the spot.

Haechan chuckles, kissing your cheeks in a mockingly delicate motion. “Were you about to come again, honey?”

You shake your head, lying blatantly because you know that if you give it to him, he won’t shut up. But he knows you were.

“Yes, you were,” he taunts with a sharp laugh. “What did I say about holding it back?”

“But I — I can’t, fuck,” you cry out. “Too much, can’t take another one.”

“Yes, you can,” he orders. “Come for me, and then I’ll show you, you’ll come again.”

The last thing you want to do is listen to him but he’s a sneaky piece of shit that knows you too well, and when two fingers rub against your clit and two others pass from your neck to your mouth, forcing you to suck them, your orgasm explode before you can even try to fight it.

“I fucking — ugh — hate you,” you cry out, still shaking from the pleasure, writhing under him, shaking your head when he cleans his fingers on your chin.

“The mess on your face is nothing compared to the mess between your legs. You know, right?”

Yes, you do. You can feel your pussy drip an embarrassing amount of cum, and you know how much your hole is clenching around him. But it’s not your fault.

The sounds that come from his mouth are pure condescending mockery as he smirks down at you. “Can’t answer me anymore?”

You’re about to open your mouth but he shuts you up with an open hand on it. “I don’t want to hear you. I don’t need to hear you to know you’re going dumb on my cock.”

You muffle something but it’s in vain, and his eyes glint when you give up in two seconds.

“You’re right,” he groans, “something is different about this place. You never let me have so much — fuck — so much control over you. You never let me fuck you this good, like you deserve.”

You’d like to complain. Because if he thinks that your past fucks weren’t this good, he’s dead wrong. But when your eyes lock, you get he’s still talking about something else. It’s not about the sex or the many orgasms, it’s about you. You didn’t talk back, you didn’t roll your eyes when he called you ‘pretty’ or ‘beautiful’, and you’re not running away even if he’s all over you. You get lost in his bites and kisses on your shoulders, on his hands on your skin, and his words filling your brain.

“Wouldn’t fuck you in front of the others,” Haechan grunts. He’s picking a brutal pace and you feel like you could break, but moans are still coming out of your mouth, hoarse and needy. “They don’t deserve to see you like this,” he groans, slipping a hand under you, reaching your clit, and making you yelp. “This is only for me. This is mine to see.”

Your eyes roll back. The possessiveness in his voice shouldn’t make you feel things, but it does, it gets your inside to twist and your heart to race and your cunt to clench around nothing even more. You feel like your chest could explode when he keeps repeating that you’re his and his only and you can tease everybody else as long as you want but no one will ever make you feel like he does. His pace on your clit speeds up, while his head falls in the crook of your neck, and then his hips still, the orgasm hits you at the same time and your bodies freeze as the pleasure buzzes through your bones, his hand falls from your mouth and you gasp for air while he collapses on top of you.

You start breathing in synch, and you enjoy the sensation of his chest on your back, but that doesn’t last long. He’d love to stay there some more, but your friends might come back in minutes now, and he truly doesn’t want anyone else to even get a glimpse of you like this. So he rolls to the side, turning his head to stare at you while he dares to caress your back with his hand. You never let him do it, he had tried, he thought aftercare was essential and that after everything he put you through you deserved more than just a simple ‘are you okay?’ followed by your positive answer before you slipped to run back home or if he was lucky only in the bathroom before you came back to sleep next to him, as far as possible.

But this time you don’t glare at him, and you don’t move away, you move closer, not much, but for you is a lot, and you keep your eyes closed while your left hand searches for his body shily, you don’t touch him, it’s just a brush of your fingers against his stomach, but it makes his heart jump in his throat.

“I think…” he whispers, stopping when your eyes flutter open, terrified he ruined something, but you don’t talk, “I think we should shower, so we can be asleep when they come home.”

You smile, stretching and covering your mouth when you yawn. “If you carry me,” you mumble. “I can’t walk.”

He chuckles and then sits up. “It’s my fault so, yeah, I’ll carry you.”

Nothing changes after that small summer trip. You go back and start being stressed once again and the only relief you have is Haechan. Some days are so stressful that you beg for him to come pick you up at work so you can eat something outside and then head back to his apartment to fuck.

Yeah, to fuck.

That is always the original plan, the only thing you need him for. You feel bad for some time treating him like a living dildo, but isn’t it what you two are for each other? You know there’s respect, and care, not love, never love, but other than being friends, when you meet up alone there’s just sex.

That’s what it’s supposed to be.

But then those things turn into… something else. You think it started one night when you came to his place but couldn’t jump on each other because he got a phone call he couldn’t decline, and you had to sit on the couch. You could’ve been a tease and started masturbating in front of him but that thought didn’t even cross your mind. You sat there, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv, hoping to catch something to keep you entertained, and you did. It was one of your favorite movies and when Haechan ended the call and sat next to you, you both had forgotten why you were there.

Just like right now. It’s a Friday night and you came to his place to spend an evening together. No, you didn’t break any rules, it’s just a simple movie night. After you found out you both have an interest in films you couldn’t stop thinking about it, so it was an excuse to watch and discuss some movies together.

“Hi,” Haechan opens the door, and he looks wrecked. You panic seeing him because it looks like he fought with a bear with bare hands, he’s sweating, and his hair is a mess, and your heart clenches in your chest… is he fucking — “I cooked.”

Oh, he cooked.

That made perfect sense, but it doesn’t make sense that you panicked at the idea of him with another girl, almost feeling sick to your stomach and about to throw up. You mentally slap yourself and smile as big as you can before making your way in. Suddenly regretting that you can’t slam him against the couch and ride him until you both pass out.

“Last time chips hurt your stomach, so I made fries, and some small pizzas,” he exclaims, disappearing in the kitchen before showing up again with his hands full. “I hope you like this.” Haechan almost passes out when he sees the smile on your face, it’s so big and he swears he never saw you smile like that, but the moment of happiness doesn’t last because that smile disappears after your thanks.

It’s another mental slap to yourself and your heart for beating so damn hard. It’s just snacks, anybody would have done that, right? Except you know damn well it’s not true. Your ex never cared about the few things your stomach hated and kept you up at night. Sometimes even Johnny forgot you couldn’t eat chips for God knows whatever reason. And it is annoying to fry and turn on the oven when he could’ve just opened a bag and eaten.

Haechan is a good person. You justify. He is. You know it. He’s kind, good with kids, doesn’t know how to cook but he tries (for you), and when you tell him something makes you uncomfortable, he always tries to fix it as soon as he can, he’s perf—

“We should eat before it gets cold, then,” you almost scream, scaring him because you were dead silent in your thoughts for too long.

And Haechan thinks he will never get you. But it’s fine like this. You are to discover, and he likes it. It’s thrilling, and every small step deeper into you feels like the biggest of the rewards. But he wonders when, and if, he will ever reach your core.

For now, it’s fine like this, as you sit on the couch with the food in front of you and the movie you picked starts playing on the screen.

After those movie nights, you should leave. You never set them too late for that reason, so you can drive back home before midnight. It’s easy to do, you’re just a bit tired but your legs are not shaking post-orgasm, your heart is not jumping out of your ribcage and you’re not leaking cum.

It is easy.

Yet, you stop doing it.

“Why don’t you stay?”

You should leave. Just like you did that one time he woke up with you and asked you to stay for breakfast. You were late. And right now, you can’t be late, but tomorrow you need to be home before nine because you have something important to do. It’s an easy lie to tell, he doesn’t know anything about you anyway.

“I don’t know,” you whisper and Haechan looks taken aback. Of course, he is, that’s not a typical response of you. You would’ve screamed something at him, acting like a dog when someone crosses its personal space, barking left and right (not the nicest comparison he had told you — yes, he did — but you couldn’t get mad cause he was right). “I don’t have a toothbrush or my towels.”

You realize that you broke another rule when Haechan stares at you with wide eyes and mouth agape. That’s the reason why you can’t stay. And the way those words came out of your mouth shows that you’re almost — he learned he has to be careful with you — sad for it.

“I have a spare one,” he says before you can go back to your true self, “it can be yours.”

That toothbrush eventually becomes yours. It sits there, right next to his, and every time you get up in the morning to escape from his bed, you’re reminded of all the lines you’ve crossed. You didn’t bring it from home, he fucking gave a toothbrush to you, and he doesn’t keep it scored somewhere in case you need it, no, it stays right there, always, next to his, as if it belongs there.

You know it doesn’t, it feels weird, romantic, and domestic, and fuck it, you never left any of your belongings in your ex-boyfriend’s apartment. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to take it out and throw it away.

It’s because you might need it.

Yes, you might need it.

That’s what you tell yourself.

Things start going downhill when you break rule number 3.

Technically you didn’t break it.

You didn’t exactly invite him over.

A phone call at midnight while drunk-you slurred out incomprehensible words and sobbed like a child to whom somebody just stole their favourite teddy bear can’t be considered an invite, right? In your defense, when he hung off the call, making you sob even harder cause you thought you fucked it up another time, you weren’t expecting the bell to ring ten minutes later. And when you dragged your body to the door, you didn’t expect to find him standing there, his nightwear only covered with a jacket, his hair a mess, and his breath short, a clear sign he rushed to your place.

“Are you okay?” Haechan asks worriedly, shaking your shoulders to make sure you’re alive and not a creation of his imagination.

If you were your usual you, you would’ve slapped him. Wasn’t it clear that you are not fine? But you’re not there tonight, so you say something else.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, tears streaming down your face as you feel guiltier than ever, “I didn’t know who to call.”

If you were your usual you, you would’ve been able to see the glint that crossed Haechan’s eyes at your words, probably even to hear his heart skip a beat and his hands shake for a brief moment, but again, you are not there tonight.

“What happened?” He asks, trying to appear calm but he’s not calm at all. You are vulnerable, you. And out of all the people to be vulnerable with, you chose him.

“I’m an asshole,” you mumble, letting your body fall into his arms, face hiding in the crook of his neck while you let go to a nervous cry.

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m here now. Should we sit?”

You nod, but you’re not really giving orders to your body when he drags you to the couch and lets you cuddle up next to him, shushing you and rubbing circles on your back.

“I never do anything right,” you mutter, holding yourself closer to him, hoping you’ll disappear into him and won’t have to face another day.

“I don’t think so.”

“But you don’t know me, you… if I only… if you only knew all my flaws you would run away, even if between us was just sex.”

Haechan’s face twists in pain as he looks down at you, only seeing your hair because your face is still pressed against his chest. “Cause it’s not?”

“We’re friends, but you…” your words die in your mouth, trying to give an order to all the things that are running in your head. “I try to fix things and then they go wrong, and how do I stop being a bad person? How do I stop hurting everybody?”

“Who did you hurt?”

“I mean… I am hurt, but I… is he manipulating, or am I truly a bitch?”

Haechan can’t follow you, he wants to be a support, but you aren’t giving him clues about anything that is going on and he’s terrified of crossing boundaries, especially now that he has you so close and honest in his arms. This feels more intimate than all the sex you shared, and it’s scarier.

“Who are you talking about?” He dares to ask, losing the hold on you when you sit up, moving away from his body, not much, your legs are still pressed together, and you search for his hand for comfort.

“My ex.”

“Your ex?”

You nod, biting your lips just to prevent another terrible sound to roll out. “I started thinking… about us and why we didn’t work out, and… there were so many things that didn’t sit right. I don’t think I was crazy over him, but I… I’ve always respected him. He surely wasn’t the love of my life but fuck,” at that you break down again, turning your face to the side because even if you’re in the middle of a breakdown you can’t be so vulnerable to Haechan’s eyes. “We’ve been together for a year and a half and only now, because I asked for more closure, he told me he used me just for sex. And as the dumbass pathetic mess I am, I… we… we used to fuck.”

Haechan’s jaw tenses as he listens to you, it’s probably not his place to syndicate since you two are using each other for the same reason, but it’s mutual and consensual. He coughs and then speaks when you don’t explain more. “After?”

“What?”

“You went back to him after the breakup… to fuck?”

“Yes,” you cry out, voice coming out in a yelp. And you know you look like a mess, tears and snot staining your face, but you can’t control your emotions anymore. You feel stupid. Every time you let your sentiments have the best, life proves you shouldn’t do it.

Haechan sighs, taking you back in his hold, letting you go off in his embrace. He doesn’t talk, not sure of what to say, and let silence pass by, lulling you, and drawing circles in your hair. Only when you’ve calmed down a bit he talks. “Why are you the bad person in this?”

“Cause he told me I’m insufferable. He said he loved me at first but… every day with me was ‘killing him’ or whatever. Because I… I like things done a certain way, I like order, I… I can’t let my life go into shambles, Hyuck. I’ve lived the worst days of my life because I had lost control, I feared I wasn’t going to make it out alive only because I wasn’t mentally there anymore, because I wasn’t in control. I let people walk over me and put myself last. I can’t go back there, I can’t.”

“You’re not insufferable for being honest. You’re sincere about what you feel, not the type of person that hides behind honesty to make fun of others or to push them out of their comfort zone. I mean, surely sometimes it’s a lot when you want to have so much control over things, and how badly you react at times when a minor thing doesn’t go as planned. But I think that there are some flaws the people that love us should learn and comprehend, and either decide it’s not a weight for them or be frank and break up. Not everyone can carry the baggage that we bring with us, and that’s fine.”

You sniffle, knowing he’s right, but also feeling that nobody seems to be able, or willing to even try, to carry the baggage you carry with you.

“Would you date me?” That was the alcohol talking, and the heartbreak, and Haechan knows it. But he doesn’t know how drunk and heartbroken you are. He doesn’t know if this is a tricky question, if you would’ve remembered it the next morning and instead of taking it as a friend supporting you, it would’ve caused you two to drift apart. He doesn’t want to lose you, so he circles around it the best he can.

“Your value is not in the people who would date you or not, not even in those who did, like your ex.”

“Yes but, isn’t this the same? I am using you for sex, I’m doing the same.”

“It’s not the same. We want this, and we’re friends. I’m here, supporting you. I don’t think he supported you that much while technically you were dating, am I wrong?”

“No, you’re right. I should’ve seen the signs.”

“We’re all good once things are done, but we can’t blame ourselves from the past. You were in love, it doesn’t matter that you weren’t madly in love, you never disrespected him. While he made you believe he loved you, and in reality, he stopped feeling that and still used you. So, who’s the asshole here?”

“Him,” you whisper with a shaky voice.

“Good, that’s my good girl,” he praises, caressing your cheeks and wiping the tears away with his thumb. “See, you can see things clearly after the storm.”

You hum, a small smile plastering on your face before you cuddle closer to him. You take a deep breath, inhaling his perfume and you feel at peace. “You know I like you, right? Like, I respect you and care for you.”

Haechan’s smile goes from ear to ear, deep down he does, but he would’ve never expected you to say it out loud. “I know, even if you run away from my bed as if I bite you.”

You laugh, hiding your face against his chest and your fingers tighten around his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to an empty bed anyway, so it’s not much of a difference when I wake up and don’t find you there.”

Your head rolls up, chin pressing between his sternum as your eyes meet his. “Mind not waking up to an empty bed tomorrow?”

“Mh?”

“Can you please stay the night?” You ask shily, voice quivering. “I know I’m selfish, but I need someone with me.”

Haechan smiles, “It’s not selfish, that’s what friends do.”

That’s what friends do.

Cleaning your smudged makeup and tears.

Giving you water and an aspirin.

Helping you clean your body and even apply moisturizer.

Taking care of your hair.

Putting you in clean nightwear.

Whispering a song to your ear to make you fall asleep.

Holding you close the entire night, so you don’t have nightmares.

Yeah, that’s what friends do.

You know Haechan has a… sparkling personality. He’s chatty, outgoing, and friendly with everyone. He’s not so different from Johnny, so you two get along well because you grew up with your best friend starting conversations even with walls, it doesn’t annoy you when Haechan does the same.

Well, it didn’t annoy you.

Other than that, Haechan has this tendency of flirting with pretty much everyone — of age, and that doesn’t give signs of discomfort — not so different than you, so you couldn’t get mad at him for that, right? Those flirty remarks are jokes, silly things that fit into the moment and that he says just for funny purposes, right?

You aren’t so sure about it. And you aren’t even sure why you care so much. That sensation at the pit of your stomach every time he talks with someone else, touches them, or winks and smirks, is not normal. You know he’s going to take you home and fuck you all night, giving you exactly what you ask for, so why do you feel like this?

“This place is dope.” Mark’s voice rings loudly in your ear, and his body touches yours as he messily sits next to you on the bench, dragging you out of the intense staring competition you were having with yourself, Haechan and his new friend’s body.

“Yeah, Johnny always finds the best places,” you force out, gripping the empty glass in your hands tighter and obligating yourself to look around and not go back to Haechan and that fake blonde girl that is all over him.

“Seems like someone’s having fun,” Mark laughs, looking in front of you and you curse mentally because you know who he’s referring to, and right now you wish Haechan wasn’t having the time of his life. “Johnny made a match for himself and for Hyuck too, the only one missing is you.”

You chuckle, looking at the floor, sighing deeply before you decide that it’s better to divert the conversation from you. “Where’s Minjeong?”

“Oh, she’s at home, actually I’ll leave in a few minutes cause I have to go to her place,” he says with a smile on his face and you think it’s cute how he reacts when she’s brought up. He’s so madly in love and she is too, when they come along they make you wish you had what they had, for two seconds, just two. “Also doing Channie a favour, you know,” he winks and then chuckles, but you don’t find the implications funny, and your stomach twitches in discomfort.

Did Haechan ask him to leave the house empty or is he just being playful? And what if you won’t be the one Haechan takes home?

“I don’t think he’s going home with her,” you say, barely hiding the bitter tone. It’s not an opinion, you’re manifesting because you can’t bear that thought, but Mark is not on your track and he snickers again.

“Think they’ll end up doing it in the bathroom or the car?”

You force out a laugh while replying, “God, I hope not.” But you’re dying inside and you wish Mark would leave so you can run outside, slap yourself, go back inside and find somebody else to fuck that night and put your dumb brain — or heart, but you’re not ready to accept that just yet — to sleep.

“I think he will last until home, he’s not a fan of doing it in unpractical places, dirty or too risky.”

“Is the car risky?”

“Yes,” he replies as if he’s shocked by your underestimation. “People know what goes on even if they can’t see, and then it moves and fogs and it’s… embarrassing. Haechan has never been that attracted to somebody to the point of fucking in a car, he’d rather go home with his balls blue.”

Oh.

“Too much information,” you joke, shrugging off how your body heated up, and Mark apologies through laughter before standing up.

“Sorry again. Man, I’m used to making fun of him with him and got carried away.”

“It’s fine, I’m a grown woman, sex doesn’t traumatize me,” you reassure but your dumb heart is beating weirdly faster in your chest, and the awareness that Haechan never done it with anybody else, that he also broke one of his unspoken rules for you, is driving you insane.

Now you’d like to get up and drag him by the hair and ask him if he would fuck her in a car but you don’t, you can’t. So you say your goodbyes to Mark and then stand up to walk to the bar, some alcohol will do.

“Hey, pretty,” a man’s voice speaks from the side; barely five minutes of peace and you are already crowded with unwanted attention.

“Hi,” you reply back, trying to bite back the bitterness of your voice, whoever that man is, he isn’t the man you want to reach your side.

“All alone here?”

You roll your eyes at his lame pick-up words and at the hint of the smirk you can hear in his voice. “I’m with friends, just need to cool down for a bit.”

“Oh, all dating and all over each other while they forget about you,” he jokes and only then you turn around. Partially true, but being left alone by your friends had never been a problem, you always found someone that wanted to dance with you, even right now you have this man — a handsome man, with black hair, tanned skin, and a somehow not creepy smile — hitting on you but he isn’t the man you want.

“I’m not actually,” you lie, you don’t even know why. You could’ve said yes, flirted with him a bit more, ground against each other for a while before going home, to his place, wait, to his place? What if he was a murderer? And with what car? You should’ve called a Uber, or worst, slept over. But soon you realize his bed isn’t the bed you want to fall asleep into after some draining orgasms. The idea of even being at his place makes your skin crawl and you push down a groan when two brown eyes, auburn hair and bronze skin fill your thoughts instead.

“Then why are you alone? You’re too pretty to be wasted here, sitting all by yourself. I could hear your thoughts from there,” he says, pointing at where he was sitting before.

Your face twitches in irritation, you don’t like being called pretty, not with that tone at least, and not by men that aren’t Hae— anyway, you don’t like it. It feels like mockery and when it comes from men’s lips it feels like they’re trying to box you up there, as if being pretty is all you’re worth but at the same time, they can’t compliment you with words like ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous’ because then they would boost your ego too much and they cannot compete with confident women.

“And what were my thoughts, Harry Potter?” You joke, trying to hide the bitter tone with a forced small smile.

He snorts, shaking his head, and shifting closer to you. Your first reaction is to move away but another body on the other side stops you from going far.

“I don’t recall Harry Potter being able to mind read,” he whispers, and you feel his breath collide against your neck, and his fingers graze your thigh. “Anyway, I could tell you were begging for attention.”

You gulp. You don’t like this anymore, you didn’t like this in the first place, to be honest. But him being all over your personal space without your consent is making you uncomfortable and for some reason, you can’t react like usual. Maybe it’s because he’s not doing anything, or well, not something so evident that wouldn’t make the whole club call you a crazy attention whore for accusing an innocent man.

So, you sit quietly; if you don’t talk back, he’ll get tired and will leave, that’s what you pray for. You just have to wait for a miracle.

And just when you’re about to lose all hope, and the man moves even closer to you, a fit of cough brings you back to earth.

“Honey,” Haechan calls, “sorry, the line at the bathroom was endless. Should we go?”

It takes you a while to realize he’s talking to you, but once your brain registers his voice, you let go of a breath of relief, and when you turn around you meet the pissed-off expression of the man next to you.

“Who’s this?”

“Her boyfriend,” Haechan talks before you can even think of an answer, too dumb you were already thinking of a short way to explain what was going on between you. “Needed something, sir?”

Haechan is clearly mocking him, staring at the stranger with a challenging glare and moving closer to you, almost to shield you from him.

“Nothing, have a great night,” the man mutters angrily before walking away.

“You too!” Haechan screams and then turns to you. “Are you alright? It seemed like he was crossing some lines.”

You’re still shaken, and only mumble some hums as a reply. It’s not really because of that man but mostly because you weren’t expecting this from Haechan. Or worse, you weren’t expecting your heart to react when he called himself your boyfriend.

“I’m fine,” you whisper before briefly looking around, this is getting too much. You don’t give him time to check another time that you’re up and walking speedily to grab your jacket and storm outside. Haechan doesn’t get it, for the nth time he can’t predict anything of you, and he feels guilty because maybe he read you wrong, maybe you were willingly flirting with that man and he fucked up everything. But he still runs after you, and that’s, one, not what you expected, and two, not what you needed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were flirting back with him,” he apologizes, running after you, grabbing your wrist, and forcing you to turn around.

You sniffle, looking at the ground because this is so pathetic and it’s already the second time he catches you crying and you can’t bear how vulnerable you have shown yourself to him — yes, that is too many times for you. Bottling up feelings and emotions is your top skill after programming everything like a mastermind to make sure everything would flow perfectly and everyone would have a very specific image of you, so why the hell are you a mess every time he comes around?

“I can go talk to him and explain it to him —”

“No,” you stop him. “I… I’m a bit overwhelmed because I… I wasted a night out, I could’ve stayed at home and written a little or gone on with my favourite series, but you know…”

“Fleabag?” He taunts, tilting his head as he tries to meet your eyes.

“Yeah,” you whisper, running a hand on your neck.

“You already know it by heart, it would be your tenth rewatch,” he jokes but when you look at him with your lips awkwardly pressed in a thin line, his eyes go wide. “Oh God, you started it again?”

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, “it’s my comfort show, and then the other day I fucked up again, I needed to see myself being a total failure in someone else and Fleabag is always there for me.”

Haechan chuckles, shaking his head, still staring at you with an amused expression. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Need a hot priest too?”

That should make you laugh — oh, how much you wanted that — but it only makes you let out a chocked sob because fuck, he surely doesn’t carry a rosary and the bible is not his favourite book, he can’t say mass, but you feel like Haechan is your hot priest. He’s fucking you up in ways nobody else ever did. Fleabag at least had God and morals to come between them but you, what do you have? Nothing.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling you in a hug, “no hot priests, no judging for your fixations. How about you tell me what is going on?”

“No,” you reply, hiding in his hold. It should be easy, embarrassing but easy, to slur out that you’re a mess because you feared he wasn’t going to pay you a bit of attention, surely you should’ve turned it into a confession of how dick-addicted you were and how badly you needed him — vulgarly, his cock — after an entire week of absence, but it’s not easy to be your usual — or past — self when you feel like you are missing him more than you are missing what he knows how to use best. “You should go inside, she’s waiting for you.” So you place the weight on him, hoping he won’t take you home because you can’t do another night like when you called him in the middle of desperation.

You don’t catch his expression, a held-back smirk mixed with eyes full of surprise, but that would be the look on his face that you’d see if you’d stopped staring at the cobblestones on the sidewalk.

“Are you… jealous?”

Your head is not facing the ground anymore, with a snap so fast you know it’s a miracle you didn’t break your neck, your eyes lock with Haechan’s. And then you laugh, hysterically. It’s a fake laugh and he gets it, he can see you panic, he saw it in your eyes that brief moment they intertwined, and he knows.

You are jealous.

And you know he knows it, so you have to fix this mess.

“Fine, I wanted to fuck you tonight, it’s been a week and I’m kinda needy, and seeing you with her got me mad, but not jealous. Do you know when you’re horny, you think you’re close to getting some relief and then something happens and what you have in mind doesn’t happen anymore?” You ask, and you see in his face that he’s barely following the words you’re spitting out before you can betray yourself. “But it’s fine, my toys are still working, so I can use them instead.”

“Are you walking home?”

Oh, so he doesn’t care about anything you said? He didn’t believe it, right? Fuck, now he’ll think you love him.

“Yes.”

Haechan shakes his head, before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the opposite side. “Come on, don’t make me drag you.”

“I’m not going back inside,” you say, trying to pull away and he stops, sighing.

“Honey, I’m taking you home.”

Oh.

You’d fight if you weren’t a mess, you surely would do it and tell him it’s not necessary, but you need a ride back home so that’s the only reason you say yes. You don’t hope you will break rule number three again and he will fuck away this sadness you’re carrying around. Why are you even sad? He’s there, right at your side, driving you home after you cried like a child in the middle of the street, comparing yourself to a fucking tv series character, an insane character, by the way.

“Do you think I talk to myself?”

“What?” He almost swerves when you talk after five minutes of straight silence.

“Like Fleabag, you know. The thing she does when she talks to us?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen you turn around mid-conversation to stare at a spot behind you or to your side to talk to a camera, so I guess no.”

You sit in silence, blankly staring at the street in front of you. Oh, you do. Not the camera, not really, but you are slowly transcending into the madness of that old cat lady that Johnny always talked about.

“I’m insane,” you cry out.

Haechan laughs, turning to stare at you for a split second, and smiling again at your devasted face. “I just think you’re drunk.”

“I didn’t drink,” you huff, throwing your head back against the seat and closing your eyes while you damn every decision that led you there. “Got two small glasses of something that wasn’t even worth it while I watched you grind on her all night.”

Shit.

Fuck.

“She was hot.”

Think fast. Think fast. Think fast.

“You should’ve gone home with her. Can we go back so I will go home with her?”

“I take it back, you are insane, not drunk,” he giggles, caressing your thigh when the car stops at a traffic light.

You groan. Why is he so unfazed by your weird tactics? Why does he laugh so tenderly even when he’s teasing you? Why does it feel like he holds so much love in his voice, words, and touches? “I’m sorry, it was a shitty night and I’m… overstimulated. Not sexually, but mentally. Everything feels doubled.”

“That’s why I’m taking you home.”

Your brain has many things to say but you keep your mouth shut, you already messed up enough tonight and you’re not sure you can live tomorrow with the consequences of these minor errors already, so adding more to the list wouldn’t be a wise thing.

When you arrive home you don’t move. You should jump off the car to slump in your bed not even changing yourself — once again going against one of the thousands of rules you have in order to survive in the insanity of your sanity. But you don’t want to leave his side. You like being around Haechan, even when you don’t talk, even right now that you feel on the verge of tears again and you can’t blame your hormones, while the music plays from the radio.

And Haechan gets it. Your usual self? Out of the car in a second; the first times you two hung out you barely gave him time to stop before you were under the porch of the complex you lived in. He once again has no idea what’s going on inside you, but he knows he can’t leave you alone. He doesn’t care if you use toys, but for how shaken you look, he knows the only thing you’ll pick up will be the phone to call your ex, and he doesn’t want that. You don’t deserve to be hurt, and your ex doesn’t even deserve to hear your voice.

“Wanna come to my place?” He asks, breaking the silence, staring at you while you’re lost with the gaze in front of you on the quite empty road of your house. “You have everything there anyway.”

You have everything there anyway.

His toothbrush that became yours.

His white t-shirt that became yours.

A new set of towels he had bought just for you.

His favourite mug that became yours.

A warm bed. A pillow with a beating heart. And probably something else you’re not ready to face yet.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

Haechan shouldn’t smile this big when those words leave your lips and you slump in your seat letting go of the tension, but he does. He knows you’re drunk, he knows you’ll go back to being your distant self in the morning, and probably he won’t even find you there when he wakes up, but he likes this new side of you so he wants to enjoy it while it lasts.

Home.

He loves the way it rolls from your lips and how that house feels like home when you’re inside.

Apparently, your new plan is to give Haechan a heart attack, cause when he wakes up in the morning and, not only still finds you there, but finds you cuddled up on top of him, he feels like dying. He is not even sure you are you, maybe he’s making you up and all of this is a dream.

Now that you are awake you feel the same. You are in his bed, wearing his shirt and pants, it’s nine in the morning, your clothes are not scattered on the floor and the sheets aren’t a mess. Why? You know why. Unfortunately, you weren’t drunk enough the night before to forget how embarrassing it had been, but you wish you could find another reason.

“Oh, hi,” he cheers when you enter the kitchen after ten minutes of contemplating whether running away now was a good idea or if the more you acted weird, the worst it got. “Headache?”

“No, luckily no,” you reply, running a hand on your face and sitting on a chair. “Why are you cooking, trying to blow us up?”

“Oh, you’re back, I was starting to worry,” he laughs at your snarky remark, shaking his head.

You don’t reply, only drop on your arms, resting your head on them against the table as you watch him move around. He might not be a good chef, but you love the way he moves, it’s like his body always makes sure to remind you of all the years he spent doing ballet, and even if he hates it now, you’re glad he did it.

He’s hot, even in the morning, even with his eyes still sleepy and hair a mess. But you feel like something of the crazy, pungent, chemistry that used to buzz between you stopped doing so. Or maybe this is a friend moment without the benefits? You can’t tell, and you just want to get back on the benefits again because the whole friends’ thing is turning romantic and you don’t like it.

So, your feet move quickly, making you reach him in a second and wrap your arms around his body.

“What are you—”

“Shh,” you shush him, moving your hands lower on his abdomen.

“Oh, sure, of course, you weren’t just hugging me, fuck,” he curses when you tease his inner thighs, never touching his sensitive part. There is a hint of sadness in his words but you pretend you don’t get it.

“Want you, Hyuckie,” you pout against his ear, and you can feel him shiver in your hold.

“Not now,” he murmurs, reaching for your hand to move it away.

“Then when?” You ask, slipping your hand into the rubber band after you slapped his away. “You never fucked me in the morning, you know?”

Haechan gulps and turns off the stove, hands losing their grip on everything they touch while your hands kept teasing him more and more.

“When we had all, mhh, day to ourselves,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes as he tries to don’t give in to you.

“Fucked me in the evening, at night, and in the afternoon.”

“You slept till noon of course I couldn’t fuck you in your sleep.”

“Well, couldn’t or wouldn’t, you still didn’t, and I need you to do it now.”

Haechan’s breath falters when your fingers wrap around his dick and start moving to get him hard, head reclined low as he tries to hold in the moans you’re dragging out of him.

“Can you get hard for me?” You whisper teasingly and Haechan groans, glaring at you.

“Now you think I can’t get hard?”

You chuckle at his voice and also because you can feel his cock hardening in your hand with each stroke on it.

“Good,” you hum, starting to kiss his neck and when his head rolls back and he searches for your lips on his, you pull away.

“Oh, cool, went back to phase one?” He says and you can hear the bit of anger in his voice even if he’s trying to hide it.

You don’t know what to reply, you can turn it into something sexual, so he won’t get mad and keep this thing going. You don’t even know why you pulled away. Well, yes, you do, but why are you so afraid all of a sudden?

“Fuck me first and then maybe later you’ll get a kiss.” This will do, coming out sultrily it only sounds like dirty talk and hides your insecurities. “You left me hanging for too long to get what you want so easily.”

And Haechan falls for it, groaning again and leaning back on your shoulder while his eyes are shut and from his lips start to come out more moans.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he whimpers, fucking back into your hands.

You smirk, finding yourself staring at his blissed face a bit too long, but he looks just so beautiful like this, with his long lashes resting on his full soft cheeks, and his plump lips parted to let out soft, raspy whimpers.

“Wanna come?”

“In — fuck — in your mouth, please. Use your mouth.”

Your hands leave his dick, and you take two steps back.

“Turn around and take your pants off,” you order and stare at him following your instructions in the blink of an eye. When he’s done, you get on your knees and don’t waste time taking his hard cock in your mouth.

“Shit,” Haechan groans, throwing his head back and wrapping his hands in your hair, he doesn’t force your face down, leaving total control in your hands, he simply likes to hold on to you somehow.

You go for a steady rhythm, not fast but not slow to tease him and waste more time. You’re dripping and you need him inside you soon. And for your luck, it doesn’t take him long to come. After all, you know him and what drives him crazy. So one of your hands fondles his balls while the other wraps around his base, and start working on him while your tongue and cheeks focus on his tip. You also know that he loves hearing you moan around him, and watching your eyelid flatter as you stare up at him, and he never told you but when tears start spilling out of the corner of your eyes, his cock throbs harder.

“Mhh, fuck, fuck,” he rasps out, followed by chants of your name as his knees wobble and his hips buck up while he comes in your mouth. His eyes roll back when you pull away with a pop sound and then swallow everything without breaking eye contact. “You drive me insane,” he mutters, running his fingers through his hair, breathing deeply.

“Fuck me,” you urge, standing up again, his words flying over your head. “Please.”

Haechan nods, shaking his head to try to shake the post-orgasm haze out of his mind. “Come here,” he hums, pulling you closer, moving his hands on your body to undress you of the pants and underwear before lifting you on the countertop.

But that’s not what you want.

“No,” you huff, squirming in his hold. “From behind, please.”

That’s not what Haechan wants, when you fuck in that position is because you want it particularly hard and that’s not what he wants to give to you, not now. He’s still trapped in that sense of what was different from the night before and he’s not ready to bear with your shift to your old self again. But when he looks into your eyes, he realizes that spell is already far gone, no more tenderness or heartfelt conversation, just sex and greed.

But you are still there, and it never happened before, and this is better than nothing, so he gives you what you want.

“Bend over,” he says, helping you off the kitchen and waiting for you to get in position. He would find the view hot, incredibly hot, your ass pushing back up into him, your wet folds pressing against the tip of his cock, your hips swinging in desperation, and it is hot, but he can’t enjoy it fully; if it only wasn’t for that small twinge of pain in his heart.

“Please, fuck me,” you beg again when he doesn’t push in right away, too lost at staring blankly at your back.

“Are you in a rush? Somewhere to be better than here?” He bites back, it’s a bitter tease, not a sensual one, and his voice trembles, and so do his hands on your hips.

“I need you, please,” you grunt, throwing your head down, “please.”

Haechan swallows the gulp in his throat and pushes into you. He’s always delicate when he thrusts in the first time, he knows you’re wet and ready to take him but he’s always careful and you wish you didn’t find it so attractive, but you do. Nobody ever cared for you that much during sex, well, nobody ever cares for you that much in general.

And when he starts moving in and out of you, your heart loses another beat. He fills you up so nicely, you hate to compliment every part of him but fuck, he’s perfect, he fits perfectly and you feel him everywhere, it’s like he was made just for you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you clench down on him. “Want it harder, babe?”

“Yes, please.”

His hips start snapping against you in a fast rhythm, causing your bones to hit the hard surface of the countertop, but you don’t care, you even find the slight pain more exciting.

Haechan’s groans fill your ears, as the grip of his hands on you gets incredibly tighter. It’s rough like you asked but not how you’re used to. You don’t dare to turn your neck to get a peek at him but you know his brows are knitted and his eyes are dark. This doesn’t feel like fun like your usual hard fucks, it’s like a sense of sadness and bitterness is running between you and it makes your heart sting.

“Haechan,” you call out his name, and only for a second his grip softens, but you don’t continue, you don’t even know what you want, or if you want something.

“What?” He growls in response, hips slamming harshly against your ass. “Is this still not enough? Am I still not enough? Will I ever be enough for you?”

Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel a tear streak down your eyes and you shake your head swiftly, trying to hold onto something. “No, it is,” you breathe out. “You are, fuck, you are enough,” you cry, hissing when he slaps your ass.

“Yeah? Then what do you want? What do I have to do to make you happy?”

“Kiss me,” you mumble, pushing your head back, trying to reach for his lips. “Ple-please, want you — umh — you all over me.”

And when he leans in, kissing you with eagerness, it’s like the gloomy cloud that was shadowing over you dissolves in the air, his grip turns delicate, and his face relaxes, while his hips slow down until they come to a stop. Haechan doesn’t pull away and you don’t care you’re almost struggling for air, feeling breathless, gasping against his lips makes you feel alive more than ever.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling away with a gasp. He stares at your face for a moment, watching a tear roll down your cheeks, and he’s tempted to wipe it away with a gentle touch of his fingers, but he doesn’t give in to temptation. If you weren’t in yourself the night before, he’s not in himself right now, and he feels that he might want to see you cry, cry for him.

Another guttural sound rolls from his lips when he drifts his gaze away and pushes you flat on the countertop with force, picking up the same rhythm as before, snapping against you so fast that your heart starts racing faster in your chest that’s raising up and down in a frenetic rhythm.

“Too — too much,” you whimper, letting your shoulder relax when you fear you won’t be able to keep your body up much more.

Haechan snickers, moving a hand down to knead the flesh of your ass harshly as he leans closer to you. “Really? Thought you asked me to fuck you like this.”

You nod weakly, muscles of your neck sore, and you close your eyes because you feel more tears threatening to spill out, it’s a mix of physical pleasure and mental — emotional — pain you can’t deal with.

“I would’ve fucked you differently,” he almost growls next to your ears, and you know he’s mad. “Nice and slow, probably would’ve even eaten you out but you asked for this and I’m giving you this,” his voice almost breaks and his hips falter, his heart is beating so loud in his ribcage you can feel it against your back. “Want me to stop?” And here he is, as always, no matter the pain you put him through by playing a game of hide and seek inside your true self where he can’t grasp anything real, his voice still turns soft, weak, almost shy, as he makes sure this truly is not getting too much for you. Because you hit left and right with your sword and your blinded eyes but he won’t ever hurt you even if he’s clearly the one bleeding.

“No,” you sniffle, opening your eyes to try to glimpse at his, but the position doesn’t offer you a great view. “Want you, please. I — I need you, Hyuck, so much.”

He nods quickly and then starts thrusting into you, this time he won’t stop until you come, but he pushes your body up against his because he needs you. He needs your scent to be all over his skin, he needs to remind himself you’re not a dream even if you continuously slip from his fingers, he needs to remind you and himself that he’s the only one that has you like this. He is the best you ever had and that’s a little consolation.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me,” he whimpers, forehead frowning while sweat starts pearling his skin as he looks at your ass bouncing on him. “Gonna come?”

“Ye-yes, please,” you beg, and you don’t even know why. You don’t have to ask for his permission to come but it’s like you want him to end this moment.

“Hold on just a bit more, I’m close,” he replies, “want to come with you.”

You nod mindlessly, letting out louder and whinier moans while your hands desperately search for some kind of contact and your legs shake as your orgasm builds up with more violence inside you.

“Be a good girl and come with me,” he orders and you feel one of his hands reach in front of your body until it finds your clit. He groans loudly when your pussy clenches hard around him and your body tenses up while your orgasm washes over, leaving you with your mouth parted but too breathless to let out sounds. Haechan’s not silent, he curses your name and some swear words while his hips keep ramming into you as he pumps his cum in and out of your hole.

“Shit,” he comments, pulling out of you sooner than you wish he would, leaving you empty and cold.

You think he’s behind you, but when you turn around struggling, you see he’s not in the kitchen anymore and you collapse on the floor, legs too weak and trembling to hold you and your heavy heart up.

You’re not sure how many minutes pass while you sit naked on the floor of his kitchen with your hands in your hair wondering where did you go wrong. You just know it feels like an eternity and when you hear footsteps approach, you quickly jump on your feet to cover up and don’t let him find you like that.

Once you pulled back up your clothes, and he’s back in the room, you don’t know what to say, and you don’t even feel like staring at him.

“You can…” he starts but then stops and when your eyes lift from the ground, you see he’s turned around, turning on the stoves again.

“I can?”

“Nothing,” he mutters. “You know where everything in this house is. Do whatever you want.”

“Are you — are you mad?” You chuckle nervously, shaky fingers fixing your hair behind your ears.

He shrugs, shaking his head, “I’m not, I just know you won’t do what I propose, so if you want to eat, take a shower and grab some new clothes, do it. But if you want to leave, it’s fine, too.”

You bite your lips; you know your typical answer would be easy: leave. But right now, it feels like the wrong one. You can’t bet on it, but Haechan seems sad, even angry, and the cold wall between you and his back is making you feel guilty for something you don’t even know. You just proposed to fuck, it was normal in your relationship, so why was he mad and why were you sad? What happened in that fragment when your bodies were tangled in a mess bigger than what it looked like?

“I’ll stay for a bit…” you whisper and when he turns around with wide eyes you add, “if it’s fine for you.”

“Yeah, I told you, everything you decide it’s fine for me. Want breakfast?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“And maybe new clothes?” He smiles, tilting his head to the side, warm dispersing on his face again.

“Your closet?”

“My closet.”

The names you start slurring in bed don’t belong to Haechan. Honestly, you haven’t seen Haechan in over two weeks now. That morning you needed him to prove you something, only to be proven the complete opposite. Things with him weren’t going where you planned them to go in the first place.

And the best solution would be to talk about it, set some boundaries again, or put an end to things like adults, but, even if the years pass by, you feel like you only keep getting older but not wiser.

You think you are stupid and childish, and you hate yourself.

But you still don’t pick the best solutions. Actually, you don’t pick solutions at all, you just fuck things up because you’re not used to them going right.

You ghosted him. Left his place after breakfast with a promise to text him in the week just to never pick up the phone to go to his contact again. You even have to avoid Johnny and your friend’s nights out because you can’t face him.

You feel like you cheated on him. No, there wasn’t written or slurred speech anywhere that you two were exclusive but you two were exclusive. Haechan never fucked someone else behind your back, and he also most of the times implied he didn’t because, since you two did it raw, he wanted to make sure he was only active with you.

And you… you crossed a line you shouldn’t have crossed.

You went back to your ex and met up with two people you met at a club, when, too heartbroken, you needed someone to fill the void inside of you, only for things to get worst and leave you heartbroken, full of guilt and unsatisfied.

You should pick up your phone, call him over and explain, you’re still in time to fix this in a way he won’t hate you forever, but you don’t.

You go to work, come back home, slump on the couch with food and movies, or stay out running until you can barely feel your legs, stand under the shower as if the bill won’t crash you at the end of the month and then go to sleep, or try to, while you fight with your brain and heart and the emotions none of the three of you knows how to cope with, just to do it all over again the next day.

It’s an endless routine where you try to push him out, but it doesn’t seem to work.

It had always been easy to delete people from your life like this. One cut, one push out of your protected zone, and they were long forgotten.

So why is it so hard with him?

But you still don’t pick up that damn phone, not even when a month passes by and Haechan reaches for you, apologizing.

[Monday]

pathetic loser hey, it’s been a while i just wanted to check if everything’s alright

[Wednesday]

pathetic loser will you be there at johnny’s dinner at his place?

maybe we can talk there?

[Friday]

pathetic loser i didn’t ask johnny but i guess you won’t be there so i just hope you’re okay

You don’t reply, only stare at those texts trying to force yourself to grab the phone and call him because he deserves that more than a dry reply in a text. But you don’t know what to say, and you’d probably hope he won’t answer the call, so you’ll have an excuse to say you’ve tried but he didn’t reply. And when you try to come up with something that can explain to him this whole situation and at the same time don’t tear you apart, another week passes by.

[Thursday]

pathetic loser i won’t bother you again i promise

i just wanted to apologize if i did something that made you uncomfortable that night/morning

i don’t know what it is but it’s fine if you don’t want to tell me, after all you don’t owe me anything

it was just sex anyway so it’s fine

i will stop hanging around with johnny when i know he plans with all of us so you don’t have to avoid him too

he misses you, please don’t let some sex come between your friendship

anyway back to us, i know i sound like a loser but i had fun and i hope you don’t regret this totally, sorry if i messed something up i didn’t do it on purpose

i’ve written too much so yeah hope you’re fine, have a great life (you can block me if you want to, if you didn’t already)

You don’t reply even this time, but you cry and sob into your pillow, covered by your sheets as the phone glows in the dark. And you cry and cry until you feel like you can’t breathe and the weight on your chest gets heavier and pushes you down into your misery.

It was supposed to be just silly, superficial, and fun sex, how did it turn into this?

Haechan didn’t mean to mess something up.

But Haechan doesn’t know that the only thing he messed up with is your heart.

It takes you a while, but you get over him and get back to your daily life, the real one. No more depressing couch-sitting-eating sessions or extremely exhausting workouts to burn your brain down, no more avoiding social life and crying yourself to sleep.

Johnny didn’t understand what happened, he felt like there was something going on between you and Haechan, but you never told him anything and you wouldn’t keep that a secret to yourself, right? Not from him at least. But even if he didn’t know the reasoning he gently, and friendly, dragged you out of the house without asking many questions, he just wanted you back.

And you were back, a bit less chatty and loud, with a lightly dimmed glow in your eyes, and with a tongue that stopped flirting with every breathing being, but you were there.

Haechan had disappeared, he was true to his promise, and you never saw him in the mixed-groups group hangouts, so moving on from him had been easier.

You don’t hear his laugh anymore, you don’t laugh at his jokes, you can’t feel his hand secretly and gently rest on your thighs under the table, he can’t rest his head on your shoulder when the alcohol kicks in and he is too wasted, you don’t have someone to dance with or run away back home when your social battery dies.

You don’t have him.

And it sucks.

But you try not to show it. You are trying to move on, and even if you hate how tortuous it feels this time and how you still look for his dumb-looking, slap-attracting, handsome, kissable face, you are trying.

You are also failing.

When the seventh drink of the night reaches your stomach, you’re not even sure you’d be able to answer if someone asked what’s your name. And you hate that a name is still loud and clear, ringing in your mind like a permanent reminder that maybe, just maybe, you are not getting over him.

So, you drag your legs up and feel your head turn, everything is spinning but you need to find someone that will drown him out. You can’t keep going on like this.

“Hi,” you mumble when you reach the bar and sit clumsily on the stool.

“Oh, hi, babe. Look what we have here,” the man replies, studying you.

“Wanna fuck?”

“Oh, you go straight to the point, and I wouldn’t say no if only you didn’t look completely out of yourself.”

“I’m not,” you reply, shaking your head — terrible idea, everything spins faster, and you have to squeeze your eyes to find balance again. “I just had a few drinks.”

“A few?”

“Yeah. I can take you home,” you wink, caressing his arm with two fingers and the stranger chuckles before shaking his head.

“I think we need to find somebody that knows you to take you home. Are you alone?”

You shake your head. “You could take me home. I’m good, I give amaaazing blowjobs.”

“I don’t want to doubt your abilities, but you’re drunk,” he says, starting to look around, hoping to be lucky enough to make eye contact with someone you may know.

“Come on, I need this. Is it because you think you can’t take me?” You still insist, pressing your finger on his chest in an accusative tone.

He snorts, “I can take you, but sober. Hey,” he calls someone, waving his hand and at the same time trying to keep your body up with his other one.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Johnny’s voice is clear and too loud, especially when he groans your name angrily after you try to avoid him.

“Do you know him?”

“He’s my bestie,” you say, rolling your eyes. “My bad, bad bestie. He made me meet someone that broke my heart, don’t let me go with him, pleaseee.”

“Man, she needs aspirin and a bed.”

Johnny nods, grabbing your arm and pulling you from the sit, “Yeah, I can see. Thank you for not taking advance of her.”

“Should be the norm,” he smiles. “Take care. And maybe talk with whoever broke your heart.”

“No,” you reply angrily, crossing your arms on your chest. “I’m mad at you,” you say to Johnny, trying to walk away from him but you need his support to don’t wiggle around like jelly. “You first say I need some fun and then the fun breaks my heart and now the fun at the bar is not okay because I’m not sober to you and him and why I can’t have nice things?”

Johnny stares at you as if you’re crazy; he had seen you drunk but never like this, so miserable, and the fact he has not even a faint idea of how and why you are like this, doesn’t sit right with him. “Why don’t we sit in a corner and talk?”

“I don’t want to. I want Haechan,” you slur out, collapsing on the sit and resting your head on his chest, but the music is loud and Johnny’s not sure he heard right.

“You want who?”

“Haehan,” you mumble against his shirt.

“Okay, I don’t know who or what you want but we need to go home, come on. Please, drag your feet to the car, I’ll carry you inside your place but please, let’s just make it to the car.”

Johnny has to carry you to the car in his arms because you are a boneless mess and he doesn’t want to end the night at the hospital because you broke your ankles on those damn heels; mental reminder to gift you heels you can easily walk on even when you have more alcohol than blood running in your veins.

The drive back home is a blur in your brain, you’re sure you’re not sleeping, but your head is spinning and at some point, you start shedding some tears and mumble chants of a name, Johnny supposes, but he can’t get it right. Your voice is low and groggy, and sobs come through every whimper that escapes your lips.

“My place or yours?” He asks, hoping you can give him an answer, but you answer other doubts instead.

“Hyuck,” you whisper, and Johnny finally has all the puzzle pieces to put together.

When you wake up in the morning with a throbbing headache and your stomach turned upside down, the last thing you want to deal with is your best friends’ stares and glances he throws at you as if he knows something you don’t know he knows.

You don’t ask him any questions right away, your brain is too far gone to deal with it, but after another aspirin and a coffee, you feel like you’re ready to face him. Except you’re not quite ready for what’s to come.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, rubbing your temples while you rest your elbows on his kitchen table.

“Haechan,” he replies with a smirk on his face as if he finally got you right where he wanted you, cornered. And well, you feel like you are, and maybe you should’ve waited a bit longer cause your acting skills are not at their best right now, but you take another sip from your cup, shrug, and then reply nonchalantly.

“What about him?”

Johnny’s eyes roll back as he huffs loudly. “Do we really have to do this?”

“Do what? You bring him up out of nowhere,” you say, but the calmness of your voice is being betrayed by the nervous bouncing of your leg and Johnny gets it immediately, and that’s when he shoots his arrow.

“You love him.”

“What?” You almost spit the coffee out while you stare at your best friend with wide eyes, hoping to see a reaction, hoping that this disgusted him to the point he will get up and focus on cleaning the table and insult you instead of twisting the knife in the wound that’s called ‘me and Haechan.’ But he’s impassive, and it’s written all over his face that he’s not buying it, or anyway, he wants to dig deep into all the secrets you kept from him.

“You love him,” he repeats, and those words coming out so slowly from his mouth make shivers run down your spine.

“I don’t,” you reply sternly, getting up to clean the spilled coffee and keep yourself busy.

“You do. You slurred his name all the way back home and I thought I was crazy until you said Hyuck and hell no, that’s him.” Johnny reaches you and now you also feel physically cornered by his big body — why the hell is he so big? — and physically disgusted because you did what? And why couldn’t he leave you in somebody else home? Slurring his name to a stranger wouldn’t have been as embarrassing as what you did.

“So? Are you going to answer? Or keep denying?” He presses you again, and before he can scold you as he usually does with an annoyed call of your name in a stern tone, you snap.

“We used to fuck, okay?”

“You did what?” Johnny almost screams at your face, and you push him back to walk to the living room.

“Don’t be surprised, you literally set us up.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me? What happened to our friendship and our rules.” Johnny’s voice cracks as he tries to accept that you, his best friend, sister of another mother, and partner in crimes, really kept all of this behind him.

“Oh, screw rules, all those fucking rules I never know how to respect,” you huff, falling on the couch and holding your head in your hands. And Johnny has to rub his temples because all of this is insane and surreal to his ears.

“You don’t know how to respect them? You. Miss little rules?”

“Shut up.”

“Wait… your rules about sex? Are you talking about all that crap you believe won’t make you catch feelings?”

“It never made me catch feelings. It always worked. Clear boundaries, good sex, and everybody on their way.”

Johnny smirks, kneeling in front of you so you can’t avoid his gaze anymore. “You broke them.”

“I didn’t,” you mutter, and you want to slap his face because why is he having so much fun seeing your breakdown?

“You did. You just told me; you got mad when I mentioned them, and you wouldn’t get mad unless something didn’t go as you planned.”

“Nothing happened,” you retort, leg bouncing progressively faster as you feel your heart race and your body burn.

“No, you broke them.”

“I didn’t.”

“You fell in love with him.”

“Don’t,” you stop him with a glare that doesn’t scare away the smirk on his face. Instead, the look in your eyes, the way your lips are twitching, and your continuous nervous movements are everything Johnny needs to let him know he’s right.

“You fell in love with Haechan.”

You almost scream when those words roll from his lips, you hate hearing that thought, that fear that has been lingering in your brain every night for a month now. “Shut up, don’t make things up. I broke the rules of not telling you we fucked.”

“Oh, no, girl, I know you. You’re fidgeting with your fingers, and your voice is shaking, you’re straight-up lying and you can sell that bullshit to anybody else but not me, so spill the fuck you have to spill or else we’re going to have a long day.”

“There’s nothing to know. We started fucking, and then stopped, but I’m in my unlucky month and I don’t find anybody that’s good enough to satisfy me. And that’s why I’m breaking rules, I like to have fun, but I don’t like to try so many people and fuck with every person I see, you know I hate it.”

“Then why are you doing it? Your toys are not enough anymore?”

“Yeah, I’ll stick to them,” you cut it short, trying to avoid his eyes because you know you will fall. Johnny has this power of dragging things out of your mouth, you’re lucky he didn’t get the tiniest hint of what was going on between you and Haechan or he would’ve made you face some painful truths a long time ago.

“If it was so good, why did you stop?”

You shrug. Fuck.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t know, he wanted to see new people and we just stopped.”

“Really?” Johnny asks with a teasing edge to his voice, clearly mocking you. “He’s not seeing anybody.”

“Maybe he didn’t tell you. You didn’t know about us, and we were both friends with you, so. Or maybe he didn’t find another one, just like me.”

“He seems rather heartbroken, and he asked a weird question about you.”

Now it’s your time to be shocked. He asks about you? He doesn’t hate you after the way you treated him? You’re still in his mind? No, why would any of this matter? Why do you care? It doesn’t matter. “What?” Well, it shouldn’t matter.

“If everything was alright or if something happened to you.”

“Just checking on people is normal.” You shake it off with a nod and raise of shoulders, but something inside you is burning. It’s that flame you think you put out and yet found a way to spark up every time you don’t think about it.

“Not asking if something happened,” he says before walking around and studying you. You are avoiding his gaze and are a raging ball of nervousness, you weren’t even like this with your ex-boyfriend, let alone with your few hook-ups. And then something else clicks in his brain. “Did you cut him off without a word?” And when you don’t answer, and he calls out your name with urgency, you can’t lie anymore.

“Maybe,” you reply with a loud groan, your head falling backwards with force, hitting the backrest so hard you hurt yourself even if there’s the cushion dividing you from the hard surface. “Maybe I did.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He shouts, throwing his hands over his head.

“Johnny, please, I don’t need a lecture right now, okay? I know I was rude, and an asshole.”

“No, you’re in love, it’s different.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Why are you lying? You never called your ex-boyfriend’s name while you were wasted, you never broke any of your rules for him, it took you nothing to move on, and the only reason you got back was because you wanted revenge and because you needed to fill your life with something. You never cared for him nearly as half of what you care for Haechan, so why lie, and why lie to me?”

“I don’t want to,” you sniffle, suddenly feeling your brain spin again while your nails sink into the fabric of the pants Johnny gave you.

“Talk to me?”

“No, to love him.”

There it is; the loud confession. That confession you didn’t even do to yourself alone in the darkness of your room. It’s still bouncing against the walls of Johnny’s place in plain sight under the bright daylight and it pierces your ears and your heart.

Fuck. You’re screwed.

Your eyes lock with Johnny’s and your brain would like to lie and mumble some nonsense but your heart can’t keep bleeding without being taken care of anymore. So, hot salt starts streaming down your face silently and your head faces the ground while two strong arms wrap around you.

You’re screwed.

When you’ve cried all your tears in Johnny’s arms, and you feel like you can try to put it down to words you do it. Maybe with Johnny by your side, it will be easier.

“I don’t know what the hell he did to me.”

“That’s a nice start.”

“I’m not saying I didn’t consider the possibility of this going down a different path and starting to allow feelings in but… like this? I’ve never felt like this before, not even when I fell first, and I’m not even sure I’ve ever loved somebody before if this is how it’s supposed to feel.”

“Then why don’t just let yourself go for once? You don’t have to always have everything under control.”

“But I’m scared. I hated seeing him with someone that wasn’t me. The mere idea of him being with somebody else now makes me sick. This is scary.”

“Love can be scary at times, but that’s what it is.”

You breathe in deeply and rub your temples. “But what if it’s wrong? What if… God, I’m doing all this and I’m not even sure he likes me back.”

“Well, if it’s right, you know, right?”

You shrug, you thought it was right so many times before, and then it never was but this felt different, everything about Haechan hits different, it truly was like an arrow straight to your heart purposefully made to hit you straight to the core and cut you deep.

Johnny sighs, you already talked too much today and faced the truth, he knows he can’t push you any further.

“I’m not saying you have to take him back but… sometimes you can take the good things life gives you without tearing them into pieces. It will tear you into pieces if you keep putting rules to things that are destined to flow freely.”

Going back to the coast feels like torture, especially when both you and Haechan forgot to ask Johnny if the other was there and found out only when you hopped out of the cars and locked eyes after months.

No, you didn’t pick up the phone even after that conversation with Johnny. It felt humiliating to crawl back to him after so much time, so you decided that whatever was going on, was destined to die.

But when your eyes jump into his again, and cheesily, it feels like the time had stopped, you’re not so sure whatever was, or is, going on, is destined to die.

It’s awkward when you don’t know if you should greet him or not, but luckily in the mess of everyone greeting each other, you lose him in the ‘crowd’ of friends. Fortunately, most of them found somebody to bring along so there are double of people than the last time. Unfortunately, that leads you and Haechan to the same room of this summer. Of course, nobody knows, and you’re not quick enough to retort when Mark decides like this after sorting everybody else in other rooms, and Johnny’s not there to save your ass — probably he wouldn’t.

The tension can be cut with a knife and you feel like your head is exploding while you two make your way to the room and then start to put your things in place.

“I can sleep on the couch,” Haechan says, breaking the suffocating silence.

“No, it’s fine,” you almost choke on your words, unprepared, non-expecting he would talk to you first, “we did worse things together,” you chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood but you only get a forced snicker back before he turns around and gives you his back again. You know that wasn’t the smartest answer you could give, but you don’t know how to ease the tension and the heavy weight of guilt in the pit of your stomach.

You want to talk, that should be the right moment to do it, to apologize, at least. But you’re tongue-tied.

“Is there even something to do here during winter?” He speaks, still giving you his back, and it takes you a while to understand he’s addressing you.

“Uhm, yes,” you reply. “The city is nice, and there are mountains just forty minutes away from here so… usually with our families we used to ski.”

“Great,” Haechan hums, standing up, brushing his hands on his pants to flatten the creases of the fabric, “never done it before. Guess I’ll take a look around town. Last time I didn’t get to visit it,” he smiles before walking out and you feel the ground collapse under your feet.

You won’t survive three days like this.

You hated spending time in that house during winter when you were a child, the sun didn’t shine bright enough, the sand was wet and sticky, and you didn’t know how to ski, also you never got why your family spent so much money on that sport when they clearly weren’t as rich as Johnny’s parents, and no one of you was good enough for it to even be fun.

Now nothing changed, the cloudy weather over the sea is depressing, and watching your friends have fun is not making you feel any better, you still don’t know how to ski, and you have a lump in your throat as your brain runs faster than you, screaming how you put yourself in this situation.

The tea in your hand is not hot enough, you wasted too much time stealing glimpses at Haechan and his new crush to drink it when Johnny served it to everybody after all of you came back from the — for you terrible — ski session this afternoon. You didn’t do anything but sit on a bench and hold back your tears while everybody else was having fun. You should’ve stayed at home, it would’ve been better than having to deal with Wonyoung — apparently, that was her name — laugh and giggle every time Haechan opened his mouth, or their intertwined hands while they both tried to learn how to use the ski. And now it’s not going better, she’s sitting on his lap while he caresses her hair with one hand and the other draws circles on her palm, and all your friends are sharing knowing glares as they point at them.

You never had that with him, and the jealousy mixes with bitterness, until you realize that the arrangement you had didn’t include any of that. So why did you want it so much? Why do you want to be her so badly right now?

You sigh, running a finger on the mug in front of you, staring at the brownish liquid as if by magic you’re going to see your future in it, but you think it’s better like this, you’re pretty sure the picture would be a tragedy anyway.

When the talks get irritating, you decide to go back to your room, not even saying anything, you’re not sure about what they want to do, it was in the air to eat at a place downtown but you didn’t pay their talks much attention. You decide to go for a shower with the hope it will relax you and wash away some heaviness, but nothing much changes once you’re out and dressed up in clean clothes. It only gets worse when you open your room, and Haechan is there, laying on the bed with a hand behind his head and his phone in the other.

You pass in front of him, not saying a word, silently putting back in your purse your shampoo and conditioner, and other things you carried with you. He doesn’t talk either. It has been like this the whole day, barely acknowledging each other and now it’s getting too heavy. You owe him an apology, not to make things get back in place, they never will, but because he didn’t deserve it.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you say, turning around, “I’m sorry I avoided you.”

Haechan lifts his head, a small frown connecting his brows for a while, almost as if he’s trying to get what you’re referring to, and when he does, the muscles of his face relax. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I didn’t want to… to leave you like this.”

“It doesn’t matter, you had all the right to stop it,” he shrugs, looking down for a second, probably closing the app on his phone because you don’t hear the faint sound of the video playing anymore. “I don’t cry for sex.”

You hum, but you study his face to understand if he’s serious. Was it just sex for him? Were you just sex for him?

“I…” you stop and look away. Your leg is bouncing nervously and you’re playing with your fingers, pressing your nails into your skin. “I have to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I… I lo—”

“Haechannie!” Wonyoung’s voice rings loudly in the room, stopping you from going on. “We are taking a look around, want to come with me and keep me warm? Also, we’ll have dinner together.” You shouldn’t find the way she bats her eyes so irritating, neither her voice, or the way she’s looking at him right now, but you feel like puking, and you hope Haechan will decline; out of all the things he said before, you heard he was tired and wanted to go to bed, so he will say no, right?

“Yeah, I’d love to. Be there in a minute.”

“Ah! You’re the best, baby,” she cheers, running to leave a kiss on his cheeks and then walking out.

“You were saying?” He asks, turning his attention on you, shaking his hair out of his forehead.

You shake your head, gulping. “Nothing,” you smile, it’s forced and fake, and if he’d look closely, he’d see a tear at the corner of your eyes, but he doesn’t. He’s looking at you with his head slightly tilted in mild concern, but you know it’s just for niceties.

“It seemed serious, though?”

“It was just another apology you don’t want,” you breathe out in a bitter chuckle, rubbing your hands on your thighs while your gaze meets the floor. “I lost track of myself during the time we drifted apart, I’m sorry it… it fired back to you.”

“Oh,” he says, “it’s fine, seriously. I just care that you’re fine. You are fine, right?”

You hold back a sob and smile, feeling tears at the corner of your eyes. “Never been better.”

“Good,” he smiles. “You coming?”

“No, I’m tired, I’ll go to bed like a child that has school tomorrow at 8.”

Haechan laughs and then grabs his jacket. “’Kay, don’t take all the bed. You still have that bad habit, don’t you?”

You chuckle, giving him an apologetic look, “I have a bed too big for me only, I’m not used to sharing.”

He nods and then opens the door. “Leave a small patch for me, and don’t have too much fun all alone,” he winks.

You smile and then wave him goodbye.

If crying yourself to sleep was fun, you were about to have the funniest night of your life.

“Been a while, isn’t it?”

The last thing you expect to find in the morning is Haechan’s face looking down at you with a teasing smirk while you rest too close to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you say, sitting up in the blink of an eye, trying to rub the sleep off your face and scoot away from him.

Haechan scoffs under his breath, painting that bitterness with irony, “It’s nice to know you didn’t change.”

You chuckle awkwardly and then jump off the bed.

“No, definitely didn’t change,” he whispers when you run away from his fingers again. He wants to block you in, to stop you from slipping away, but if he couldn’t do it months ago, he doesn’t see how he can do it now. After all, you’ve never been his. This isn’t different from what you used to do in the morning, now he looks at you and can see that nothing changed. You’re up, putting your hair in a ponytail, rushing to the bathroom to wash up, and he knows you won’t even come back into the room, but run downstairs to have breakfast.

You are long gone and he doesn’t even know how and why he lost you. Maybe it’s better like this, maybe all this silence coming from you can give him a reason to hate you and move on.

But moving on from you seems something impossible to do.

From that moment on, you two decide you can go back to at least be friends and hang out in the same group again. It’s not exactly like before, but it’s better than silence and distance.

Or maybe not.

You can’t stand that Haechan doesn’t sit next to you anymore, he’s always on the other side with Wonyoung, and you can’t bet on it, but you fear that his hand is now resting on her thigh and you hate it.

You don’t show it, not with words, but your body is a neon sign flashing that you don’t want to be there, especially when everyone leaves to take on the dance floor and you’re left with your thoughts.

“Why are you always alone?” Mark asks. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Minjeong, but I can still see you’re beautiful and hot, why are you the only single one?”

“The only one?” That’s the only thing your brain registers, making you stare at him with eyes too wide to make it pass like a normal reaction.

“Well, it seems that even Hyuck found someone that can stand his annoying ass,” he jokes, pointing at him and Wonyoung.

“Oh, I didn’t get they were official,” you whisper, your lips quiver, making it look like a smile but it’s pure sadness.

“So it seems, he’s quite private over this.”

You hum and feel your heart break into million pieces again. It shouldn’t hit you so hard and leave you trembling, but it does.

“What about you?”

You shrug, rubbing your arms. “I’m the problem, that’s why I’m single.”

Mark chuckles tenderly, sitting next to you. “So, you’re heartbroken.”

“Maybe.”

“Was it serious?”

“It wasn’t even started.”

“Oh, well, isn’t that better? Maybe it wasn’t even love,” he attempts to lift you up, trying to see it from another perspective. “A lot of times what we tend to consider love is not it. It’s just a lie, something else dressed up as a feeling that is not that deep.”

Yeah, you wish it was it.

“Yeah, surely,” you reply, by now there are no emotions in your voice. “I don’t care, I moved on. I just hate sitting here while looking miserable.”

“Why don’t you go talk to someone? I think that girl at the bar is looking at you?”

“Maybe,” you whisper, not even caring to follow his finger to see the girl that is, in fact, looking at you. “Sorry, I need to go to the bathroom before hitting on people I don’t know,” you joke, smiling at him and letting a laugh follow.

Mark copies you before his hand touches your arm and pats it gently. “It will be fine.”

You nod before pulling your lips into another forced smile. You hope so.

You don’t walk toward the bar, your want to even find someone that can take you home is nowhere to be found, and you sit in a corner to stare at Haechan from afar. He can’t be in love with her, right? But then again, why shouldn’t he?

That torture lasts for a while, and when you think you paid the price for your sin, you grab your things and exit. Sure, you intend to go inside again, Johnny dropped you there, but not now. You need to cool off, and shut your brain. You don’t know how, your method was Haechan but now he is the reason why your mind keeps running a thousand miles per hour.

You’ll find a way, you always did.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Haechan says, leaning next to you against the wall.

A grin curls your lips, and you partly open your eyes to make sure he’s real and not made up by your mind. He is very much real, with his denim jacket that doesn’t keep him any warm and his — now black — hair falling on his face, while his eyes look at you with too much concern. “I tend to self-sabotage a lot,” you whisper, huffing out the air, “you should know it.”

“Yeah, not like this.”

“Hey, I was smoking it!” You scream when he slaps your hand, not hard to hurt you, but hard enough to make the cigarette fall to the ground.

“Since when?”

You roll your eyes, watching the cig on the floor becoming completely useless now that he’s stepping on it, and then you shrug, “I don’t smoke, some guy offered it to me, and I wanted to see if it has any kick.”

“Why?”

“Why do you care? I’m not your problem.” Your eyes are not on him, staring straight into the night that falls upon the road in front of you, but you can feel his stare burning into your skin. Also, he’s close, and you’re not used to having him this close anymore.

He snorts and you glare at him, but that doesn’t faze him. “You said you were doing fine; it doesn’t look like it.”

“I’m just tired, I want to go home, that’s it.”

“You barely talked, danced, or did anything the whole night,” he points out, rubbing his chin and raising a brow.

“Oh, so you don’t only have eyes for your girlfriend,” you spit out before you can realize it.

“Girlfriend?” He tilts his head, and his lips twitch into a barely visible smirk.

“Yeah, the fake blonde.”

Haechan laughs, “Jealous, babe?”

“No. And don’t call me babe. I’m not your problem and I’m not your babe.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he says resolutely.

“Oh, well, ‘cause she’s all over your dick so it looked like.”

Another laugh rolls from his lips, this time louder and without a nervous grin hidden behind. “You are jealous.”

“I’m not,” you retort, frowning.

“You were the one all over my dick, and you decided to stop that.”

“I wasn’t like that. I was on your dick, having the best orgasms of my life, but I never humiliated myself in front of you doing silly voices, calling you Haechannieee, or touching you as if you were about to be kidnapped by the aliens and I wouldn’t have had the chance to see you ever again, or looked at you with those eyes that could — well, you get the picture.”

“Oh, I do. You are so fucking jealous and it’s kinda turning me on, I have to admit,” he teases you with a smug smirk on his face.

“Shut up, asshole,” you smack his arm. “Go back to her.”

“Nah, the aliens are kidnapping me, I guess she’ll have to spend the rest of the night alone.”

You glare at him, eyes dropping on your intertwined arms in disbelief when he links them and starts walking away from there.

“Come on, I’m hungry,” he urges, pushing you with more force.

“What are you doing?” You ask, gesturing nervously with your hands and looking back at the club that was disappearing behind you.

“Taking you to our favourite hamburger place, I could eat you right now for how starved I am.”

“I wouldn’t complain,” you wink shamelessly.

“Not like that,” he says. “I’m not sure you deserve it after the way you behaved.”

You huff but follow him, keeping up with his fast steps, until you reach his car and jump inside. It’s been a while since you’ve been there, and when you stop and think about what happened in the backseats your body heats up, but you try not to think about that, and instead turn on the heater and the music how you like. Haechan only laughs lowly, and you know he doesn’t mind, after all these months he knows you can pass as bossy sometimes, and like things in a certain way, so he lets you.

“I told you I’m sorry and you said it was fine,” you retort, not letting his remark of before go unnoticed.

“You just don’t read me, do you? Like, fuck, you are hard to read but I’m an open book and you truly think that shit didn’t hurt?”

“I think it hurt you that’s why I felt like shit, and that’s why with each passing day I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you. I get scared when things go well, and it’s not right, it’s not healthy, and I know I hurt you, but I’m sorry, I truly am. You can ask Johnny, he knows it.”

“Yeah, I know he knows.”

“You know he knows?” You scream. It is always Johnny’s fault.

“I know he knows,” he replies with too much calm for your liking. “He had to spill something when I thought you hated me, and I couldn’t sleep thinking about what I could’ve done wrong. He told me you didn’t hate me, that you are dumb and don’t know how to deal with anything in your life that doesn’t follow exactly the path you traced, and I thought ‘oh yeah, seems fitting of her, not surprised’ and moved on… well, tried to.”

“Oh,” you gasp.

“Oh?” He snorts, shaking his head. “All you can say?”

“Do you want me to spend the whole ride saying I’m an asshole?”

Haechan laughs, “It would be entertaining but I will save you from humiliation.”

“Thanks,” you utter, looking out of the window and grinning. This is wild, all over the place, and smells like the calm before the storm, but you like it because you’re back with him by your side.

When you arrive at what used to be your place, you sit at your table while he orders your usual. For him, a double cheeseburger and for you, the big fries’ portion with a sauce that only that place makes — that you would’ve shared with him but only if he begged well enough.

“I missed this,” he whispers after a few minutes when you’re both halfway through your order.

“The burger? Yeah, I missed this sauce, God, I will find someone that sells this.”

“I missed this, dumbass,” he says, and you feel your heart in your throat when your eyes meet, and he has that glint that you love so much. It’s like a light shining through, and some softness that only shows up in certain moments, you still don’t know what causes it, but you love it.

“Oh, I… I missed this too,” you mumble, diverting the gaze and cleaning your mouth with the napkin to keep yourself busy.

“Wow, wow, wow, wait, you? Getting a tiny, little, small, fainty, invisible bit sentimental?”

“Stupid! You make me look like a heartless bitch.”

Haechan raises his brows and cocks his head to the side.

“Don’t look at me with that face. You know I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I broke my rules for you!” You confess in the heat of the moment, raising your voice, the last words coming out in a squeak.

Oh, shit.

Haechan is confused and you don’t know how to save yourself.

“Rules?” He asks with a frown as he stops midway with his hamburger in hand.

“It’s nothing,” you shrug, grabbing the cola and bringing it to your lips.

He swallows, shaking his head to try to understand if he got it right. “You had rules?”

“I didn’t.” You try to focus on the fries now, but even the window looks tempting, it’s near and you could easily escape from there and ghost him agai—

“So, maybe you are not a cold, heartless, emotionless, impenetrable, untouchable, person after all?”

You sigh, rubbing your neck, and giving up the escape plan. Like the old times, you can give him what he wants without actually giving him what he wants, right? Just a small peek into yourself and then he’s out. “I let you sleep in my bed, only three people had the honour, Johnny, unfortunately my ex, and you.”

Haechan’s lips curl up and his nose twitches. “You are the sweetest person for breaking your rule.”

“That’s not a rule,” you lie but this time he falls for it.

“Then what were the rules?”

“Just eat, and then let’s go home. You’re so curious for no reason.”

“Yeah, you shared too much tonight, would never want to stress you,” he jokes before stealing one of your fries and send you a flying kiss.

“Thanks for the food,” you say when you both reach the door of your apartment. He usually wouldn’t come out of the car to walk you to the door of the complex, and even less he would reach the apartment door. But you didn’t stop him when he followed you in the elevator, you didn’t even flinch, almost as if that was how it was supposed to be.

“Nothing,” he smiles. “It was fun, talking and you know, just us, like the old times.”

You chuckle tenderly, nodding while trying to find the courage to ask one more thing, “Want to come in?”

“I don’t have a toothbrush at your place,” he laughs, reminding you that in the heat of the rush, you never went back to pick up all your things at his place.

“I should have a new one in the cabinet.”

Things go back to normal after that. You’re not sure it’s healthy, considering you didn’t confess your feelings, aren’t sure he feels the same, he had to be honest with Wonyoung without making any names because you two still want this to be private, and the only confrontations you had on your detachment were those two talks. But it’s fine.

The good sex is back. Haechan is back. You are back. The tension in the air is gone and you can enjoy the nights out without Mark worrying about you looking more dead than alive. And Johnny thinks you finally let loose.

But you didn’t. Some fears still linger inside of you and sometimes are stronger than others times.

“Fuck,” you mumble, “do you really have to push me against the metal bar?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Haechan laughs, pulling away from the kiss.

“Don’t laugh! This furniture is a menace to society, you need to find something else to put in your entrance,” you say, rubbing your back.

“If you weren’t horny like a bunny and waited at least to the couch to jump on me, I wouldn’t push you against it,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and starting to walk into the leaving room.

“I can’t stand you,” you whisper through the kiss, struggling to get him out of his clothes, but after a while, almost everything is scattered on the floor of his living room and you two are rushing to his bedroom.

“Is it softer for my princess?” He teases when he pushes you down on the mattress and hovers over you.

You roll your eyes but still hum. “I have the back of an 80-year-old, you need to respect that.”

“Doesn’t look like it when I fuck you all night,” he laughs.

“Should we test it?” You’re done playing around. After a dinner out, and an hour driving around town, because you wanted to see the city lights, you needed him. The flirts were unbearable and also it had been the longest week of your life.

And Haechan doesn’t make you repeat it twice, his hands reach your panties and slip between your legs, meeting the wetness that’s collected there. He doesn’t even bother to pull your underwear down, he pushes two fingers into your welcoming warm entrance and starts pumping in and out right away.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, staring in awe between your legs, “you take me so fucking well. Missed my fingers? That’s why you sent those photos the other day, ‘cause yours aren’t enough anymore and you were hoping I would’ve rushed here to fuck you.”

You curse, “Don’t act as if you didn’t start it.”

He scoffs, “It was just a hand pic, needed to know your opinion about the new watch and rings.”

“And the thighs picture?” You try to sound menacing, but his fingers are making your voice tremble, and picturing those images in your mind doesn’t help you either.

“Liked the new grey shorts? They’re pretty, right?”

“Fuck off, Haechan,” you gasp, and he laughs deeply.

“It’s so easy to mess with you,” he coos, leaning in to leave a peck on your lips. “Was the jacking off video enough to make it up for the teasing?”

“No,” you cry out. He couldn’t play with you like that, sending you a video of him fucking his fist while he moaned and whimpered. You had spent the past six days replaying it, waiting for this moment to come, and even if he was so hot even through the camera, you needed to feel him inside, outside, everywhere.

“Is this enough?”

“Yes,” you moan, opening your eyes to meet his. “Just — fuck — go faster, please.”

His lips curl upward while his two fingers start moving at a faster speed, you almost come on the spot when he presses a hand on top of your stomach and moves his thumb in circles on your clit. Your whimpered ‘too much’ gets shut down when his lips fall on yours and start kissing you. You feel lightweight, entire body reacting to his touches and kisses, playing you like a violin. His mouth is delicate and addictive and you find yourself thinking nobody ever kissed you like that. You can’t put a name on whatever ‘that’ is, but you love it.

“Why are you kissing me like that?”

“Like what?” He whispers, huffing air against your wet lips and staring straight into your eyes.

Like you mean it.

“Nothing, just —” your lips meet his again while your fingers tangle in his hair and his free hand runs on your smaller back, pushing you flat against him. “Fuck.” You feel his digits deeper and your brain starts spinning faster while your boobs rise fast trapped in the lingerie that is still on your body.

“Hyuck,” you cry out, reaching his wrist to slow his movement since you feel too sensitive.

“I’m not stopping, babe. You’ve been thinking about this for days.”

“I — I know but —”

He shushes you again with kisses while he moves your hips so he can hit exactly where he wants, making you scream out when his fingertips start slamming quickly against your sweet spot. You are breathless and you feel your stomach tighten while your legs spread to give him space to give you everything.

“Come for me, come on,” he encourages, pressing delicate kisses on your rising chest and whispering praises.

Your scream pierces the bedroom of his apartment when one twist of his wrist makes your high explode. Your nails dig deep into his arm in response as the sensations feel overwhelming when he doesn’t stop right away, making sure he’s getting every last drop out of you.

“Hyu-hyuck, enough — enough, please,” you snarl, hips bucking up in erratic motions that make him smirk proudly.

“I have a surprise for you,” he says before licking his fingers clean after he pulled out of you reluctantly. He loved making you come with his fingers only, watching them move past your pussy, while your cum coated them and dripped down his wrist and your ass, he loved how he could be all over you.

You don’t reply but you feel it’s something to be afraid of since he’s looking at you with a devilish grin on his face.

“Wanna see it?” He smirks, jumping off the bed and shoving his boxers down, finally giving you a sight of his hard throbbing dick.

You hum lowly in reply, forcing your eyes up from between his thighs and following him with your gaze as he walks to the closet and roams through something before he comes back to you with one hand behind his back.

“You’re scaring me,” you breathe out.

“I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Your mouth opens in surprise when he pulls out a small wand vibrator. It’s not the first time you use a toy, though you never had a vibrator of that kind, you’re just worried about what he wants to do with that.

“You won’t edge me, right?”

“Why not?” He asks, starting to jerk his hard cock, collecting pre-cum and making it fall on your lower stomach. “You look so pretty when no coherent words come out of your mouth and your eyes are empty… well, filled with lust and me, but empty of anything else.”

You groan, about to lift your torso but he pushes you back right away. “Don’t move,” he orders sternly, caressing your inner thigh as he slowly drags your panties down, leaving you bare, and then pulls you closer. His cock brushes over your pussy, but that’s not where you need him.

Haechan laughs, seeing the desperation in your eyes, finding it funny you’re truly thinking he won’t fuck you. “Honey, I need this pussy just as much as you need my cock, I won’t disappoint you,” he groans and then drives his hips back to align himself to your gaping entrance.

“Why do you always make me wait,” you cry out.

“Because it wouldn’t be funny otherwise,” he clicks his tongue, wrapping a hand on the base of his dick and then smearing your wetness everywhere on your pussy, but he doesn’t slip in. “Should we try this new toy before?”

You huff loudly, rolling your head back and the laugh that resonates through his ribcage makes you want to slap him but you’re left breathless once again when the vibrator starts buzzing right against your clit.

“Shit,” you curse, fingers gripping the sheets tightly and toes curling. “Haechan.”

“Yeah, that’s my name,” he taunts, playing with the different speeds and you know that’s not the first time he had the toy in hand, he doesn’t need to try it, he just wants to drive you insane, keeping you on the edge as the rhythm keeps changing and the fat tip of his cock is still pressing halfway into your cunt.

“Please,” you beg, opening your closed eyes and struggling to even breathe out that single word as he keeps messing with you.

“Please, what?” He leans down, he’s so close your noses almost touch and his breath hits your lips. “Use your words, babe.”

You inhale deeply, breathe breaking in the middle when he goes back to the higher frequency and you come on the spot, stilling as the rushes of pleasure invade your body and put a proud smirk on his face.

“Was that what you wanted?” He questions, kindly lowering the vibrations and pushing just a bit more of his tip into you.

“No,” you cry out, “want you.”

He quirks a brow, caressing your cheeks gently and kissing your lips. “Will you ask nicely?” He says, but when you only part your lips to let out sinful sounds and barely shake your head, he snaps. “I’m sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear,” he fakes a sweet tone before he growls and slaps your clit, “ask nicely.”

You gasp, feeling sparks rush through you when the spank hits. “Please, Haechan, please fuck me. I — I need you to fuck me. I’ve been — shit — thinking about you all week, wanted to — to feel your body and — nggh — your touch, please.” You feel on the verge of tears as the vibrator keeps going on your clit and the man between your legs is barely inside you.

But maybe that’s enough for him, maybe you did great and he will give you what you want.

“How much do you need me?”

Or maybe not.

“So much, so, so, so much. I dreamed of you, day and night, mhh,” you swallow a moan, fighting against another orgasm. “Fuck me ‘til I forget my name, please?”

Haechan moans, bottoming into you in a second, finally giving you what you deserve.

“Oh, God,” you gasp out when he fills you up, feeling overflowing with emotions. “Please, fuck me,” you don’t waste time begging again. You need him to move, to send you into the spiral of emptiness and fullness only he can push you into.

“I leave you starving for a week or less and you go completely crazy,” he mocks, picking up the rhythm he knows you love while he keeps the toy in place. “My greedy baby, aren’t you?”

You’re deep down that spiral because that sweet, condescending tone and the possessive pronoun don’t make you mad but instead, they make your heart jump to your throat and your heat clench around him.

He smirks when you don’t reply and angles your hips better so he can reach where he has you trembling.

“You’re making a mess, fuck,” he groans, drifting his gaze from your face to look between your legs. “You love this toy. Picked a nice gift, haven’t I?”

The teasing, bragging tone of his voice would make you talk back to him but you can’t say much. The intermitted buzzing of the toy and the never-ending pounding of his dick are driving you wild. Your head is rolled back and you don’t even care to shut down your moans, fuck the neighbours, after you two heard them fuck for three hours straight last week this was fair payback.

“Hyuck,” you cry louder when he changes the rhythm again and this time the vibration builds up slowly before crashing down, kinda like waves. “You’ll — fuck — too good.”

“I’ll what, babe?” He grins. “Make you come again? Drive you insane?”

You nod, jaw slack because you feel like you can’t breathe in enough air. And when the nth orgasm breaks through, tears erupt down your face. Haechan’s gentle enough to pull the toy away, probably not cause it’s a genuine move of heart but only because he’s too lost in your blissed face.

“Fuck,” he curses, shakily moving his fingers to caress your wet cheeks. The last time he saw you cry wasn’t a great view, and it was because of an asshole, but this time he is the reason for those tears, and they look so beautiful on your pretty, overwhelmed face. He thinks he loves when you get so vulnerable with him, he doesn’t even care that you only get like this during sex, he still has that power over you, and knowing you, this is already the biggest sign of trust you can gift him. “You’re so pretty, you know?”

A dumb smile paints on your face as your hands reach for him to pull him closer. You feel like your brain is melting and your bones are ashes but you want to feel that skin-on-skin contact more. You want him all over you, deeper into you, seeping into the smallest creases of you so that you can’t wash him away for days.

Haechan moans your name in a heated kiss when you clench around him. “Taking me so fucking well, that’s my good girl,” he praises, pushing back again on your lips. “My good girl.”

“Yours,” you whimper through moans and sobs.

“Yeah, mine,” he whispers back, changing the angle of his thrust so he can hit your sweet spot better and exactly how you like. But right now is just too much for you, between your clit being endlessly stimulated, his cock hitting deep into you and his lips and hands on your body, you’re sure you can’t drag this longer.

“Don’t you fucking dare pull away, hands off,” he scolds, swatting your hand away when you try to get between him and the vibrator.

“It’s too much,” you whimper, “I can’t anymore.”

“Yes, you can, babe. Just one more,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you softly to calm you down. “Can you take one more for me?” He still checks, slowing his movements and slowing down the speed of the wand.

You hum, breathing out a choked positive answer and he smiles happily, picking up his ministrations inside of you and on your lips. “Good girl,” he praises, “taking it all, taking me so well. I —” he stops, panic flicking behind his eyes but yours are closed and you’re too lost to feel the same rush of fear into you. “I’m so proud of you.”

Your heart jumps in your chest, and you feel like you could melt. Praises have never done anything to you until they started coming out of his mouth. They didn’t feel like a mock anymore, or like a nicety said just to be cliché and repeat some erotica-porn-type catchphrase. You know he means it.

Your eyes snap open when he starts fucking you faster, turning the vibration at that high setting and never changing it until you would’ve been done. Curse spill from your lips, but Haechan catches them all inside his mouth. He doesn’t do it to keep you silent, Mark’s not home anyway, he does it for another reason. Almost as if he’s addicted to your lips, or you.

“Hyuck,” you breathe out.

“I know, baby. I know,” he coos before sticking his face in the crook of your neck to smear wet pecks on your skin. “Come with me, okay?”

You hum, shaking your head in quick motions and trapping your lower lip in your teeth because you know your moans would be screams by now, and before the neighbours might mislead this beautiful sex for a crime scene, you try to keep it under control. Haechan is not as careful as you, his velvety, deep moans slip freely and you can’t blame him, your pussy must be gripping him tighter than ever before and be just as wet, the lewd wet sounds are a clear indication of how turned on you are.

And something between all that makes you both reach your climax, panting and squirming against each other before you go slack on the mattress and he collapses on top of you, thoughtful enough to turn off the toy and threw it at the side of the bed.

You feel lost in a haze when you turn around and snuggle closer to him, breathing in his scent and running your fingers on his chest. You look up and see him smiling lazily at you, and you reciprocate.

“You amaze me sometimes,” he whispers mindlessly, letting his hand run on your back, reaching your hair to brush some strands, following their natural pattern.

You chuckle, “For taking your cock so well?”

He snorts, rolling his eyes and leaning closer to you; the temptation to kiss you is strong, and weirdly enough you still haven’t moved back, but he knows he can’t risk it. “For taking everything I give you so well.”

“Fair.”

You stay there for a while more, waiting for your bodies to recharge a bit but the more he holds you in his arms the more you feel sleep take over you. But you both know you can’t sleep in those conditions, so Haechan breaks the magic.

“Should we order something to eat and in the meanwhile take a bath?”

You stretch, and hum. “If you carry me to the bathroom.”

Once he has ordered food and you’re both sitting in the bathtub, you let the warmth of the water wrap around you. It feels nice after the exhausting sex, and you love the scent of Haechan’s body wash, you love feeling his arms around you and his hands on you.

There’s nothing sexual about this, he’s delicately cleaning you with the sponge while you talk about stupid things and make jokes.

It’s warm. And safe. And special.

It’s different.

From anything else that ever happened before with anybody else, and even with him. And you think you might get used to this.

To a home, not a house.

To a place to come back to that’s full of life and love.

To him, and his laugh, and his voice, and his clothes scattered around, and his screams when he loses against his friends.

You truly believe you could get used to this.

But all the fears you have to face still appear like an insurmountable wall that menaces crashing on you.

Haechan has no intention of letting it slide this time. When he can’t reach you through call, when you still don’t answer his texts after five days, he knows he won’t write pathetic, heartbroken messages to you to let you go again.

He’s mad, furious, even, and once again, he can’t understand you.

You were back together, better than before, closer than before, and now, you’re gone without a word another time.

He doesn’t bother to text you to warn you, he’s pretty sure if you knew he was coming, you would’ve escaped to the other side of the world, leaving no traces behind. So he’s standing at your door, ringing the bell with no patience, and huffing loudly.

When the door opens and you murmur a curse after blabbering Johnny’s name because you were expecting to find him, your eyes widen.

“Haechan?” You whisper, throat dry and hand shaking on the knob.

He doesn’t say anything, he pushes you to the side and enters the place.

“Haechan, I can —” you start, but his glare stops you.

“Why do you always ruin everything good?” His voice is shaking and so are his lips, quivering even now that he’s not talking anymore.

And you’re frozen. You’re not ready for this. You didn’t prepare a speech before, you don’t have an explanation about your personality and you two. You spent the last five days working and worrying because things went wrong once again because you let him too close and now he is there, waiting for an answer you were never able to give yourself.

“I said,” he starts, “why do you ruin everything good?”

“I don’t…”

Haechan groans loudly, throwing his head back and turning around because he can’t stand your face, your tears rolling down your cheeks as if you’re the victim in this, and probably partially you are, but why can’t you let him in? Why can’t you explain it to him? Whatever is bothering you and making you stab him repeatedly. He just wants to know why before he lets you go, but it seems you don’t even know how to do that.

“You ran away from us another time and you can’t give me an explanation?”

“I’m scared, okay? What’s between us is… is not going where I planned it to go and it’s becoming so much. I just don’t know what to do,” you try to explain, trying to keep your composure and don’t shake like a leaf.

Haechan scoffs in disbelief, but the truth is that he’s feeling an abnormal amount of pain just looking into your eyes. “What’s there to know? I thought we were fine. I… I came back to you as if nothing happened, as if you didn’t leave me without a word. I hurt an innocent person all because I wanted to be with you, in any way, I don’t care. I didn’t even want apologies or anything, I just wanted you and I thought we were doing fine but to you, fine is never enough.”

“It was enough, it is. I — I think it’s too much. I don’t know how to deal with this. With you,” you reason, and it’s hard to look into his eyes when you can see all the pain you’re causing.

“I thought…” he stops, backtracking on his own words because none of this makes sense. You never show signs of discomfort when you’re together, you used to bicker much more at the start than now, so your words sound crazy to his ears. “Why can’t you tell me this when I do things that are too much for you?”

“Because they aren’t too much when they happen. I like what we have.”

“Then why do you run away?” He can’t keep his voice low, and those words come out in a scream full of bitter incredulity.

You break into a cry, but you immediately stop yourself, forcing the tears back in your eyes and the sobs down your throat. Once again you can’t give him an answer, just a useless apology. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, keeping eye contact no matter how much it hurts because you need him to know you’re being honest, you’re not lying or putting up walls. It’s just hard to tear down the ones you already have built around yourself.

“No, you’re not,” he retorts, voice lower. “It happened twice, Jesus Christ, twice. You can go back to your ex, the one who treated you like shit, but you can’t at least warn me when you need some time alone.”

You shake your head, pressing your lips flat to hold in the cries. “I don’t need some time alone. I’m confused and overwhelmed.”

“By what?” Haechan urges again, nervously moving in small steps on the spot, feeling like he could explode at any minute.

“Everything. All of this is new to me and I… I’m trying to be a better person. I’m trying not to hurt the ones that I love, and don’t fuck everything up, but I can’t. Everything I touch becomes sick and dies and… and I don’t know what to do.”

Haechan is confused. He thought that what you had had never been better than this, so why is it so different for you? Why are your points of view so far from one another and distorted? Maybe that is the problem, after all, you are too different from each other, not compatible, and it will never work. “But I don’t get you, I’ve tried, I swear, I did, but it’s like — it’s like there’s a wall and I can’t get past it.”

You groan, throwing your head back, but you know that if it’s difficult for you to explain it must be ten times harder for him to understand. “It’s hard for me.”

“But why? I thought I was better than your ex, why are you pushing me away?” He knows he’s not perfect, but he’s never done anything to hurt you, moreover, he always tried everything to protect you and make you feel good, and that went beyond sex. He thought it was clear, but apparently, it was all to waste.

You’re short of words, struggling to come up with an answer. “Because, because, fuck, I’ve never felt like this before. You fucked me up in a way no one else ever did. It’s pathetic the way you make me weak. The way… the way my walls come crashing down when I’m with you.”

“Oh, really?” It’s a scoff, full of sarcasm, mockery and resentment and it’s even followed by a click of the tongue.

Your voice falters as tears break free from your eyes. Of course, he doesn’t believe you. Of course, he can’t know how much you showed of yourself, parts of you nobody else has ever seen. “They do. You simply don’t pry in, you don’t push me to my limits to make me let you in but the door for you is wide open. I feel… I’m vulnerable.” You stop, taking a deep breath. “When I’m with you, I’m vulnerable.”

Haechan shakes his head, thinking you can’t be serious. The only time you have been vulnerable was because of your ex, and the other times you opened up, well, he’s not so sure you told him anything true. “And yet I still don’t get you, and I’m starting to think I’ll never will because… you act like a child running away when nothing happens. What do you do when things go wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you cry, sliding down on the floor, covering your face with your closed fist. You don’t let things in your life go wrong, because they already went wrong years ago and you can’t even risk for a tragedy to happen again. That’s why you need rules, order, and peace. “I’ve never had something like, something like… this,” you confess, looking at him. “I’ve never had someone like you.” Haechan. The opposite of what you needed until now to survive. There were no rules with him, no order and no peace, but strangely enough, all his opposites didn’t bring you war. Yet, that doesn’t calm you, something about all of this feels like a bomb to you and he still doesn’t understand you.

The heavy sigh that comes from his lips makes you look away. “So, you run when things are good? Will you keep leaving me? Do I have to come running to you, looking for you, not knowing if you want me or if I should leave you space?”

“I don’t know.”

Haechan almost yells. “Stop saying that, it’s infuriating.”

“But I truly have no idea. I just told you. I could tell you about me, but why would you want to listen?”

“Because I love you?” He screams, jaw dropping as he realizes what he said. “Fuck, there, I said it, and I scared you away once and for all, but honestly, I can’t keep doing this any longer. I love you. I don’t know why but I guess I am dumb and always fall for the people I can’t have. But I do. And I would love to sit here and listen to you because, guess what, I want this to work out. Because that’s what normal people do. They talk and they listen. They don’t run away.”

“You — you love me?”

Haechan takes a deep breath, and a tear rolls down his eyes as he hums, nodding. “And you don’t have to say anything, I don’t care if you don’t love me back, but that’s why I hate when you act like this because you don’t let good things come at you in life, I might not be your happy event but…”

“But?”

“Grow up.”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat and more tears flood your face, blurring your view. Those words feel like a gunshot straight to your heart and you can’t believe you’re hearing them from him. You know that wasn’t his initial thought, but he doesn’t backtrack.

“Grow up because you need to learn how to deal with this shit, whatever it is, whatever is making you act like this. Excuses and apologies are not enough. You might not hurt people on purpose, but you still do and I…”

“No, please,” you scream when Haechan starts walking to the door swiftly, opening it before you can even make him out. “Don’t leave,” you cry, struggling to stand on your knees. “Don’t leave me, too.”

He stops and turns around gulping but shaking his head.

“I need to be alone,” his voice is broken and he’s clearly holding back tears, and you’d like to run in his arms and hug him, but, once again, the rational part of you is holding you back, so you let him go, like you let go every other person of your life, with the difference you didn’t care about them as you care about him.

“I can’t keep defending you,” Johnny confesses while he stares at your crying face. You called him sobbing, muttering a few words, but he didn’t need more to come rushing to you. He didn’t even need you to explain, he knew. Haechan had this over-dramatic way of reacting, posting sad Instagram stories with depressing and heart-wrenching songs, and everything led back to you. Also, he had told him he ‘broke’ everything with Wonyoung and Johnny saw how you two were close once again. So, you must’ve fucked it up once again and that was why you two were here.

“You don’t have to,” you weep, hiding your face in his chest, and wrapping your arms around his broad back, deeply hoping he would crash you with his arms and you would stop suffering for all your poor decisions.

“You can’t keep sabotaging yourself,” he says, caressing your scalp in circular motions, knowing that always makes you calm down. “I can’t keep seeing you like this.”

“I was never like this.”

Johnny sighs, “You might not cry but if you think that I don’t know your fucked up coping mechanism, you’re wrong. And we know well it’s not only about love. Everything good that happens in your life you have to turn into a curse. Why?”

“I don’t know.” You know it well, and weirdly it isn’t even in your power.

“You had an offer of a job you loved and you lost it all because you thought you were undeserving and played humble, and let’s not talk about the days before the interview you spent feeling sick because you thought you weren’t good enough for it.”

A broken sniffle rolls from your lips.

“Do we have to go back to the school years?”

“No, thanks.” You don’t need a reminder, the years of tears and stress that you doubled for the standards you set for yourself are still weighing on you, so you don’t want to go back there mentally.

“And love… why do you think you don’t deserve love?”

“I don’t think I don’t deserve it. I never felt something so strong and I’m afraid. What if… what if we’re both not ready to settle down and be serious with this? What if it will break my heart?”

Johnny chuckles, “And what if he’s the love of your life?”

“Oh,” you whisper, your heart speeding up just thinking about it. The long-term scared you, that was why you ran away. You love how you feel good when you’re with him, but you’re terrified it won’t last and once the spell expires you will be left in the ashes.

“The only certain things in life are taxes, if you’re not a rich asshole, and death, but everything else? It’s a shot in the dark. Don’t you think some risks are worth taking?”

“But it will hurt.”

“And isn’t it hurting already?”

“Oh.”

Johnny smiles, caressing your cheek. “Why are you so worried about the future? You can’t make it perfect. You can’t have control over everything, little bird.”

“Don’t call me little bird,” you say, emitting a sound mixed with a sniffle and a chuckle.

“You are. And you still didn’t learn how to fly. But if you don’t fly, how will you live?”

You sigh, rubbing your hands on your face before biting your nails nervously.

“Listen,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and gently whispering your name to make you look at him. “I know why you want to have control so badly. I know why you think that if you plan it all before, think about all the things that could go wrong, and torture yourself into thinking that you can have power over the wilderness of the world and destiny, nothing else will go wrong, but it’s not like this. We both know it.”

You sob louder, knowing exactly what he’s talking about, eyes dropping to the floor as guilt plunges your heart again. “I could’ve saved him.”

“No, you couldn’t have. Some things are just not in our power. I blamed myself too, so many times. But I swore to him I would’ve protected you over anything, and if that anything is yourself and your fears, I will protect you from you.”

You wish you could feel better at his words, but they only make more tears stream down your face. “If I didn’t call him, if I… if I had someone to come home with this wou—”

“It would’ve happened,” Johnny stops you. “You’re not that powerful, little bird. I’m sorry,” he chuckles, wiping your tears away. “None of us is. And it’s all about luck, and just occasionally about merits. So, if life sent Haechan to you, don’t make him slip away.”

“But every time I followed my instinct things went terribly, I feel like I carry so much bad luck around me sometimes.”

Johnny only hugs you for a while, caressing your back and lulling you in his arms. “When you were a kid and let the sea carry you too far away?”

“My father almost died.”

“But he didn’t.”

“Yes, but then… you know what happened.”

“And it wasn’t your fault. After that you never let emotions carry you, you never let someone deep into you because you think everyone could betray you, and unless you have everything written down you don’t do a thing. You hide it quite well, you almost seem normal from the outside.”

You laugh lightly and hug him tighter. You don’t feel better, but maybe he’s right, maybe this is your chance to change your life and stop living in fear.

“So, what do I do?”

“You let Haechan in, maybe explain something to him so he puts his mind at ease because I think that both Adele and Taylor Swift’s discographies are about to end, he seemed rather depressed in his stories.”

“And if it goes wrong?”

“At least you tried.”

A heavy sigh rolls from your lips as you stare blankly at the floor, nervously biting the inside of your cheeks and, once again, trying to think faster than life, maybe if you change your plans, it would count as if you still made them, right? Or maybe this time there is no plan, and it’s right like this.

“I only promised him one thing, and I’m not going to take my words back, little bird. He wanted you to live, to be free, and to be loved. On the way to you, he called me, ranting furiously about how he would’ve killed your stupid boyfriend if he saw him somewhere because nobody could hurt you. He only wanted someone that was right for you. I’m sure he would love Haechan, and who knows, maybe Hyuck is truly sent from above.”

When your closed fist crashes against Haechan’s front door to knock on it you feel like you could pass out. You keep torturing the inside of your cheeks, chewing the flesh nervously, while your right foot nervously bounces against the cold floor.

You slightly jump back when the door opens and your eyes meet with his.

“Who’s — Oh, it’s you,” he whispers and he almost sounds disappointed, you wouldn’t bet on it, but his eyes are not looking at you like they usually would and that makes you regret even more that you came.

“Can we talk?” Your voice is weak and hardly comes out, vocal cords shaking like your body. “No, we need to talk. Please,” you add to don’t sound too rude, it’s the last thing you can be, given the position you’re in.

Haechan sighs, rubbing his face and then moving to the side to let you in. The house is dark, the only light comes from outside, and dead quiet.

“Why are you here?” He questions, crossing his arms and watching as you’re about to sit on the sofa. You stop halfway and gulp, standing up again and clinging to your purse. “You can sit.”

You do, fixing your clothes and looking down at the floor.

“So? I don’t have all day,” he urges and the coldness of his voice is the tenth bad sign that’s screaming you shouldn’t do this.

“About us.”

Haechan chuckles, it’s a bitter laugh, trapped in the back of his throat while his eyes roll to the sky and his head shakes. “Us? Now you decided there’s an us?”

You bite your lower lip and clench your fists. “Please, just let me explain.”

“Sure, can’t wait to hear some other bullshit you’ll have to tell me before disappearing forever,” he says, sitting in front of you, and the distance feels unbearable. You had never seen him this cold, not even when you went back to the coastal town this winter.

“Listen, I’m here to talk like adults, okay? Can we please stop being childish and put the pride away for just an hour? Then I’ll leave if you want to.”

He hums, he’d love to add that he doesn’t want you to leave, but he keeps his mouth shut and waits for you to talk.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “For everything I did to you. Trying not to hurt myself I only hurt you and I didn’t want to.”

He babbles something under his breath, shaking his head, he can’t even be mad at you for long and he hates it.

“And I don’t want you to forgive me, but I think I owe you my honesty, and a bit more of me, you know…”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, I do, because you let me… you let me in. You talked about your family, about your struggles, how you moved here on your own and I said a few things and I even lied.”

Haechan’s face cannot be read, probably a fragment of stupor crosses it or maybe disappointment, but then he scoffs. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I didn’t — I didn’t think we would ever get here,” you confess. “You were supposed to be just sex, Haechan. To be honest, I didn’t even want you to be that. Johnny dragged me to that bar and here we are.”

He gulps, moving his eyes up and down your figure, and then takes a deep breath. “We don’t have to be anything, I just wish you wouldn’t cut me off like this all the time because it hurts. I care about you and the idea of hurting you, even involuntarily, kills me. It’s pathetic, I know, but…” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “but it’s the truth.”

Your heart jumps and you can’t believe his words. So is this how it feels when the person you love the most is about to give you up? “But I do.”

“What?”

“I — I…” you choke up on your words, fighting the tears back. “I want to — I don’t know why it is so hard.” No, you know why, because the last time the words ‘I love you’ slipped from your lips you were bent on a deathbed, beginning your other half to stay alive, to don’t leave you in the madness of the world at fifteen, promising him from then on you were going to listen, to stay in track and never break a rule, but it was all in vain. And now confessing that something as strong as love ties you to someone that wasn’t in your life since forever makes you shit yourself.

“You don’t have to fake it if you don’t feel anything. I know I crossed a line, I know what our rules were and I’m aware I broke them so no, I won’t blame you if I lose you,” Haechan says, stopping probably to gather the courage to add the last words, “I know I already did.”

“No, you didn’t,” you say. “Let me talk, please?”

Haechan’s not sure, taking time to consider his options, but then nods, humming lowly. This might be the last time he has you like this, if he didn’t listen to you now, he would’ve regretted it forever, staying up at night thinking about what you had to say.

“Remember when I told you about Johnny and my brother?” Haechan nods, even if he doesn’t get its correlation with you two. “I lied. They never fought; my brother died,” your voice falters as it comes out to give him such a big piece of you. You take a deep breath and then exhale, “It was all my fault.”

“What?” He blurts out, eyes wide and mouth open. “I mean, I’m sorry, God, it wasn’t supposed to come out like that but… I…”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s alright, I would’ve reacted the same way if you pretended your brother was alive and well.”

“It didn’t happen recently, right?” He’s afraid all this time you left, it was because of that, maybe you were going through a loss and he wasn’t by your side.

You shake your head, playing with your fingers. “I was fifteen, and he was only twenty.”

He mentally takes a breath of relief knowing it was in the past, but he doesn’t feel any better, it’s clear it’s still hard for you to talk about it even if seven years went by. “But… unless you didn’t kill him, how can it be your fault?”

“If only I didn’t call him, if only I listened to my parents and never… never dated him or went on that trip, my brother would be here today.”

Haechan tries to talk but you stop him. “But that’s not why I talked to you about this, I mean, I still have to talk to you about this. I hope it can make you understand why… why I’m like this.”

The man in front of you swallows, and you can read it in his eyes he’s not so sure anymore he wants to dive deep into you, but it’s the only way he can at least try to forgive you.

“I know it sounds crazy but, when I was a child, I was reckless and only trusted my instincts. I loved living to the fullest, you know? I always tried new things and nothing really scared me. I was like this even with people, I always saw their good, but sometimes the good never even existed.”

Haechan doesn’t talk, he only looks at you, listening attentively. And that makes you relax a bit, that was one of his thousand virtues, he always listened and emitted this sense of calm.

“I was like this even as a teenager when I didn’t know men are shit since the day they are born.”

“Fair,” he agrees.

“I’m sorry, like, some of you are just terrible and when I was fourteen I fell for the worst one, but I couldn’t see it. I’ve never been a loser, not in a cliché way, but he seemed so cool in my eyes. He was pretty, popular, funny, for the broken humour of fourteen years old me, and he could do so much more than I could and I was in love, not really looking back at it now, and jealous.”

“I guess he was older?”

“He was, he turned seventeen when I turned fifteen and we weren’t together until then, but I was… a child at heart. I didn’t feel ready to try a lot of new things and he always pressured me into them. My parents didn’t like him, but I was headstrong and didn’t listen. Anyway, we dated for a while and everything was fine, until one day he asked me to go camping with his friends. I was so happy, it was my first night out with people I wasn’t super close with and we were under the sky, in my mind it was going to be the most romantic night of my life until it turned into a nightmare. My parents didn’t want me to go, so I had a fight with them and my brother took my defences, saying that I had to make my first experiences and if something happened I could always call home, so they gave up. But I was still mad at them and didn’t want to call them when things went wrong, proving they were right would’ve killed my pride, so I called my brother. I knew he would’ve never said anything to me.”

“Did he… force you?”

You shake your head. “No, but they were doing drugs and mixing it with alcohol and I was afraid, I only knew him and two other girls, but never was in touch with his friends and they were all starting to get too violent, and I didn’t like the jokes, the jokes about me. They started mocking me, for being too naïve, and pure and he didn’t say a word to defend me, he even laughed with them, straight to my face. And then the alcohol made him confess he hated how we still hadn’t fuck because I wasn’t ready, and after that, I snapped. I was terrified he was going to find a way to make it happen somehow that night and I didn’t want to be there. I had nobody to defend me and I couldn’t stay there. So I grabbed my things while fighting with him and ran away, in the middle of the wood, crying and heartbroken…”

“So you called your brother?”

You nod, wiping away the tears. “He came rushing, and he wanted to address them but I just wanted to go home, technically to Johnny’s place, I didn’t want to see my parents and we had this plan we would’ve kept it a secret from them.”

“So you were already friends with Johnny?”

You nod. “We’ve always been, that’s why I tell you that I could never be attracted to him, he has always been like my second older brother, and now he’s the only one I have left.”

“You don’t have to go on…” Haechan says, seeing how much you’re shaking and how weak your voice is.

“No, I do, I need to. I trust you,” you confess, and the beam behind his eyes dims your tension. “We were driving to Johnny’s place, it was late at night and it also started raining. I know it would’ve happened even if he wasn’t mad because we were in the right, he was driving well, but if only I didn’t call him up he would’ve been at home and not in that damn crossroad.” You can’t go on and you lower your head while you try to gather your thoughts and stop your body from shaking. You feel Haechan’s hand reach yours and you hold it tight after the sofa hollows as he sits next to you.

“The last thing I remember is his hand on my thigh while he caressed my hand to calm me down, and the static, deafening sound in my ear of the crush, the pain and his hand slipping away.”

“So, you were there?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “He didn’t die on the spot, he suffered for like a week, he even woke up, barely had time to talk one last time to all of us and then his heart had a failure and they couldn’t save him.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says, contemplating hugging you but it feels out of place, so he only keeps caressing your hand. “And you?”

“Broken leg, broken arm, a minor brain trauma and something else but I’m still here, and he’s not. And why? Because I decided to follow my dumb heart.”

Haechan feels out of place but after what you heard he can’t keep quiet. “I… I think he loved you too much to blame you for something that wasn’t in your power.”

“I know, I swear. I went to therapy, and I know it’s not my fault, I accepted his death and I know he would’ve thrown himself in the flames for me, but I can’t let go of this fear in my everyday life. Not having control drives me crazy and with you, I lost it so soon, it never happened before.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Haechan confesses, he’s still holding your hand because it feels like the only thing he can do. But other than that? He can’t protect you from your fears and he doesn’t know how to give some control into your hands, it’s not in his power either.

“I love you,” you confess, looking into his eyes and he freezes, the hold on your palm loosening. “And that’s the shitties confession ever, and I’m so sorry I just finished trauma dumping you, but I… I can’t keep losing good things in life because I’m afraid of taking risks. I can’t erase you, I’ve tried, but I can’t.”

Haechan’s mouth is wide and he’s not sure if he went completely insane or if those words came out of your mouth for real.

“I can’t move on from you. And I don’t need all the big answers I was searching for to give this a reason, I love you, it’s simple as that.”

“I…” he tries to answer you, but he feels his heart racing and head spinning, you just said you love him, twice.

You stand up and start walking back and forth. “I’ve never been so honest, but I can’t stop thinking of you, dreaming of you, even. And I can’t believe I love being with you so much. God, you were supposed to be just a one-night stand and here we are, you washed over me like a rouge wave and...” you chuckle, eyes glistening as happy tears wet them “... I can’t even care if it made me drown. I love you too much to care about what will happen, to worry about something that might not even happen. But even if it will, even if life will ever tear us away, I want to live in the present, I want to kiss you in front of our friends, I want to hold hands when you pick me up from work, I want to sing with you in the car as we drive to our favorite place, I want to wake up next to you and don’t have to sneak out like a thief. I want to leave my toothbrush at your place, next to yours, right where it belongs.”

You can’t read his expression, your heart dares to say he’s happy, surely shocked and probably thrilled, but your brain is still the annoying douchebag that makes you feel he doesn’t want you back.

“And I know I’m hard to be with but if you want me, if you feel like you can take me for who I am, I promise that I won’t disappear ever again and I will let you in.”

Haechan chuckles and then raises his head to smile at you. “You are the wildest rollercoaster I’ve ever been on, you know?” You hum, smiling sadly. “But I can’t get off.” Your eyes light up at his words and your heart starts beating again as if it has been brought back to life.

“So you don’t hate me?”

He shakes his head, standing up to be face to face. “I don’t think I can.”

Your smile lights up the room, and Haechan leans closer. “So, can I kiss you or are we breaking another rule?”

You chuckle. “We are. I think this is the only one we never broke, we never kissed outside of sex.”

“Oh, so this one has to be special…” he caresses your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, rubbing your skin with his thumb and then leans in, “…to us?”

You smile, gulping before moving closer, leaving only a few millimetres between you. “To us.” When your lips meet it feels like a patch being put on your broken wings. It’s soft, and there’s still a lot of fear in your shaking hands and lips, but it feels like floating in the sky. You know it’s going to be hard for the both of you, he has his skeletons just like you have yours, but this feels right. This feels like the place where you have to be. In his arms, hanging from his lips.

Haechan hits different. Haechan is like a high-speed train and a bullet to the heart. Haechan is like jumping in the void with no parachute on hoping wings will grow from your back to keep you floating. But it’s good and it makes you feel alive, a feeling you’re now sure you had forgotten a long time ago.

And maybe, after all, you have to thank Johnny for this.

#nct fanfiction #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #haechan fluff #lee haechan fluff #haechan angst #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #haechan scenarios

6K notes · View notes

meowzfordayz · 2 years ago

Text

when you grab their chest — akaza, douma, muzan, kyojuro, giyuu, tengen

Author’s Note: pardon the ridiculously long title. 🥴😂 “Fem!Reader” applies to Tengen only.

when you grab their chest — akaza, douma, muzan, kyojuro, giyuu, tengen

Akaza x Reader, Douma x Reader, Muzan x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader, Uzui Tengen x Reader

Word Count: ~900

CW: dark humor, Fem!Reader, mild sexual content

Suggestion Fulfilled: I have a request😤 I recently read a certain ass slapping fic which I adored could you do a similar fic with the same characters +giyu and Douma with the reader coming up from behind the and squeezing their man tiddies

~faqs~

I 100% would’ve used MAN TIDDIES in my title, but figured Tumblr would hide this post from tags if I did, so I went w/ “chest” instead 😆

Also, some of these are canon compliant — Muzan, Kyojuro, Giyuu

While others are set in modern au (alternate universe; modern setting) — Akaza, Douma, Tengen

AKAZA

Immediately tenses

#noice 😌😎 after all, the man is ripped

The more Akaza tenses, the more you wanna squish

Except, it’s kinda hard to squish pure, flexed muscle ?? 😔

“Akaza, my love, could you relax?” 🥺

He’s still confused, but my love automatically has him at your beck and call, so-

He relaxes

*gleeful squeal* 😍 *squish squish* 😍

Aaand he’s tensed again

If you actually take the time to explain yourself, then he’ll be absolutely embarrassed flattered

Lowkey decides to do an extra 100 push ups daily, just bc he’s so darn in love w/ you 😭

DOUMA

Douma’s been waiting all his life for you to grab his moobs

So like

He’s one happy camper !!!!! 😌🥳

“all his life” = since he met you

As for “moobs”? I had to, just once 😃

Slowly flexes them so he can hear your amazed gasp 😍

“Are you drooling?” he smirks

“Fuck off,” you scowl

You try to withdraw your hands to wipe away your incriminating drool 😒🤤

But he doesn’t let you 🤪

He squeezes your wrists, grinning widely to himself, “Don’t leave me.” 😇

“But I’m done,” you grumble, resting your forehead between his shoulder blades (you’ve already accepted your fate 🤠)

“I’m not,” he retorts, “Not even close.” 🤗

Translation? Douma wants you to massage his pectorals

#pretty pls and ty

MUZAN

Once again, I’m presuming you’re a demon, and Muzan’s immediate reaction is to slice off your hands 💀

Thank gosh for regeneration! 😮‍💨

You’ve gotta quit surprising him 🤪

I mean

Yeah

He enjoys when you touch him ��

BUT, he has a reputation to uphold, and being startled by your random displays of physical attention doesn’t exactly help 🙃

The implication that he lets his guard down w/ you (bc how else could you ever hope to genuinely startle him?) is making me feel things 😭

“Do that again, and I won’t be so forgiving.”

The faint dip between his brows has you thinking otherwise 🤭

“What if I ask first?” 😉

You’re treading on thin ice 😬

His eyes flash, “Pardon?”

Good thing he’s close to cracking too 😌

“If I ask to touch you?”

I’ll kill you “You wouldn’t.”

WeLp

He didn’t say No 🤗

(obvi consent’s a must, but in this specific context mutual flirtation’s strongly implied and also it’s literally Muzan)

“Oh!” <— Kyojuro exclaims, cheerful as ever ☺️

“Hello there,” he chuckles, smiling at the feeling of your body pressed against his back, “Are you checking something?”

“Mhm,” you grin, “They’re still here!” 😇

“My pectorals?” his head tilts, “Of course they are?!”

He’s ~a little oblivious, okay? 😃

“How about you hug me from the front?” he suggests gently, “That way I get to hug you too!”

😭😭😭

He’s so precious

How could you refuse?????

Spoiler alert: you can’t

GIVE THE MAN HIS HUG 🥺❤️‍🔥

Spoiler alert: you give Kyojuro his hug, and it is very cozy 🥰

A tad sweaty + suffocating, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world 🥺

Shocked 😵‍💫

Giyuu’s inner monologue: ????? What? Is? This?

Giyuu’s outer dialogue: *still as stone*

“Giyuu?” you immediately remove your hands, scurrying to his front side, head tilted w/ concern, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfort-” 😕

“You didn’t,” he interrupts quietly, finally grasping his bearings, “It was…” aaand now he’s blushing, “... nice.” 🥺☺️

Your nose scrunches, relief relaxing your shoulders as you nod sheepishly, “I’m glad I didn’t freak you out too much.”

“Mhm,” he smiles reassuringly, “You freaked me out,” gently guiding your palms back to his chest, “But not too much,” winking shyly at you, “The perfect amount, in fact.”

HELP !!!!! CAN YOU JUST CAN I FWIBEIUVLNSOUEJGBWO;GNS

Suave, sexy, knows-what-he-wants, isn’t-afraid-to-tell-you, will-even-go-after-it-himself Giyuu has entered the chat

AnD I AM HERE FOR IT 😭😭😭💘

LOUD LAUGHTER

You can feel it through his tiddies 😆

“Envious, my dear?” 😉

Okay

Presumptuous much? 😒

But alllso 🙄

“If you could share…” you pout, “Gimme just a lil?” 🤗

“You’re welcome to work out with me,” he chuckles fondly, flexing for you, “These could totally be yours!”

You sigh, “Tengen, pectorals and breasts aren’t the same thing.”

“I know that,” he shrugs, patting your knuckles reassuringly, “Your breasts are perfect, and I’m happy to coach you and your pectorals if you so desire.”

You decide to test the waters 🌊

“What if my pectorals get bigger than yours?” 😏

Tengen immediately drowns you 🌊💀

“Not a chance.” 😐

And then he tacks on, a tad nicer, “But you could certainly get very big pectorals.” ☺️

“Just not bigger than yours,” you grin 😏

He nods grimly, “My ego would pop.” 😔

“And that would be tragic.” ☹️

“Indeed,” he squeezes your hands (which remain splayed across his chest), still basking in your touch, “I appreciate your understanding.” 😖🥰

(fyi, if your pectorals did get bigger than Tengen’s, then he’d: survive, be super proud of you, and beg to know your workout regimen)

#headcanons #modern au #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #akaza kny #akaza demon slayer #akaza x reader #douma kny #douma demon slayer #douma x reader #muzan kny #muzan demon slayer #muzan x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #tomioka giyuu #giyuu x reader #uzui tengen #tengen x reader

3K notes · View notes

zeropro · 2 months ago

Note

I'm in love with your art, I love how you draw the seekers

Btw do you have any fanfic recs?

Oh thank you! I enjoy drawing them!

Fic Recs? Sure I can pull some up!

The first transformers fic I ever read was Stop Me by Megadoomingir, it's a retelling of TFPrime, but like not a retelling so much as Starscream goes back in time and things happen again.

My favorites are Star Followed Star by Book of the Night Sky (In which Starscream is killed and Sunstorm is cloned to replace him) and Ghostly Touch by Baird Crevan (In which Starscream gets attacked in his apartment)

I also really like This Ship Will Carry Our Bodies Safe To Shore by Postapocolyptic Cryptic. It's short and sad and I keep going back to it.

Kinda funny fun Megastar one is Quarantine by Neveralarch, in which Starscream gets sick and Megatron is forced to take care of him.

The Darkness Within by Balrog Roike is a nice Skyfire one, where Skyfire joins the Decepticons to be with Starscream and Starscream somehow has the worse time of it lol.

Candid by Ceris Malfoy left me pretty hollow.

In Him We Trust by BooLoo2 has fun implications.

Another Deception by Mamzelle Souris sports the Young Seekers AU where a bunch of the Seekers were framed into their adult bodies too early and the Autobots decide to try and rehabilitate them. Ruins by CheerfullyMorbid is an AU of this AU haha. I like the parts with Starscream a lot.

Spoon888 has a lot of fun fics. Endorsed By Starscream is a hilarious one, and I also enjoyed Wing Switch, Aftershock, Giant Killer Slugs, and Stature. At the Cliff Edge and Anything are less comedy but also worth a read.

Im not really into sparkling fics but the Skywarp and Thundercracker scenes in Spoon888's Accidental War Criminal Aquisition are amazing.

It All Started with Paint Spatters by Dark Star of Chaos is really cute, as is Superball by ntldr

Maybe when I'm done with Endings, this can begin by Leximuth is a certain kind of sad.

And just today I read Trine Love After the War by Baird Crevan, which I quite enjoyed.

And not a Starscream fic, but Could Be Worse by Mimkana is a Knock Out Break Down fic set in a prequal Earthspark continuity and Im actually Beta reading that one so def check it out!

Those are my recs! (Im not sharing my NSFW ones lol!)

#fanfiction #starscream #transformers #fic recs

314 notes · View notes

blue-jisungs · 2 months ago

Text

ancient runes and sea creatures

summary. leehan ends up in his worst nightmare - getting the perfect student into trouble

au. hogwarts!!!! ravenclaw!reader x hufflepuff!leehan

word count. 4722 (got a lil too carried away... )

warnings , extras. leehan is intimidated by reader ?? but in a like. impressed way?? also reader is a head girl prefect!!. a slightly suggestive implication at one point but like, its misinterpreted ++ a bunch of hogwart lingo and lore (?). use od leehans real name. mention of a creature that eats humans

author's note. a biiig thank u to @slytherinshua and @gluion for pushing me out of my writers block w this one!!! and esp moni, who tbh came up w this plot!!! i hhope u like it!!! it kinda took a self-indulent route for me (ancient runes as chinese characters haha... haha... and leehan being a mid student w niche hobbies vs the perfect student yn who! shocker! likes! studying... hahah....ha.....) ANYWHO. also love u to death @l3visbby for proofreading!! where would i be w/o u atp....

also i wanted to post one last thing in 2024!!! so i hope u enjoy it and get ready bc ive been cooking <3

leehan fixed his glasses, fingers brushing against the coarse pages of his favorite book. then, he glanced at his notebook. filled from top to bottom with neat, medium sized, handwritten text. here and there were loose sketches and photographs attached with fish shaped paper clips.

the hufflepuff boy looked up at his gryffindor friends - jaehyun and woonhak. they were chatting about something loudly, the sound of their voices blending in with the noise in the corridor.

sunlight peeked from behind the windows leehan was leaning against, making him feel even more indulged in his own world.

“we’ll keep going. don’t wanna be late for potions!” jaehyun suddenly announced in his ear and ruffled his hair “see you, donghyun!”

he just smiled in return, woonhak having goodbye.

before returning to his book, he let out a small sigh and started looking at the students passing him by. a lot of friends giggling and talking, some people studying or snacking on colorful candy.

then, as if a lightning struck him, he tensed upon noticing you.

you were walking with fast pace yet not hurried one. the navy and grey colored tie rustled on the wind, your hair waving gently. a small frown was painting on your graceful features.

“what do you mean sungho is not showing up? i need everyone there” you asked, glancing at your ravenclaw friend for explanation. however, they did not have any.

“no idea, y/n! he just told me to tell you and wandered off… you have to–” they started.

“i don’t have to do anything. we have to cooperate if we want everything work out” with a scoff, you turned your gaze away and locked eyes with leehan for a mere moment.

he felt blood rushing to his cheeks, quickly glancing down at his book. you looked scary. no, intimidating.

“this thing isn’t here by accident” you gently tapped your head girl badge with pride. “let’s go to class now. i’ll catch sungho later”

leehan didn’t even realize he was holding in a breath - only when the sound of your voice faded away, he released it.

he tilted his head and smiled softly, flipped through the pages. he only stopped when he saw a detailed print of a basilisk. quite terrifying yet devilishly smart creature.

leehan closed the book and packed his belongings, slowly going towards his classroom.

“oh come on, don’t be such a loner!” riwoo’s whines reached nearby standing student’s ears, causing them to look over at the hufflepuffs. leehan cleared his throat and let out a sigh of defeat.

“fine. who else is going? you know i don’t enjoy crowded places in particular…” he started but his friend already started pushing him towards the exit.

“well you, me, jaehyun, woonhak… and, drumroll please! yes, you guessed it! two infamous slytherins, park sungho and han taesan!” riwoo grinned. leehan nodded, satisfied. that’s a perfect amount of people. “and hanbin”

“just hanbin?” leehan frowned, suspicious. riwoo smiled awkwardly, forcing his friend to move faster.

“and sohee!” riwoo hesitated.

“and…?” leehan grunted, halting in place.

“that’s all! i promise!” sanghyeok put his hand over his heart “hufflepuff’s honor!”

leehan just scoffed and followed his friend to three broomsticks. it was weekend, after all. going out with more than two people once in a while won’t hurt him, surely.

it was warm inside, the smell of delicious food hitting his nostrils. donghyun was quick to spot his friends (and their friends). lately jaehyun was detachable from sohee and hanbin.

eight butterbeers were already waiting on the table, sticking to the wood.

“you made it, woah! you have my respect!” woonhak, the youngest, joked. sungho patted the seat next to him and leehan sat down, smiling awkwardly.

“and you? shouldn’t you be on the prefect meeting or whatever?” taesan asked suddenly, sungho rolling his eyes.

“i should. but if i skip one, nothing will happen” he shrugged, reaching for his butterbeer.

“y/n seemed pretty upset about it” the words slipped out of leehan’s lips before he could realize it. everyone looked at him, a bit shocked, so he quickly added: “i heard it when she was passing me by. nothing crazy, it’s not like i talk to her or something”

the mere thought of standing near you terrified him, not to mention talking. donghyun didn’t know how sungho – or anyone, really – was doing that.

“she’s being dramatic. miss perfect… she decided to be in charge of organizing almost everything this year, at least it feels like it” sungho mumbled.

“yeah, it’s crazy how she manages to do it all. well, let’s just hope she won’t cast melfors jinx on you” jaehyun teased

“his head is as big as a pumpkin already, though” taesan snickered and was met with sungho’s fist on his shoulder.

you were sitting on the grass, crossing out the ideas that seemed foolish. the weather was cold, yet snow hasn’t fallen yet. even though it was november, you were in charge of organising events for students that are going to stay at hogwarts during christmas. you being one of them.

well, it wasn’t fully your responsibility - other prefects were supposed to help.

“stupid sungho…” you mumbled, wrapping your scarf tighter around your neck.

you looked up and adored the view in front of you. the last of leaves falling off trees, being swept by wind. here and there you could see some students but during this cold season, majority preferred to stay inside. then, you noticed a particular silhouette.

someone was squatting dangerously close to the lake.

you stood up, packing your belongings in a rush.

as you approached the reckless student, you noticed the yellow and black colors of hufflepuff. of course. you opened your mouth to scold their behavior but you heard a quiet murmur.

“hm? how did you get here, little one? you belong to the island. you couldn’t have possibly swam over here”

you leaned a bit forward and peeked over the hufflepuff student’s shoulder. he was gently reaching his pointer finger out to a bowtruckle.

the small, green creature was staring at the stranger, big brown eyes blinking slowly. it slowly meet half-way with the person’s finger.

“you’re not as shy as you friends” a low chuckle made you smile “i should get you back there… but how?”

the person rose their head up and looked around. the bowtruckle pointed at you.

“oh?” the student tilted their head and looked through their shoulder, meeting your curious gaze. you gasped, getting caught.

the guy’s eyes widened, lips tightening.

“oh” he mumbled. you frowned, his features looking somehow similar.

the hufflepuff boy stood up, acting as if he did not just hid the small creature in his pocket. he tried to walk away but you stopped him.

“hey! it’s dangerous to be out here” you cleared your throat. the guy stopped in his tracks, back facing you “do you have an idea what kind of beasts are there?”

a soft smile cracked on his lips, eyes trained on the ground.

“kelpies, grindylows, selkies… and oh, the giant squid. man, they are so…” he whispered and you were certain he thought his words didn’t reach you. yet, they did. you smiled, realizing he was probably another creature-obsessed student.

“anyway, i do appreciate your care towards this little fella. however, it would be better if hagrid took care of him” you looked at him with a straight face. the hufflepuff boy kept avoiding eye contact and failed to notice the silly bowtruckle escaping from his pocket.

the green creature ran down his pants and started making circles around you.

“i, uh… i don’t know how to hold him” you scoffed, trying to catch it.

“like this. make sure not to tug the leaf on its head…” he breathed out and caught the bowtruckle, holding it in two hands.

awkward silence fell between you two, the boy stubbornly keeping his head low.

“i’ll keep going” he mumbled and wandered off to hagrid’s hut, leaving you puzzled and somehow intrigued.

“hey, chill out” sungho nudged your shoulder, casing your fountain pen to jerk and leave a crooked line. you glared at him.

“i would if someone helped me. i still have to come up with ideas for the three last days and i need to turn them in to mcgonagall by friday” you huffed and tossed your notebook aside.

sungho puffed his cheeks and looked over at taesan for help. he just shrugged, carelessly tucking his hands into his pockets.

“don’t look at me. i’m not even a prefect” his cat-alike smirk made you even more frustrated.

“okay, well… maybe try asking some students what would they want to do?” sungho proposed, scanning your face to gauge your reaction. you let out a small huff.

“see, here we go. thanks. now i just have to ask around who’s staying…” you groaned and noted down the idea, closing your notebook. “but i’ll do that later. now i’ll go, i promised professor snape to help him clean the classroom. a reckless student just… caused a mess, so to say”

the exchanged amused looks and you raised your eyebrows.

“what?”

“nothing. have fun” sungho snorted. his gaze suddenly snapped up to someone else and he waved. you noticed three people walking up.

one of them looking similar.

“hey, myungjae, do you happen to know someone who’s staying at hogwarts during christmas?” sungho asked, leaning on the table. your fingers twitched at the sight of him almost spilling a cup of juice with his elbow.

“well, uh… our leehan and ricky, i think. and zhanghao. and hanbin, he promised to stay with them so they wouldn’t feel lonely” a boy in gryffindor uniform answered and looked at you, a wide smile painting on his lips.

“you’re staying?” taesan asked. you looked at the only hufflepuff boy in the group. so that was leehan?

“yeah” he answered shortly, purposefully averting his gaze from you.

“why–?” taesan kept asking and you just sighed.

“is there anything you would like to do? during the break. i need to organize events for students so i figured it would be the best idea to ask them personally” you crossed your arms.

everyone looked at the guy, his head tilted down and eyes glued to his shoes.

“what’s up with him?” the other gryffindor student whispered.

you waited for a moment before shaking your head. that seemed to work on the boy - he finally looked at you, shyly.

“it’s a hard question, i know. just… hit me up once you figure it out” you sent him a soft smile and went your way.

“what’s up with you? is the potion blowing up in your face still on your mind?” jaehyun laughed and nudged leehan’s shoulder.

“so that was him after all” taesan snickered.

“chill out, donghyun. y/n is really cool, don’t need to be all tensed up around her” sungho teased. leehan looked around, scanning the great hall. some people were looking their way - but that was probably nothing serious, right? just a bunch of losers, a prefect and the head girl prefect that’s an all a student.

“earth to leehan! why are you staying here?” jaehyun asked, waving his hand before the hufflepuff boy’s eyes.

a playful smile painted on leehan’s lips before he explained his reasons to his friends.

rushing through the dark hallway, you pressed your textbook closer to your chest. it was way past the curfew and you hoped flich was done with his late patrols on this side of the castle. you just happened to get too focused on ancient runes and–

“oof-!”

you felt the impact of bumping into something and almost landed on the ground when a strong hand prevented you from falling. you squeezed your eyes, the darkness not allowing you fully to recognize the stranger.

“y/n…?” his soft voice rang familiar and you glanced at his uniform. the yellow badge with a proud badger adorned his chest.

“leehan, right?” you scoffed and he helped you regain balance, taking a step back. that way, the moonlight sneaking through the windows fell on his face, highlighting his features.

he fixed his glasses, brows slightly furrowed.

“what are you doing here?” you whispered, blinking slowly. even though your prefect instincts kicked in, you were genuinely curious.

this boy had just a mysterious aura to him. always so aloof, almost distant. nowadays, you caught yourself noticing him, usually alone reading a book or doing something. something, indeed. just like when you saw him near the lake. he always seemed to be looking for some kind of creatures. you couldn’t help but wonder what he was up to.

“i… uh, i was researching” he smiled gently. his gaze was fixed on you - unlike other times. maybe he didn’t feel so shy now that the midnight darkness was surrounding you two. you thought it was cute. “and, uh… you?”

“ancient runes. they are quite relaxing to me, it’s just… i write them all over to remember how they look. once i nail that i feel like i can read them properly. but just the writing itself… is, yeah. time consuming but fun” you smiled and nudged his arm gently “let’s go together, our dorms are in the same direction”

he nodded and followed you, the quiet sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor.

“did you think about the question? it’s okay if you haven’t, i was just curious” you asked, glancing at him.

“personally, strolling around hogwarts at such hour is nice. i wouldn’t mind it if i was able to do it without the possibility of getting in trouble” he answered. you agreed.

“i haven’t thought about that. hm. maybe it’ll be possible since there’s gonna be less students. i’ll talk to mcgonagall about it” you hummed “thanks”

“and, uh, did you get it all done? like, the events” his voice was quiet. he wasn’t shy but more so, he was cautiously picking his words.

“yes but there’s not going to be much. people i asked didn’t seem interested” you sighed.

“it’s a shame, you’ve been working hard to come up with anything” leehan sent you a reassuring smile. a strange glint sparkled in his eye, some kind of sadness.

“what can i do? i guess they want to be alone, apparently” you scoffed.

“meow”

you two froze, feet glued to the floor. leehan looked at you, wide eyed.

before you could realize, he was pulling you to hide behind a column. with your head squished against his chest, you could hear his heart pounding as if it was about to rip out of his ribcage.

his hand naturally rested on your head, the soft fanning of his breath against your hair.

the sound of footsteps was coming closer and closer as you tried to think of something.

a sudden beam of light caused leehan to squint his eyes, pulling you slightly closer.

“what an absurd! not only it is after curfew, you are also… doing things that should be kept private! this place is coming to an end! who would have thought, students… of opposite-!”

“what? no! it’t not like that!” you choked out, turning around on your heel.

“mrs l/n?!” filch gasped, and mrs norris’ loud meow was almost soul ripping “out of all people! you?”

“no, it’s not like that! we just…” leehan’s voice was quiet, almost stuttering.

“yes? explain your red faces then! someone who was caught wouldn’t be such a blushing mess! dear merlin, what is going on with those youngsters nowadays!” the caretaker whined.

“we weren’t doing anything, mr filch! we just- we tried to hide! from you, it is. not from you as in… we didn’t-” you tried to explain. when you turned around to check up on the ravenclaw boy, he was indeed as red as the gryffindor representative color. his eyes were glued to the ground and you could swear you saw sweat dripping down his temple.

“detention!”

his eyes snapped up, wide as two prophecy orbs. panic written all over his face, fingers fiddling.

“it’s my fault. let’s not bring y/n into this” he spoke up, swallowing hard.

“how so? i see you two. not just you, boy” mr filch said with an attitude, picking up mrs norris. “i’m not repeating myself. detention. madam pince needs help in the library, so it’s just perfect”

“but-” leehan tried to cut in but the cat interrupted him with an aggressive hiss.

“now go! before i take points from your houses!” the caretaker tsked and you ran off, grabbing his hand. you could only hear distant murmurs “the head girl… youngsters are getting worse and worse each year…”

once out of his reach, almost at the ravenclaw dormitory, you realized you’re still holding his hand. leehan halted, gasping.

“i’m so sorry, y/n! i don’t know what’s gotten into him but i’ll do it myself. please, don’t bother–” the hufflepuff boy started rambling, avoiding your gaze. was he scared you’re angry at him?

you gently put your hand on his arm.

“hey”

leehan slowly looked into your eyes; however, just for a split second. his breath was heavy in the silence.

“it’s alright. i can handle one detention. in the library? it sounds like a pleasure to me” you huffed, trying to cheer him up. poor boy, he must’ve really felt guilty. “he got so pissed because he has never felt the touch of a woman. mr filch got jealous, that’s all”

you chuckled but leehan remained quiet. well, maybe that was a failed attempt at trying to cheer him up.

“i, uh. anyway, i’m sorry too. don’t beat yourself about it, okay?” you whispered, patting his arm. leehan’s small nod made you content. “sleep well, leehan”

he felt your hand slip off his shoulder.

maybe if he wasn’t too ashamed to look up, he would’ve noticed the way you looked back at him before entering the dormitory.

leehan was standing between the bookshelves, enjoying the smell of books. the library was quiet, thanks to the majority of students having left already. even madam pince wandered off to somewhere.

“hi”

he turned his head to the side and was shocked to see you. out of your ravenclaw uniform, at that.

“hi” he whispered and quickly returned his gaze to the book he was holding. he gulped nervously, his adam’s apple bobbing.

it was his worst nightmare, actually. bringing the all-star student into detention with him. even though the fault was technically on both sides, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. you should be resting and not…

“how’s it going?” you asked quietly, standing next to him. your back faced the bookshelf he was facing, side profiles matching.

“it’s quite pleasant, to be frank” he mumbled in response “you didn’t have to come here”

you scoffed and scanned all the books, laying in messy piles. they really needed reorganizing.

“would i really be able to call myself a student without getting in trouble even once?” you snickered, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “i told you not to worry about it, leehan”

silence fell between you two, only the sound of him flipping the pages bringing warm comfort.

“it’s donghyun, actually” he said softly with a twinge of happiness. you cocked your head and glanced at him, grabbing a random book. “leehan is a nickname that just… stayed. donghyun is my real name”

“it’s pretty” it slipped out of your lips before you could realize, so you just hung your head low and decided to think of a strategy on how to resort the books. leehan smirked and put the book he was holding on one of the shelves. to break the awkward tension you accidentally created, you cleared your throat “uh, did you take care of that bowtruckle back then?”

“bowtruckles aren’t really my thing so i took it to hagrid. he promised me to get it back to its home tree” he hummed, reaching for another book. he ran his fingers over the navy colored cover, the remaining letters of a handwritten title barely there anymore.

“so what is, then?” you asked.

even though you didn’t have to be quiet, you two kept talking softly. you couldn’t put your finger on it but maybe it was the overall atmosphere of the library. alas, you wouldn’t say you minded. it was comforting.

“sea creatures” donghyun answered with a soft sigh. did you irritate him?

“sorry. you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. i’m just curious about you” you mumbled.

your shoulders were touching and you felt his arm move now and then whenever he reached out to put away a book.

leehan hummed in deep thought, far away with his thoughts - hence, he didn’t hear you.

he never would have thought that he would be conversing with you. you were just so out of his league and intimidated him. good grades, friends with everyone… but deep down it was your organization skills. you just had it all together. despite all those side things you took care of, you still managed to find time to study. heck, you even liked it? he recalled your conversation from the hallway. what did you say about ancient runes…?

“they are quite relaxing to me, it’s just… i write them all over to remember how they look. once i nail that i feel like i can read them properly. but just the writing itself… is, yeah. time consuming but fun.”

how can one find thousands of new icons to learn, memorise and remember… relaxing. he was a bit jealous that you did it so effortlessly.

and sure, he heard you complaining about tests and exams. but you still passed with ease. unlike him, who no matter how much he studied, still barely passed.

“ouch!”

a soft thump of a book falling brought him back to life.

he leaned down to pick it up but only bumped against your forehead.

blood rushed to his cheeks out of embarrassment. but you just giggled and took the book, putting it back.

he must have been zoned out for a while because he noticed you did one of the shelves already.

you grabbed another book. it had a black cover and no title whatsoever. you started flipping pages to check what even it’s about. leehan, who was peeking through your shoulder, saw a glimpse of an interesting drawing.

“the giant squid” he placed his finger before you closed the book. you were startled a bit and looked around to meet his face quite close to yours.

yet, his brown eyes were fixated on the creature.

“do you know it’s semi-domesticated? on the chocolate frog cards its described as “the bane” of hogwarts’ students who wanted to go for a “dip in the lake”. it’s so dumb. first of all, it lives very deep in the lake, so even a small dip wouldn’t hurt. and secondly, it’s harmless. it…” he hesitated and a shy smile formed on his lips. you couldn't help but smile as well “it even allows students to feed it bread”

“really?” you asked in disbelief, turning your gaze to look at the drawing of a giant squid. donghyun’s low hum of confirmation made shivers ran down your spine.

“toast to be specific” he added and you felt a movement.

leehan stepped closer and you could feel his body almost pressing against yours, his breath softly fanning over your cheek. the hufflepuff leaned closer to read the information. right, of course.

“but you know, it must be because its magical. true giant squids, architeuthis i think, wouldn’t be able to stand our lake’s lack of salinity. and normally, it wouldn’t digest food” donghyun shrugged. you didn’t know what was happening to you - you couldn’t prevent your smile from growing. listening to him rambling about his niche sea creature interest really warmed your heart.

oh, this boy got you whipped.

“i think it’s a subspecies. like kneazles and mundane cats” leehan added, his finger tracing the black inked illustration of the squid’s tentacles.

your breath hitched. you wanted to reply, to throw a comment. but you realized you had no knowledge in this discipline, making you even more intrigued with donghyun.

“i really want to see it one day. maybe in summer. sometimes it plays with students, you know? lays out its tentacles out of the lake and just… lets the students mess with it” he tsked “hopefully…”

“i’d like to see that” you giggled. you heard a faint gasp and glanced at him. his eyes snapped back at you, as if he just realized he’s been rambling.

“i’ll take you with me, then. i planned on going at the end of the year, just before leaving for summer break” he shot you a soft smile, small crinkles forming around his eyes (and you swore your knees just went weak).

“i’m in” you grinned and gently moved his finger out of the book. then, you closed it and stood on your tiptoes to put it on the higher shelf.

however, you couldn’t reach.

“let me help you” donghyun’s tender voice once again rang from behind you.

soon enough, you felt his warm hand on your hip as he took the book from your hand and placed it for you. for a mere moment you could feel his chest pressing against your back, the smell of his cologne invading your senses like a swarm of butterflies whirling around you.

you didn't even realize when the hufflepuff boy was back in his position, putting back the rest of the books. and further on ramling about sea creatures.

“there was also a case of the giant squid helping a student that had fallen into the lake…”

sitting on a nearby bench, you were writing the ancient runes to form a sentence. actually, you were writing in your journal about today’s date with donghyun. his own notebook was laying next to you - he was afraid to get it wet.

“ah, y/n, quick! a grindylow!” he yelped and you shot to your feet, dropping your journal onto the bench. with snow crunching underneath your feet, you sprinted towards the hufflepuff boy. he had his scarf and hat on, pink nose peeking from the layers.

“how did it come here?” you asked curiously, quickly joining his side.

leehan's gloved hand grabbed yours and pointed at the quickly swimming creature. it was barely visible due to its dark color blending with the green shade of the lake but you could see its outline.

“my bet is looking for food. they like fish. or maybe it was bored. or…” donghyun hesitated, looking over at you. you shifted your gaze at him, looking at his big brown eyes hidden behind his glasses. “or… it came here for its prey!”

donghyun suddenly wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground and spinning around. you squealed, taken by a surprise.

“they don’t eat humans!” you whined when he put you down.

“uh… sure…” he chuckled and reached to the pocket of his puffy jacket. he grabbed some dried algae and threw it into the water. you moved closer to him, suddenly scared. interlocking arms with his, you snuggled onto his side.

“it eats people?” you asked quietly as you saw the creature swimming closer to the food. its head poked out of the water surface, small, black, shiny eyes looking at you before taking a bite of the algae.

leehan snickered and grabbed your chin, eyes locking with you.

“only cuties like you” he grinned and moved his yellow and black scarf out of his face. then, he leaned closer and kissed you softly. even though his lips were cold, you felt warmth spreading through your body. you smiled into the kiss and pulled him even closer by the scarf.

who would have thought that two days after the detention you’d gain the courage to ask him out.

he pulled back slightly, first looking at your lips with a smirk and then back in your eyes.

“and humans. but only the grown grindylows and that one is still a baby” he grinned. and before you could even roll your eyes, he pulled your ravenclaw-colored hat down and covered half of your face. with a giggle, he pulled you closer.

masterlist <3

taglist. @slytherinshua ,, @weird-bookworm

262 notes · View notes

wukyma · 1 month ago

Note

Oh you answered my question ♡ thank u, you fed us so much with all this lore !

First of all, the new poseidon illustration is now my new phone wallpaper, omg his pretty big face with the voluptuous hair .

Second of all, pretty please continue even without pictures ! I'm so interested in your Au! (Ur so right about the not-excuses of Odysseus, I would want Vengeance tho after this bad self-centered justification)

Love the poli/peri/emperor friendship, it's not the first time I see this headcanon and it's such a good idea actually (of course SweetBoyPoli is friend with everyone but the impeccable flavor of a friendship between opposites is still very cool/ complementary) !

But but if I can ask for pictures i would die to see 👀 the moment where they conclude the deal ?

(Also the HAND almost ON Polites FACE??? I have stated at that one for definitely too long. Oh god. Please, its kinda make me feral. )

💫Tatooed Polities ?💫 I must see him with the trident tattoo one day... OR even better : eurylochus/ody reaction to it! Because They know him for almost forever now, so the devastating realitie must be so hard on them (having a deal with a strong and violent god such as the earthshaker and all the implications, ohh good Angst!)

Okay, tell me I read that right too, Poli becoming ✨️friend ✨️ with Circe ?? Fuck your brain is big. Gotta think about the events on circe island with your Polities, that change everything for the better. Of course they can't fight so that rule out Ody and the Moly but maybe Hermes's still here anyway ? Like the little mischievous god he is...

So I have to ask, is Poseidon gonna spy on the fleet -especially Poli since he's beefing with him- ? I kinda have this picture of water spirits reporting to the god every steps ? Tell me if I'm in the wrong ~

(I'm SO ready for mockery tho 🧨 )

Honestly I'm really invested here so every choice is good ♡ would appreciate to read more anyway

(Not very good at detective sorry but hoping someone else will find it!)

FIRST OF ALL receive my massive thanks for writing such a detailed comment on my AU!! These guys are very dear to me, and it makes me extremely happy when someone matches my freak has the same vision <33

And you made it your wallpaper?? I'll bawl fr. Sadlyy i didn't really think through the moment where they concluded the deal, but have an interpretation! (Watch as i struggle drawing without any references except my own face)

The tattoo situation is interesting too because its purpose isn't only to seal the deal ;D hoping that I'll be able to show how that works in the next part— and yes, you're right about Circe; I don't care that it's basically a spoiler because they are just besties material 🫶✨️ can definitely promise a glimpse of Hermes!!

I didn't think of Poseidon using spies, but that's kinda adorable and I'll draw it anyway hehe,, something something water winions lore

(The bottom two are both from water but different species/habitats ig? Whatever, I didn't think too much about it)

#kymanswered #epic the musical #epic the musical fanart #epic polites #polites #epic poseidon #poseidon #epic winions #winions #oa challenge au #yep imma really call it that #lotus eaters #posepoli #polites x posiedon #poseidon x polites #edit: don't be shy anon the city needs to know its heroes #my dms are wide open

97 notes · View notes

kirabasai · 2 months ago

Text

svsss au where there's a system glitch that happens as shen yuan saves liu qingge from his qi deviation, resulting in sy's system being linked to lqg as well. aka, they share a system account. they share quests and points and everything. this... Changes things. such as well, the implications and fallout of an early system/identity reveal to one person, someone that hated the original shen qingque. but also, lqg being forced to have to work together and cooperate with an "imposter"! like in my head i can see lqg being rlly conflicted abt everything that's going on at the start. sy will get over it somewhat quickly i think because sure, why not, fuck you system!! but also in pidw lqg isn't a major character so i can see him having less hangups abt working w him. like his experience w lqg is basically a blank slate. but lqg? he has history w sqq. he simultaneously is on a blank slate and a huge monolith of history/shared experiences/past. he needs to not only adapt to that but also his new situation of sharing sy's system.

i've been microwaving this idea in my head for the last day or so and mmmm yes.s i love lqg. i haven't read svsss in like 4 or 5 years maybe so my memory of certain things is kinda fuzzy but i Cannot get this au idea out of my head

#svsss #scum villian self saving system #liu qingge #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #svsss system #sai speaks #liushen #in my head this is a slow burn liushen #i am 100% convinced if lbh wasn't well. lbh. then lqq would have been the love interest.#like cmon dude transmigrates into another guy's body and saves the life of a man who hated that guy??#the potential.#dont get me wrong i love bingqiu but in the grand scheme of things in this au lqq gets a headstart in many ways #such as being insanely pretty #and also being in a position where he has to cooperate w sy but also they r technically peers #and if lbh still gets thrown into the abyss tjen well. that's a lot of years combined for lqq to get ahead #also im sorry i love poly ships and lbh/lqq/sqq is cute #but personally i cannot see sy as poly #it took how many years for him to realize he was a boykisser????#and like it's been maybe 5ish years since i read svsss but iirc wasn't sy still like hmm yes lbh is my exception. gay only for him #he's utterly hopeless there is no way he's snagging a second bf #born to give sy a harem forced to pick only 1 bofie because he's an idiot #scum villain's self saving system #liu qingge x shen yuan #liu qingge x shen qingqiu #svsss au #i want to start writing this but i probably need to reread svsss to refamiliarize myself fully w sy & lqq's personalities #which would hav been easy i could've done that in like a day svsss is p short but #the fan translations r no more </3 #mxtx

94 notes · View notes

mins-fins · 7 months ago

Text

remember summer days !

"i love summer because i love you.."

synopsis: forever going beaches, aggressive seagulls, brain freezing ice cream, many many shots, summer vacation is simply two months where you can be as reckless as possible without scathing schoolwork and the crushing feeling of student loans on your back, your two months to be an idiot without the worry of missing your morning classes due to hangovers, but there's something different about this summer. why didn't anyone tell mark that he could've possibly fallen in love with his best friend over the course of two months? who knew that you were really the one the whole time?

pairing: mark lee x male!reader

genre: university au, summer romance, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, light angst, humor(?), mutual pining, kinda sort of kinda suggestive, mainly mark pov

warnings: swearing, explicit language, sexual jokes, implications of sex but no smut, mentions of sexual harassment, smoking & alcohol consumption, complicated feelings, pathetic best friends are in love with each other but are dumb and don't realize until 15 years too late

word count: 15.9k

notes: the way i convinced myself i was never going to finish this and itd just become send in the clowns pt.2 😭 after the trials and tribulations of life, and hospital visit after hospital visit, i have finally posted something above 10k words!! applause!! (crickets) this has been in the drafts for FOUR MONTHS.. since march 10th ive been pressuring myself to finish, i literally finished endless nameless before this.. what kind of work ethic is that? also this was supposed to be sooooo much sadder and the og ending was supposed to bring tears BUT i am a saint and decided to not put you guys through torture bc most of my mark works are angsty anyway and because user junjiie would block me if i ever put him through another mark angst fest again 😁 speaking of user junjiie, thank you for listening to everything that i spout in your inbox.. your the best 🫶 and if youve ever wanted to kiss mark, your in the right place 👍

THE RUSHING OF THE OCEAN BEFORE him is all that's present in marks ears. the sand in his shoes don't register in his mind, nor do the seagulls eating bread right in front of him, just the ocean. the ocean is beautiful, a serene endless reservoir, one mark wishes he could just jump into and never leave. he can't focus on anything else around him, not the upcoming sunset, not the squawking birds, not the people muttering about the eventide, not even how beautiful his surroundings are, the ocean is his main center of attention, and mark spends so much time admiring it. the ocean is beautiful, it's monumental, mark can't exactly put it into more words, he might run out almost immediately. in moments like these, it doesn't matter the words he uses, it's just being immersed in the scenery that matters.

"hello? earth to lee minhyung!"

mark flinches, but his shoulders quickly relax when he sees who the yeller was. it's just you. annoying, absentminded, angel faced you, a small smile makes itself present on your features as you finally catch the formerly spaced out male's attention.

"thank god, for a moment there i thought you were gone".

mark doesn't find himself snickering at your words, he instead gives you that 'really?' stare, it's not that your joke wasn't funny, he just doesn't have the energy to laugh. "why are you even yelling? were on a public beach, idiot".

mark mutters the last word, but he knows you heard it anyway because you put your arm around him and pinch him in his shoulder as payback. he winces at the pain, you and your unusually strong fingers, you just smile in victory.

oh you, always so eager for revenge.

"you were staring at the ocean like it was your one true love, what? were you imagining hyuck or something?"

mark doesn't even know when the two of you began walking, but he isn't exactly focused on that, or your teasing words which hint at something that is completely false, he's more focused on how breathtaking you are.

mark would never say it's..anything not platonic. sometimes, though, he can't help but focus on just how amazing your features compliment you. you always look beautiful like this, in lightings like this is what he means.

mark isn't an idiot, he can acknowledge how attractive you are, even if you always tease him whenever he compliments you.

"i was just admiring it, why does there always have to be something more with you?" his quick rebuttal doesn't make it past you so easily, but you decide to go easy on mark, you can't just tease him the whole time, or you'll just start going back and forth.

"because, you're always so extra, there's no reason you should be staring at the ocean like you want to kiss it or something".

mark rolls his eyes, you're so stupid, you always have something to say, your mind must be so full of things, considering you constantly have a reply for mark locked and loaded, ready to go. "you can't even try to go easy on me?"

"nope, you know me, annoying you is the best part of my day!"

mark does know, it's like you've made it your life mission to never let him live anything down the moment you two met at a random park in vancouver when you were just little kids trying to figure out how to navigate the world. whether it was you following mark home, teasing him after beating him at basketball, or you were making fun of the way he styled his hair that day, you've never allowed mark lee to exist peacefully since you two decided to cross paths.

even as adults, adults who are studying to get bachelor's degrees, who pay their own bills, who can now legally drink, and who don't need parental consent to do anything anymore, you'll still never let mark live anything down.

it's fun to annoy you! you always tell mark, a tormenting on your face as giggles escaped your lips.

"i wish i didn't know you".

you manage a gasp of fake offense, placing a hand on your chest in pure shock. mark seems pleased, he shakes out of your hold and begins walking forward, leaving you and your dramatics behind.

you snicker, raising an eyebrow. you quickly catch up to him, hands shoved into your pockets as you give your best friend that familiar taunting smile, the one you know that he can't stand. "you're so mean to me, minhyung".

mark just scoffs, trying his best to ignore you. you don't take that, though, instead walking right up to him and lacing your fingers together. "don't ignore me".

please, mark wishes he could.

"you're annoying".

that familiar taunting smile comes to your lips, a soar of victory in your chest. "i know" you reply simply, squeezing his hand. "now do you wanna watch the sunset or what?"

it's only now that the realization dawns on mark, the sunset, how could he even forget?

to be fair, it's hard to focus on the sunset when your gorgeous best friend is holding your hand staring at your lips—

"you dummy" you say almost immediately. "you were the one who kept pestering me about the sunset and you forgot?"

"i was focused on other things.."

"let me guess" you pretend to think, fingers still intertwined with marks as you pull him and the two of you begin walking back towards the beach you'd walked away from. "you were too focused on my alluring beauty?"

mark shoves you with his shoulder. "you wish".

"i don't have to wish, you think i'm the prettiest boy in the world".

you do have a knack for the dramatics. mark doesn't know how many more eye rolls he can do before you realize he isn't exactly lying about finding you attractive, he just would never admit it to your face, one: because he doesn't want to stroke your ego, and two: he truly doesn't have the balls to.

"please, get over yourself".

"it's not my fault you want to kiss me so bad, you have the perfect opportunity to anywa—"

mark immediately shoves your face away when you pucker your lips and try to lean closer. "ew no, you probably taste like cigarettes".

mark finally snakes out of your hold, walking ahead of you and back towards the beach. his face is red, only heating up more as he hears your tormenting giggles.

how do you even have an affect like this on him? he'll never know, but he'll continue standing his ground.

mark lee will never admit to your face that he's attracted to you, or that he wants to kiss you, or that you're probably the prettiest boy he's ever met.

mark lee doesn't have the confidence to admit any of that to your face.

MARK ALWAYS MAKES THE MISTAKE OF UNDERESTIMATING your alcohol tolerance. back to back drinks seem to be your thing, and he has no idea how you can even do that without even feeling like you're going to throw up. mark feels nauseous just watching the whole thing go down, but he's gotten used to the unpredictability of your character, so the idea of you being this "crazy drinker" isn't exactly a far fetched kind of claim, you don't even get offended when people say it anymore. you seem to enjoy fully embracing the insults you get from people, it's kind of admirable.. in a sense? mark doesn't know how to explain it, because it sounds stupid when put into words.

"sir can i have one mor—"

"oh no! no no no! no more drinks for you" mark immediately cuts you off, putting his arm around your shoulder to support you. he smiles politely at the man behind the counter, and he helps you stand up, ignoring your disagreeing whines. "my apologies, we'll be heading out now".

"mark!" you whine, stretching the letters of his name whilst letting your body fall against his. "you can't do this to me, i wasn't done yet" your drunken complaints fall deaf on mark's ears, and he pulls you back up once again, your arm coming up to wrap around his waist. he's basically supporting your whole body, as you can barely even walk yourself.

"it's two in the morning, y/n" mark states, but you don't really care, you just pout. "you can't afford to drink anymore, you're going to die if you keep drinking like this".

"if i die at least i'll die beautiful".

your words slur together in an idiotic way, and you laugh like you're the most hilarious person in the world. you lean against mark, letting him carry you through the streets of jeju, closing your eyes. "yeah well, if you think i'm letting you intoxicate yourself to the point of blacking out, you're out of your mind".

"because you are so in love with me?"

"no, because you're my best friend".

and maybe i am just a little in love with you, but that isn't important right now.

"sure, keep telling yourself that mark lee".

mark hates when you get drunk like this, because it's like the moment the alcohol sinks into your system, you become a mind reader. you can always seem to tell what's going on with mark when your drunk out of your mind, like you just reach into his brain and pull out his biggest secrets.

he never knows how you do it, or how you just magically forget everything you say when your sober (he's actually grateful you do, because the kind of stuff you say when your drunk should stay like that, drunk remarks).

"i can walk on my own, you know.." you mutter, clearly very out of it. the words only make mark's arm tighten around you, he cannot afford to let you go, because you're going to collapse onto the street and never be able to pick yourself up. he doesn't care about your complaints, your whining, or how you're trying to separate yourself from him, he only has one goal, to make sure you get back to the house, and get to bed. "you don't need to carry me".

"your legs are practically useless right now, y/n, don't argue with me" mark somehow manages to hold you up with one arm as he rummages through his pocket, looking for the keys to the house. you clearly want to argue with him, but you can't, instead slumping to the side and pouting.

finally, mark finds the keys to the house and unlocks the door, hoisting you up and helping you step in. "you're like my prince charming, you know that markie?"

you sound like your going insane, you always get like this when your drunk. mark thinks he doesn't mind that much, your extra hilarious when drunk, even with how annoying you are when your wasted (not like you aren't also annoying when sober).

"that's nice, y/n" you whine once again when mark lets go of you, but you let yourself fall back onto the couch, curling onto it and wrapping your arms around your own waist, suddenly chilly.

"are you cold?"

there's a certain tone of disbelief in mark's voice, and you guess he has a point. it's mid-july, the two of you are on an island, and all temperatures are high right now, how could you even be cold?

"just kinda chilly.."

"in the middle of july?" mark questions, focused on his mission of searching for cups in the kitchen cupboards. he needs to help you sober up, or maybe he'll just let you go to sleep like this (actually he can't, you'd complain all morning if you woke up with such a hangover).

"i can't control the random chills i get, mark" you seem to enjoy whining about stupid things. you tighten your own hold around your waist, as if trying to heat up your own body yourself. "it's like elsa's living here or something".

"okay you big baby" mark responds, walking up to you and handing a glass of water. you stare at the cup for a good minute or so before finally taking it, though you can't exactly stomach water at the moment, you appreciate how much mark is doing for you. "get better and go to sleep".

you still feel just a little nauseous, and you realize back to back drinks for hours probably wasn't the best idea. you cover your face with your hands, yet another complaining whine escaping your lips. "it's not as easy as it sounds, minhyung".

"you could at least drink the water, appreciate my efforts".

"i do appreciate your efforts, i just feel like i'm about to throw up".

"that's what you get for doing all of that drinking".

you have no more energy to argue with your best friend, instead turning over and making yourself comfortable on the couch, your head placed on his lap. "yeah yeah, whatever smartass, now let me sleep.."

mark chuckles. "you don't want to go to your room?"

"no, your my pillow now, you legally have to stay here".

mark raises an eyebrow, amused by your sudden change of heart. "legally?"

"yes legally, now be quiet and let me sleep".

mark shuts his mouth, not only because he doesn't want to argue with you, but because you did really need this sleep.

he doesn't mind this, he decides.

"WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING?" MARK LOOKS UP UPON hearing your inquiry, his eyes finally moving away from his computer and focusing on you. your hair is messy, he assumes from the roughness you used when drying it, and your clothes look comfy. it's that pajama set yuta got you for your birthday that you swore you hated and would never wear ever. he laughs in his head at the fact, but then he focuses back on you, realizing he indeed does have a question to answer. "grey's anatomy" he answers just as unnaturally as he thought he would, he internally cringes at the fact. you raise an eyebrow, clearly questioning the show choice, but you make your way over to him anyway, the closer you get, the better mark can see you, your features practically glow in the dimly lit room.

"grey's anatomy? i didn't even know you liked that show.." you make space for yourself beside mark and prop yourself up on your elbows, eyes narrowing at his laptop screen. mark just lets you, it's been a long day, despite it being summer, mark still has so much to do, he never truly gets breaks.

"i don't really like it, it's kinda just a guilty pleasure" he replies, gesturing towards his computer. "cristina's the best character.."

"your just saying that because she's the only characters name you remember".

mark snorts, lightly nudging you. "are you really going to stay here with me?"

you give him a dumbfounded look, as if that was possibly the dumbest question he could've asked ever. "why would i not? would you prefer for me to ignore you while we're on vacation together? i wanna spend time with my best friend.."

mark hums, clasping his hands together. your words have an unchecked effect on him, a small red hue spreading across his cheeks. the words are so simple, so they shouldn't be having him react like this, he feels like he's going insane.

why do you make him feel like this?

mark never gets it with you.

you're just his best friend, you two have been together since you were six, it's crazy how even through all the crazy stuff that's happened in your lives, the two of you have somehow managed to survive, even with all odds stacked against you.

mark has to admit, you two aren't the most.. normal of a pair? there are times the two of you didn't talk for months, times where you couldn't even stand each other, but then are also times like this, times where you two are just regular best friends who do regular best friend things.

best friends hold hands.

best friends match jewelry.

best friends occasionally share a bed and wrap themselves in each other's arm whilst sleeping.

and best friends look at each other with the same kind of love admiration mark looks at you with.

when have you ever been anything more than friends? there has never been a romantic element there as far as mark knows. yeah you always make stupid jokes about the two of you being a couple, but you've never said anything which could imply that, and even if you are in love with him, you've never tried to act on those desires, not physically at least.

mark's never seen the way the two of you act to be weird, he could never get why other people always looked at you weird, like they knew something the two of you didn't.

and it's even weirder because your guys' other friends do the same thing, the shifty glances, the unnecessary eyebrow raising, and the stupid giggles.

mark remembers this one time jungwoo said this thing, and it's stuck with him ever since.

"what's with you and y/n?"

the question came out of nowhere, mark had been focused on some writing assignment he'd left to the last minute, sitting at the kitchen counter as he tried to figure out what huge words he could use to make himself sound sophisticated. "what do you mean?"

"you and y/n, you guys are weird, i can't tell if you're trying to look your dating or are actually a couple".

the statement came off as shocking to mark, why would he even begin to think that? when have you two ever come off as a couple? he has no idea..

"you're ridiculous, y/n and i aren't trying to look like we're dating".

mark said those words with confidence, but he doesn't even know if he's genuinely sure about that.

"yeah, sure" jungwoo scoffed, he has no faith in mark at all. "maybe you think you aren't, but he's surely trying to, he's literally so in love with you it's insane".

mark paused, thinking about it. maybe he just doesn't pay much attention to it, or maybe jungwoo was just making stuff up, he does really enjoy lying. "you might be crazy".

"i'm not! excuse my language, mark, but it is so obvious that y/n likes you, he wants to fuck you so bad it's disgusting!"

marks eyebrows furrowed, and he gave jungwoo that familiar 'are you serious?' look.

"y/n wants to fuck me?"

"oh he definitely does! he isn't even trying to hide it".

mark thinks all of your guys' friends must be crazy, experiencing a shared hysteria or something. you two don't act weird, your just how you always are.

"so?"

mark remembers this other thing as well, it was about a month before school ended, and he was sat on johnny's living room floor, flipping through the boring tv channels, trying to find anything interesting to watch. "so what?"

"what are you doing this summer?" the older asked, there was a clear annoyance in his voice, mark guesses it's because he had to ask the question like seven times. "any good plans?"

mark's fingers continued to click the remote, he doesn't remember what channel he was looking for, but he remembers shrugging in response to johnny's question. "not sure yet, y/n said he wanted the two of us to go somewhere together, but he hasn't really gotten back to me on that".

at the mere mention of you, a small laugh sounded from johnny, and mark noticed it enough that he paused his channel flipping. "y/n?"

"yes y/n, as in my best friend y/n, whose also your friend?"

"jesus that guys like, obsessed with you".

the words caused for mark to respond with his signature weird glance, he looked at johnny as if the older had just placed a curse on his entire family. "where is this coming from?"

"i just have eyes, mark, are you two really best friends? or have you just not discovered how you actually feel for each other?"

that was so strange.

mark immediately wanted to deny all of it, his eyes moved away from johnny and back to the tv, but he wasn't really focused on the tv, trying to find a response to the words that struck him like a punch to the gut. "i have no idea what your talking about".

"well i'm just saying what everyone else is saying".

and yeah, maybe mark's an idiot for not taking any of those words into account, but he doesn't really have to! if you were so in love with him like everyone assumed, you'd tell him, right? you two always tell each other what's going on in your lives, and that's to like, a concerning rate.

if you were in love with mark, you'd tell him, because what use is there in keeping such a big secret?

there's a lot of them, actually, mark, but you know y/n would never do that to you, he'd never.

MARK IS SLEEPLESS, LIKE— VERY. for the past few hours, all he's done is toss and turn in the same direction for who knows how long. his blanket is on the floor, but he doesn't exactly remember putting it there. he probably threw it off his bed during one of his many tossing fits a good couple hours ago. he groans, just accepting that he's not getting any sleep tonight. after hours of refusing to leave his bed, mark stretches his limbs, finally sitting up and swinging out of his bed since he got into it like four hours ago. no one whose on vacation sleeps early, but mark had assumed the exhaustion in his body would aid in helping him doze off, but his body is a weird one, so he hurriedly makes his way out of his room, suddenly craving water.

mark regrets choosing the room with the huge window right in front of the beach, yeah it's nice and everything but in the middle of the night, waking up the sound of the rushing ocean is just the slightest bit anxiety inducing, especially when he's in the middle of some horrible nightmare.

mark's feet take him directly where he wants to go, the kitchen, he needs a glass of water, maybe two, maybe three, heck— maybe seven. he doesn't think much about not seeing you, he just assumes you had better luck than him in the sleep department.

he only gets distracted on his walk when he hears a small sound, the sound of something hitting against the wall. he pauses in his steps, listening in to see if what he was hearing was actually real. it's silent for a few seconds, but then mark hears it again, the sound of something slamming against the wall.

it's coming from your room.

mark furrows his eyebrows, puzzled. now totally unfocused on his current goal, mark turns around and heads in the direction of your room, anxieties amping up as his mind begins thinking of horrible things.

god please don't be hurt please don't be hurt please please please please—

when mark peaks his head through your door, he's met with a strange sight. a clearly asleep you, muttering nonsense to yourself as you continuously weak into your dresser, bumping against it, then causing for it to bump against the wall. oh, mark gets it, your sleepwalking.

he sighs in relief, at least you aren't injured or something. he steps into the room, making his way towards you, he makes sure that he doesn't make too much noise walking, he doesn't want you to have some visceral reaction.

he gently taps your shoulder. "y/n".

no answer, you just walk into your dresser again.

"y/n" mark calls out again, but you don't answer him, just continue muttering to yourself as you walk into your dresser again, bumping roughly against it, causing for mark to wince, as if he was the one to collide with the dresser. he places both hands on your shoulder, turning you around to face him.

"y/n".

that seems to do the trick, because you startle out of your state, a gasp accompanying your actions. your startled state startles mark as well, whose hands quickly remove themselves from your shoulders. "okay okay, calm down, it's just me" his voice does calm you down, nothing else can be heard in the room besides the breathing of you two and the faint running of the ocean outside.

"oh, holy shit, what did i— what was that?"

mark has been through this with you many times before, he knows how to deal with stuff like this, he's gotten very in tune with your habits. "you were sleepwalking, y/n" he replies, and a look of disappointment settles on your face.

"again? ugh i thought i got rid of that stupid habit" you cover your face with your hands, stressed. "i didn't do anything crazy right? like.. turn on the oven? start the car? unlock the door?"

"no no, none of that" mark is weirded out. seeing the usually energetic, playful, joking you be so stressed, your voice so low compared to your usual shouting. he worries about you, a lot, so he puts his hand on your shoulder again. "seriously it's fine, you were just walking into your dresser and mumbling some unintelligible shit, that's all".

you don't seem to enjoy the sound of that, seeing as how you freeze at the words, only frowning once again. mark, like always, notices your change in behavior, and he instinctively carts his hand through your hair. he originally doesn't know why he does it, but you don't seem to mind, you settle into the touch even, comforted by it.

"do you?.. maybe we should go on a walk on the beach? just to clear your mind, you know.."

he continues to run his hand through your hair. mark loves your hair, it's pretty, soft, and you never really dye it, so it always looks as good as new. you consider his words, taking in a breath. "no i just— i just need water".

water, that's all you need.

mark can do that, it's not like your asking him to bring the stars to you (but mark would, he would go thousands of miles, travel galaxies to make sure you were happy), you just want water. mark stops his hair caressing, his hand moving down to yours, where he intertwines your fingers. you give a small smile as he does so, but mark doesn't see it, he's much too focused on making sure you get your water.

you stay silent, which is so strange to mark. you talk a lot, you love talking, talking mark's ear off is on the list of things you have to do during your day. "just water? that's it".

you frown when mark lets go of your hand, missing the small act of affection. "yeah" you whisper. "just water".

mark gets you exactly that, water, and the two of you sit in a comfortable silence at the kitchen counter. none of you talking. the sound of the ocean waves crashing against each other meet both your ears, but none of you say anything, just sit there with a now empty cup between you two.

"everything good now?" mark asks, he just needs to make sure, seeing you like this is so unfamiliar, it makes him overly anxious.

"yeah yeah everything is fine".

"you sure?" mark needs extra confirmation, extra reassurance from you that you're okay, he wants for you to talk to him, tell him what's going on with you, because mark is your best friend, and he has to help you with these things. "you can tell me anything, you know".

"mark" you say softly, and mark doesn't know why, but his stomach flips. the way you say his name suddenly makes his cheeks go red, eyes widen, and lips part lightly. you shouldn't be affecting him like this, but you do, because it's you, you always do this to him. "yes i'm sure, if something was going on with me, i'd tell you".

of course, because the two of are best friends, you would never hide something serious from him, you know he can always help you, he will always help you.

"alright, i'm holding you to that".

you hum at his words, picking at your nails. "you better".

"THAT GUY IS CUTE" THE WORDS MAKE MARK'S HEAD shoot up, and the moment he glances at you, that uncomfortable feeling comes to his stomach. you aren't looking at him, making mark assume that you weren't saying the words to him, but to yourself. like you meant to say them in your head but ended up muttering them out loud. mark's eyebrows immediately furrow, trying to figure out what guy you're talking about. when he looks in the direction you're looking, he notices the guy your referring to. he narrows his eyes at his figure, and while he can agree, the guy is what he would consider conventionally attractive, he has no idea why you're calling him cute in the first place. "which guy?"

you deadpan at him, lightly smacking his arm. "the guy right there mark, the one wearing the white stripes shirt".

mark blinks, rubbing the place in his arm where you hit him. he doesn't know why he feels so weird, this has never happened to him before, you talk about cute guys all the time, this shouldn't be shocking to him at all.

but for some reason, the guy is really starting to piss him off, just even staring at him is irritating mark. the guy isn't that hot, he isn't even that attractive, his hair is messy, mark thinks that's gross.

"yeah yeah, he looks okay".

"okay?" you stare at mark like he just personally offended you with that statement, and you get furrowed eyebrows as a response. "he's gorgeous! a ten out of ten guy!"

"i mean— i guess he's kinda hot?" mark says those words in that questioning tone he always uses when you show him guys you might be into, he never gets your taste in men, because they're all either crazy, or they all look they just crawled out of a ditch. call him shallow or whatever, but he can't tell why a guy like you likes guys like that, you deserve someone more.. fitting.

someone like him preferably.

when his mind whispers the thought to him, mark struggles to jump from his chair. now why would he even think that? why couldn't he suppress that thought? why does he think he could be the perfect fit for you? it's not like he likes you or anything, so why did he even conjure up that thought?

"you have a horrible taste in men" you respond, but you don't even try to look at mark (which upsets him much more than he wants to admit), your attention is focused on the quote unquote, cute guy across from you, who seems to catch your eye, because you loudly gasp, hitting mark in the arm again. "did you see that!? he looked at me!"

no mark did not see that, he was much too focused on trying to calm down his flipping stomach. he hates that he feels like this, it's always with you isn't it? you don't pick up on how uncomfortable he is, though, because you're too busy freaking out over a "cute" boy glancing over at you.

"so what? you're overreacting".

mark realizes how harsh his words must've been when he sees your face fall immediately at his irritated tone. you finally look over at him, eyebrows furrowed together, and mark feels like he just committed the worst of crimes. there's an awkward silence that spreads between you two for a moment, but if you were upset, which you clearly looked like you were, you didn't say anything, you just shook your head and let out a snicker. "okay, fuck you, i'm freaking out because a cute guy just looked at me and—"

"that same cute guy whose checking you out?"

"HES WHAT!?"

your screech is enough to make mark almost fall out of his seat, he says those words with distaste, but you don't catch his tone, fortunate for him. you begin slapping his arm like crazy, excited out of your mind over this random guy staring at you. the idea annoys mark much more than it should, because why are you focusing on him so much? he isn't even that good looking, he hates it.

"oh my god! oh my god, mark! can you believe this? i might actually have some potential for an important romantic connection this summer!"

mark raises an eyebrow at the comment. "is that all you cared about when deciding to come on vacation with me?"

you look oddly offended at the inquiry, clearly weirded out by mark's sudden change in attitude. you tilt your head, mind immediately swaying away from the guy you'd been rambling about. "no! hey what's with you?"

oh no.

"what do you mean? i'm fine".

"no, you're using that tone with me".

mark curses you for knowing him so well, he knows exactly what you're talking about, his certain tone of irritation is one you'd grown accustomed to when you were children, as mark would use it all the time when he got especially annoyed by your antics. still, he gives a chuckle of disbelief. "what is that tone?"

you pause for a moment, thinking about your words, but then you straighten in your seat, lightly scoffing. "that tone of irritation you use when your annoyed by me, what? you hate your not the only guy who has my attention?"

mark prepares another snappy response to that, but he can't do that because you lean closer as you say those words, a smug grin playing on your lips as you do so. mark allows for himself to get engrossed in the sight of you close up. he then narrows his eyes, trying his best to act like he's unaffected by your stare. "no, oh my god get over yourself!"

mark is quick to push you away, stubbornly crossing his arms as he hopes you don't notice how pathetic those words sounded. you snicker, clearly feeling victorious as you were able to get a shout out of him. mark would punch you if he wasn't so distracted by your pretty laughter.

"uh huh, sure, you dream of me".

"you're so annoying, if you think the guy's so cute just go talk to him".

mark regrets saying that.

why did i say that? why the fuck did i say that?

he doesn't want you to go talk to him, why would he even bring that up? he sees the expression on your face change, and mark immediately knows he messed up because you seem to be very on board with that idea. you look back over at the guy you'd been staring at prior, a smile coming to your face as you catch him looking back at you, watching the whole thing transpire just makes mark stomach flip uncomfortably.

"fine then, you told me to do it myself".

mark wishes he hadn't.

"good luck" he croaks out, trying his best to steady his voice as you blatantly ignore him to continue staring at the guy you're seemingly so infatuated with.

mark wants to throw up.

MARK TRULY UNDERESTIMATES HOW MUCH CAN happen in a week. life has always surprised him, strange things constantly transpire that he can't exactly explain no matter how much he tries. he also made the mistake of underestimating just how much you were into this "cute guy" (mark learned his name is kunwoo, a name he feels uneasy about), because after he stupidly told you to go over and talk to the guy you had been making eyes at, you two hit it off, a fact that made mark want to claw his own eyes out, to his very own confusion. he can't figure out why he's feeling so.. weird? it's not like he hasn't watched you hit it off with several guys during previous summer outings, or just in general, so why is it different now? it shouldn't be different now, nothing should be different.

but it is different now, for some unknown reason that mark can't think of no matter how much he tries to conjure it up in his mind, he doesn't like the guy you've now found yourself parading around. even with how into him you seem, mark can't help but gives his best tight lipped smile every time you bring him up.

mark won't tell you anything, he doesn't want to upset you, you genuinely seem so happy talking to him, who is he to tell you to not like a guy that he feels weird about? you're an adult, you can make your own decisions, he can't make you do anything you don't want to.

so what if mark has bad vibes about this guy your into? he's not going to tell you that or anything. he knows better than to spoil your fun, you deserve to have fun after your train wreck of a school year.

he doesn't want to be a bad friend.

"y/n? where are we going exactly?"

the minute the clock struck 12 (in the afternoon, mark has to clarify), you told him to get up because you were going to take him out. "out, mark, i told you this thousands of times already".

mark's eyebrows furrow, he has no idea why you would just drag him out of the beach house for no apparent reason. hand intertwined with his, merely muttering something about going out.

"so abruptly?" he inquires, your hand squeezing against his, lurching him closer towards you with a small tug.

"yes, take it as my apology for leaving you in the dust for all these days".

mark pauses at your words, they take him by surprise. it's not that he expected you to not notice he was down, you usually notice something's off before mark himself does, but he assumed you'd be so blinded by love that how he feels would be the furthest thing from your mind.

but who is mark kidding? you know him like the back of his hand. if he was upset, even if you were miles away, you'd be able to sense it. no matter how many men you attempt to court and date, none of them could really get you to forget about him.

your hand against his is soft, your tugs are nothing short of playful, and your smile is hidden, but it's there. "won't kunwoo be pissed?"

you narrow your eyes, face twisting into a puzzled expression. the look you give mark makes his stomach drop, but you don't pick up on that, because your focused on the mention of your newest boy toy. "why would he be?"

mark pauses, throat going dry as he feels your thumb grace his palm. "i don't know, he doesn't really seem to like me.."

your eyebrows furrow, then you giggle. "are you kidding? everyone likes you".

the words make mark pause, and he stares at you as if you healed all of his injuries with just your voice. maybe you couldn't see what he saw, but it was such a genuine response that he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "i mean i guess you do have a point about that.."

mark looks down at the cemented ground, and you snort, nudging him with your shoulder.

"don't think about stuff like that, i have a date tonight anyway".

a date. mark's jaw almost clenches. that's terrific! he couldn't be anymore happier for you! his eye isn't twitching because he's pissed! it's not!

"oh" he croaks, suddenly feeling the need to squeeze your hand. if you suddenly notice his heightened emotions, you don't say anything. "a date, that's nice".

"mhm" you merely hum, lips pressed together as you turn around and again begin walking with mark by your side, hand in hand.

"where are you going?"

you scoff, playfully rolling your eyes. "enough about the date mark, it's just us now, let's focus on that okay?"

see? this is why mark lee doesn't get you.

you can't say things like that then just expect him to be fine. you can't stare at him like he's your entire world and not except for him to think you harbor something romantic for him. you can't just do all of that and just expect for mark to be okay.

because he isn't, and it's all because of your soggy looks, your pretty voice, your pretty smile. you make mark feel things he shouldn't feel for someone whose just his 'best friend'.

he looks down at your intertwined fingers, listening to your silent humming as you swing your laced hands back and forth. "alright, i can get behind that".

you snap out of your little zoning out session, your lips turning up at the reply. "good, now make me some guesses".

"what?"

"where do you think i'm taking you?"

mark again pauses, a soft breeze rushing past you two as the crashing ocean waves sound in your ears. "to some forest to murder me?"

you scoff, you'd give another roll of the eyes if not worried for seeming like a broken record. "no, stupid, if i wanted to murder you i would've done it ages ago".

mark responds with an incredulous gasp, tone full of feigned offense. "you would murder me? your best friend in the whole entire world with no pushback?"

"i don't know, guanheng seems adamant on stealing that spot.."

mark again gasps, but this time there's a little more genuine emotion there, floored at the idea of you replacing him. "hendery? really?"

"don't say that! he's cooler than you!"

a frown tugs at mark's lips, and he nudges you much harder than he intends to. you grunt in just the slightest, childishly sticking out your tongue. "you get jealous sooooo easily".

"shut up".

and of course, you don't.

MARK CAN BARELY FALL ASLEEP THAT NIGHT KNOWING your going on a date. the look in your eye really communicated to him that you weren't about to change your mind, when you're determined, you're determined, and nothing will ever deter you. he could barely control the bile threatening to force it's way up his throat as he wished you good luck, but he found it much easier to contain his feeling of irritation when he saw your smile, your smile is so pretty, mark wanted to become kunwoo in that moment, because the idea of him being the one who got to see it for the rest of the night was just ridiculous. oh right. he had no idea how long you were going to be gone for, what if you come back and he's already asleep? what if you stayed over at his place? what if you—

never mind, he doesn't want to think about that.

when you say bye for the night, you unexpectedly step forward and wrap your arms around mark. it's not like hugs between you two are rare or anything, it was just a tad bit surprising how sudden the embrace was, but it was still special, mark almost wanted to fall asleep in your arms.

"how long are you gonna be gone for?" he asked after you pulled away, brushing your hair out of your face as you thought about it for a moment.

you shrugged, lips pressed into a thin line. "i'm not sure, but you can go to sleep without me around, can't you?"

mark's face went red at the question, he looked guilty as a charged. "yes i can, i was just wondering".

you hummed, grabbing the keys from the kitchen counter, not saying another word to him as you began whistling a tune he couldn't exactly recognize. "be safe".

you blinked at him, eyebrows furrowing. "i will, mark".

"swear?"

"i swear".

mark smiled at you, taking a needed breath of relief. "okay, i love you".

those words came out of nowhere, mark still has no idea why he decided to say them, why he decided that would be the correct thing to say at the moment, but you didn't question it, simply snickered. "i love you too".

mark will forever keep that response in his dearest heart.

he tossed and turned for a while, the large window behind his bed greeting him to the harrowing sounds of the ocean. he doesn't remember how long it took for him to slip off into his slumber, but all he remembers is that he was still thinking of your smile when sleep took him away.

he must've been having an insanely good dream, because he didn't even hear the resounding whispers.

"mark".

nothing.

"mark".

mark grunts, but doesn't open his eyes. his lips part slightly as he feels a small tap land on his shoulder, he still doesn't answer though.

"melk".

he looks so into dreamland, you feel bad for trying to lift him from consciousness. he stirs, settling into the feeling of your nail dragging over his arm.

"markle" you drawl. "markie, mark".

cracking one eye open, mark finally looks at you without turning his head. "is the house on fire?" his words are sloppy, syllables all shuffled around.

"not yet, but i can keep trying if you want".

mark's mouth twitches, suppressing a smile, and you let out a sigh. "what time is it?"

"just past one".

"hm" mark rolls over with his eyes barely open, bumping into your sitting figure. he again opens his eyes, scanning you up and down. you're still in the outfit you left in, your thin sweater simply removed, eyes a noticeably red color that has his brows furrowing. "how was the date?"

you chuckle, and it's bitter enough to have mark's eyes now fully open, his body barely rising from his laying position. "fucking terrible".

mark blinks, rubbing his eyes as the exhaustion now doesn't seem to matter. "woah, what's that supposed to mean?"

you roll your eyes, somehow successfully hiding your sniffles along the way. "the guys i'm into always turn out to be such.. bastards".

mark is going to kill kunwoo.

"what did he do?"

"nothing, that's the problem" you reply, but then you laugh again. what exactly do you laugh at? your circumstances? your situation? the fact that you hate everything?

mark pauses, letting his exhaustion fester elsewhere as he sits up. "y/n.."

"i don't know, i guess i shouldn't have expected much from some cute guy i met while on vacation" you humor yourself with those words, snickering at the look you receive from mark. "don't look at me like that, i'm okay".

"your eyes are red" mark snaps his head towards you, almost pointing at your face with his finger.

a frown tugs at your lips. of course he noticed that, you were hoping he wouldn't bring it up. "it's fine, i'm alright".

you give your best smile, and though it would usually make mark smile, his face instead drops at the display. "don't say that, please give me a real smile".

the reply gets a small laugh out of you, which also gets a genuine smile out of you. a few giggles slip from your lips at the words, which, in turn, make mark's lips turn up. "okay okay, you got me".

oh mark loves seeing you smile.

mark hums, reaching his hand over to tuck your hair behind your ear. "you have a pretty smile".

you pause, lips threatening to turn up again at the words. it's not like mark doesn't say this all the time, he always compliments your smile, it just feels.. different now. you snort. "says you".

"let me compliment you".

"you do that all the time already".

the two of you slip into silence, mark's fingers still busying themselves in your hair. you stare, and he stares back. his eyes glance everywhere, you've always been pretty up close, your features are striking, mark could stare at your face for hours, ticking off each of your little facial features in pure admiration.

the tension in the air could be cut with a knife, but you two stay silent, as if in a competition to see who'll break and speak first.

then, in an uncharacteristic move, you speak up.

"what do you want to do mark?"

"hm?" he glances down at your lips before his eyes quickly snap back up to stare into yours. he guesses that you're intently watching the movement of his eyes, something that mark probably would've noticed himself if it was you doing it.

"you want to do something".

mark sucks his teeth. "i want to kiss you".

the words fall from his lips much too quickly, and mark almost feels like a robot saying them, but he couldn't contain his honesty anymore. you raise an eyebrow, cheeks dusted red. "do you?"

your smiling again, and mark can't decipher what might be going through your head. he nods, suddenly rendered speechless. "..yeah, so much" his voice almost trails off into a whine, god how pathetic is that?

you hum, shoulders slumping. "what's stopping you?"

mark's mouth feels bitter, and his tooth sinks into his bottom lip. "kunwoo".

you snort, rolling your eyes as you scoot closer to mark, your hand graces his arm, and mark is quick to relax into the touch. "you shouldn't care about that".

your whisper festers into the air, and mark simply watches the movement of your lips.

then mark leans in, fulfilling his newfound itch of the night. he feels you smile against his lips, his hand moving up into your hair. he lets out a small sigh of relief, a sigh that makes you chuckle.

maybe mark had originally wanted to start slow, but then a switch seemed to have flipped. his fingers tangled in your hair, he can't get over how your lips feel. they're soft, plush, his frenzied presses driven by his pure eagerness, want, desire.

how did it take him this long? how couldn't he realize this is what he wanted the entire time?

you two break apart to breath, but it's only a few seconds before mark leans forward again to chase after yet another taste. his aggressiveness makes you go down, your back softly hitting his mattress as he crawls on top of you, a small giggle leaving your lips at his enthusiasm.

you scale your hand up his arm and under his shirt, drawing shapes into his shoulder as the tiniest hint of a whimper leaves your lips. his hands were still messing with your hair, maybe that's one of his favorite hobbies.

you chuckle again, bringing your hand up to hold his jaw, and you keep your hand there when you finally pull him off you. "oh, how long have you wanted to do that?"

mark can barely control his bated breaths, cheeks a rosy red and lips kissed the same color. "like forever— fuck i can't.. i can't believe i actually got to do that".

you hum, thumb caressing the underside of his jaw. "ah, you were thinking about it".

mark's words get stuck in his throat, and his blatantly red face must be embarrassing. he stares at you as if your the only person in the world, splayed under him in all your gorgeous glory. yes, he did think about this, it got to a little bit of an unhealthy rate. "i thought about way more than just kissing.."

"woah, slow your roll there, lee, what are you implying with that?"

mark stares down at you, cheeks red, hair messy as you begin humming. it makes no fucking sense. you look pretty doing everything, and he rolls his eyes. he responds to you with yet another kiss, except there's less of that prior aggression and more of gentleness.

mark tugs at your bottom lip, your hands slipping down towards his hips, keeping him in his place. he gives a slight squeak of response, obviously not expecting that.

"you gonna tell me what you were implying?"

"can't i just show you?"

"ooooo" you can't contain your snicker, your best friend is sort of pinning you down on his bed, the crashing ocean waves make a red color spread across your face. "i see, look at you being bold".

mark merely hums, diving down to begin sucking bruises into your neck. "you need to be quiet".

"and what are you gonna do if i don't? hm?"

mark sends you a look, the kind of look you expect to see in situations like this. "i won't tell you, i'll show you".

"you're doing much more telling than showing right now".

mark glares. "brat".

"you love it".

mark eyes the bruises he sucked into your skin, purple blemishes that stand out against your empty neck. "you're so pretty.. so pretty".

you are also about to lose your sanity if he doesn't do anything more, you're quite literally about to snap his neck if he doesn't just fucking do it. "as you say all the time.."

mark clicks his tongue, finger ghosting your collarbone. "it's deserved".

mark is going to make sure you hear everything he had to say tonight, he's going to show his appreciation for you through and through, he'll get his point across through any means.

maybe he'll figure out his feelings in the process, too.

"YOU KNOW, YOU KIND OF REMIND ME OF DONGHYUCK.." THE moment mark utters those words, you snap your head towards him, eyes narrowed and lips parted. he takes your reaction as a bad one, your judging look washing a weird sense of fear onto him. you can be strangely scary at times, and the look mark receives just strikes the weirdest amount of fear in him. "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" you ask, a hint of offense in your tone. you are clueless as to what he could possibly mean by that, and mark realizes those words seem pretty vague in hindsight. he stares at you, your messy hair, the same pajamas he changed you into after you two had finished your.. activity. you look adorable, mark can't help but giggle as he observes you, and you scrunch your nose at his actions.

"you two are kinda the same, like twins".

"twins?"

"yeah, you're both insanely annoying" mark says, walking past you and ignoring the other look you share with him. "and besides, you two are both my best friends, your bound to have some similarities, you guys even share some moles in the same place".

you trail behind mark, lips turning downward. "so you just.. usually make out with your best friends?" you ask, hands naturally trailing down towards his hips.

mark turns around just fast enough to meet your eyes, leaning back against the kitchen counter as your hands stay steady on his hips. he hums, staring at your lips. "no, it's just you".

"oh? am i the exception?"

"mhm" mark sees the way your eyes seemingly light up at the words, a small squeeze to his hips. you get giddy so easily, he has to resist the urge to giggle. "it's only you i have my eyes on".

your cheeks flare up, and you chuckle as you look down. you really like the sound of that. when you look back up, mark is quick to press his lips to yours. you squeak out of surprise, but your quick to melt into his touch.

mark's newfound obsession is kissing you, your lips are always so fucking soft. how much chapstick do you use? or are they just naturally like that? he'll have to kiss you more to find out (that's his new excuse).

"you're so enthusiastic, where was this energy when i flirted with you before?"

"that was different".

"was it?" you lean away when mark goes back in for another kiss, smiling at the way his face drops. he scrunches his nose, tongue poking against his inner cheek. "how different was it?"

mark sucks his teeth, hand coming up to the back of your neck to pull you closer. "see? you are annoying".

"you didn't answer my question~"

"can't i just kiss you as my answer?" he breathes against your lips, unsuccessfully fighting a smile.

you pretend to think about it, tilting your head to sell your bit. "you just want to kiss me more".

"is that so bad?"

you stare down your best friend, but then you sigh, you can't resist him. "no".

and that's all mark needs. he pulls you back down towards him, sighing in contentment as he feels the soft plush of your lips against his. you lose your composure rather quickly, pulling mark as close as he could get, as if you'd die if you weren't touching every single part of him.

small (but intelligible) whimpers spill from your lips, sounds that have mark wanting to giggle and kick his feet in joy. he is doing that to you? oh he feels so proud of himself.

mark lee might just be addicted to kissing you.

"okay okay enough, your kiss amount is up".

"what? hey!"

your hand slips from his, and mark blinks, absolutely dumbfounded. you smile, expression full of cheek as you watch mark's drop. "since when did we have kiss amounts?"

"since about two seconds ago!" you yell as you make your way over to your room, mark for being from where you left him desolate at the kitchen counter. "you lose control too quickly".

"as if you don't like that.."

mark crosses his arms over his chest, following you to your room to give you a piece of his mind. "but i love kissing you dude!"

you give a weird look. "you can't call me dude after we just made out!"

mark scoffs. "what do you want me to call you then? baby?"

you pause, a bright red color spreading across your cheeks. you also like the sound of that. for some reason, it feels so right. you can already hear the word 'baby' fresh on mark's lips, and in reference to you to?

it sounds pretty cute.

"yeah no i think i prefer dude.."

you don't notice how mark's face drops at those words, he knows they're feigned, but the fact that you felt the need to lie just makes his stomach hurt. that's nice y/n, that's fine, i can totally get behind that, my feelings for you aren't complicated at all!

mark hates his thoughts.

but he doesn't disclose any of them, he gives a fake smile and forces out a strained chuckle. "fine, dude, don't get mad with me again though".

you can't even fight your smile anymore, because it comes to full force when you face mark, who is busy staring at the marks he sucked into your neck. maybe those are too obvious, you'd have trouble trying to cover them.

you snap your fingers in front of mark's face. "hey, you alright?"

mark blinks, locking eyes with you. he thinks he's dreaming, did you two really get to this point? mark assumed he'd wallow in his own jealousy forever, never getting the opportunity to really feel these things around you. "yeah, sorry.."

"mhm" you press your lips into a thin line, and mark steps closer to bury his face into your shoulder, an action of affection that is now regular for you two. "no need to apologize, what's going on in your head?"

mark doesn't answer that, simply lets out a deep breath. "don't wanna talk about it".

"that's fine" you whisper, you can wait until he's ready to talk about it.

MARK'S EYES PRACTICALLY BURN BY THE TIME he can finally see again. he almost inhales a gallon of ocean water, he can still taste the salt of it on his tongue. how you managed to convince him to get into the ocean with all of his clothes still on? he has absolutely no idea, but it had no right being so fun as it was. he wipes his face as best he can with his hands, and he hears your titular laugh sounding close by, so loud that not even the rushing ocean water can keep it silent. he shivers, jumping when he feels your wet hand grace his shoulder. "i'm never doing that with you ever again" he scolds, unable to sound serious with the way his lips refuse to turn down. you giggle, quickly grabbing a towel for you two to share, wrapping it around both you and mark as you sit on the other towel you brought to the beach. "i'm sure i could convince you easily enough if i tried" you reply, resting your head onto mark's shoulder.

"that's only because i let you get away with things" mark responds, pressing closer to you, as close as he can get with the lack of space already between the two of you. you let out a sigh of contentment, feeling good in the current place you are.

it's always been comfortable like that with mark.

"keep telling yourself that".

"it's true" mark bites back, and you hum as you again let out a sigh. "you only get a pass because you're my best friend" he drags his finger down your arm, smiling as you relax into the touch.

"aww, is it not because i'm so cute?" your lips turn downward into a pout, and you lean into mark as you feign sadness at his previous words.

"nope" mark pushes you back with only his pointer finger, and you chuckle against his touch once again.

the beach wasn't your original destination, but it's much too difficult to avoid the beach, and by proxy, the ocean. mark didn't really want to swim, because you two weren't planning on going to the beach, but you were somehow able to convince him to get into the water, he has no idea how you even got that to happen, but you did, your striking smile is much too difficult to ignore.

you two spent so much time just messing around, acting like the idiots you were supposed to be when you originally decided to go on vacation together. yeah all the drinking, seagull chasing, and cooking attempts were fun, but just being idiots on beach? this is what going on vacation is about.

you couldn't have stifled so many of your giggles today, and mark, mark just made it so much better. you feel so much around mark, you don't know how you hid such feelings for so long. "you really are something.."

mark blinks, admiring your smile, he's cut off by a sudden rush of wind, which sends a shiver down both your spines. you snicker, grabbing his hand. "let's go back, yeah? it's getting cold now".

mark nods, wrapping his arm around your waist as you wrap your arm around his, the two of you laughing as you trip over your feet to make your way back to the beach house. "tomorrow, we need to check out that ice cream parlor".

mark gives you a look. "the one with the.. what is it? fucking amazing waffle cones?" he inquires, recalling jungwoo's words when he was telling you two about the place awhile ago.

you snort. "that one, yes".

mark simply gives a small smile, you think he looks especially cute with his wet hair. blue was really the move, you love it.

"you gonna pay?"

"woah! why do i have to pay?"

mark nudges you, almost rolling his eyes. "you made me deal with kunwoo for a whole week, that man did not like me".

"that's ridiculous".

the other look you receive from mark is full of the incredulity you except, mark looks at you as if you just punched him in the gut and spat on him as he doubled over. "ridiculous? you should've seen the way he stared at me, you would've thought i robbed his mom or something".

"it's ridiculous how he didn't like you".

mark scoffs, a cold shiver running down his spine as he thinks of his next response. "think it was pretty obvious why.."

it's a simple mutter, but you know what he means by those words. you hum, getting out the keys and unlocking the door, mark feels a sense of déjà vu as he lets you take him in, letting him rest half his body weight onto you.

you suck your teeth as you hear mark yawn. "don't get so sleepy, we still have to dry our hair".

mark hums, looking up at you.

and mark can't exactly grasp why it's so romantic. why the giggles are full of much more love, why the acts of affection mean so much more, why he doesn't want all the lingering touches to stop. he rolls his eyes at your complaints when he cleans the sand out of your hair, and he smiles softly at the sight.

you look mesmerized by everything mark does, your eyes tracking him and every single action he performed like he was the single most important being to ever grace the earth. your eyes held a love you had never once showcased for another human being before. it couldn't just be platonic.

you practically stay glued to his side the whole time, an act that isn't as surprising to mark, it's kind of your whole thing to become super affectionate so randomly. he just likes it more this time, maybe it's the way you fingers grace his waist that make him feel safer.

you giggle when mark changes into those cute pink pajamas you usually never see him wear, but he only gives you a dirty look, one which makes you stop talking in fear of pissing him off.

and that is how you end up here, listening to mark's heartbeat as he runs his fingers through your hair, his eyes closed, but him not yet being asleep. sharing beds have never been unusual to you two, it's just.. different now.

"i can still taste the ocean water, dude".

you chuckle, feeling the rise and fall of mark's chest. you are so comfortable here, a sense of warmth easily envelopes you with mark. nothing could ever compare to how you feel around him. "maybe you shouldn't have done that dive then, dude".

mark narrows his eyes at you, taking in the tone of sarcasm in your words. you lift from your place on mark's chest, leaning your elbow onto the bed, and your head against your hand. you use your free hand to take mark's and intertwine it with yours. you stare at him from your place above him, lips turning up by just staring at his face.

"you are so fucking cute".

mark rolls his eyes, a small smile showing on his face. "are you really saying that? look at you".

"don't try to flatter me".

"dude, have you met yourself?"

"don't call me dude, dude" you argue, eyes shining with feigned rage when you hear a correspondent giggle from mark.

"you said you prefer dude!"

"okay well— i lied! don't call me dude, you call random men on the sidewalk dude, not me".

"what do you want me to call you then?"

god you're frustrating.

"anything but dude".

mark sighs, watching the way your cheeks dust red at just having to disclose this information to mark with pure honesty. he stares at your intertwined fingers, leaning forward and pressing a kiss onto your knuckles. the act is much too simple, but it leaves a lasting impression.

"i hate you".

"okay dude".

you snap a glare in mark's direction, but you also can't hide your budding smile. he's just so hard to be mad at, he shouldn't be allowed to harbor such beauty while simply lying down. "fuck you".

"i'm sure you want to" mark teases, leaning his head against the pillow, his hair falling down prettily behind him.

you choose to not answer that, instead letting go of mark's hand to grab his jaw and pull him in. your first time being the one to initiate, and it's just as messy as mark expected for it to be.

you can taste the remains of mint toothpaste on mark's tongue, and there's a certain frenzy that puts you on, your hand sliding down to the middle of mark's chest, again feeling the beating of his heart. you allow for your hand to journey under his shirt, exploring the warmth of his bare skin.

"slow that hand down dude.."

"if you fucking call me that again—" you grit your teeth, an empty threat dancing on your tongue. mark doesn't try to move your hand, just lets you do your thing.

mark stares up at you, waiting for the eventual threat, but it doesn't come, that's strange for you. he smirks, and you glare as you catch it. "come on y/n, threaten me".

you suck your teeth, instead pulling a mark by shutting him up with a kiss. it's again messy, a clash of the teeth and a mini fight in between all the chaos.

give me your best shot, mark says, tugging your bottom lip to truly sell his words. of course you bite, not hard enough to draw blood, mark finds it funny how you hold back during this moment out of every other one.

your hand again ventures, seemingly having a mind of it's own. you fiddle with the buttons of his pajama shirt, caressing the soft fabric between your fingers. when you pull away for breath, you simply stare, an indecisive look in your eyes.

"can i?" you ask, simply dragging your finger across what's exposed of his neck.

mark presses his lips together, staring at you as if ppl you're the only person in the world. he then gives you a lazy smile, a hand carting through your hair. "you're sacrificing sleep for sex?"

you snicker. "but it's good sex".

"and how are you so sure?"

"just let me prove it to you" you sing, tapping a finger onto his cheek. "and besides, we could always sleep in.." mark closes his eyes, humming as he feels your other hand press onto his chest, it's such a strange feeling, but it's foreign in a nice way.

"what about the ice cream?" mark's question is breathy, but he still finds a way to give you that tormenting smile. how annoying.

"you can't possibly be thinking about ice cream while i'm on top of you in your bed right now" you quickly counter, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.

"i like ice cream, though".

"and me?"

mark opens his eyes, smile lazy and expression soft. "maybe you're just a little better than ice cream".

"a little?"

mark decides not to answer that one. "knock yourself out".

you roll your eyes at how he decided to grant you permission, but you chuckle anyway. "might knock you out after were done.."

"i'm looking forward to it".

you swear your going to wipe that smile off mark's face (that's a lie, you actually really enjoy seeing it).

"THE AMOUNT OF SPRINKLES ON THAT SHOULD BE illegal" the remark makes you choke around the tiny plastic spoon you tried to chuckle into. you purposefully bite down on the sprinkles to piss him off, lips turning up as you catch his eye twitch. it's so easy to rile him up, annoying him really is one of your best qualities. "how do not like sprinkles?" you ask, looking at him incredulously. mark takes a huge bite of the waffle cone in his hand, ignoring your question and instead replying with an interested hum. "these are fucking amazing waffle cones.." he mutters, and you scoff, shoving his shoulder. he gives a satisfied giggle at your irritation, your face dropping immediately when you see how joyful he seems. "what?" he asks, feigning idiocy as you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes. he can't even stifle his laughter anymore, barely containing his chuckles behind his hand.

"i fucking hate you".

mark seems pleased by your annoyance, grimacing as you eat yet another scoop of those sprinkles. "okay you sprinkle enjoyer, they're too sweet anyway".

"but i like sweet things".

"yeah cause you're basically a toddler" your lips turn down at the words, and mark runs a hand through your hair, suddenly very interested in the soft strands. "don't get mad, i'm just saying".

you scoff, looking down at your chocolate ice cream, your sprinkles are running out anyway. "i am mad, and i'm going to go get more sprinkles" you grumble, but your smiling as you walk off to go ask the person at the counter if you can add more sprinkles to your ice cream.

mark again laughs when he remembers the sight of your irritated face, you always look so cute when you're mad. he can practically hear the scowls from you when you realize he's been laughing.

he just can't help it.

"oh, you".

mark glances up, letting go of his spoon and letting out a strained chuckle. the one person he did not want to see. fucking kunwoo of all people.

"hi" mark tries his best to be civil, but all kunwoo does is scoff.

"cut the bullshit, what? do you think you can just influence y/n's actions now?"

mark scoffs, so much for being civil, all he wants to do is get more waffle cones, but of course someone has to ruin his fucking day, and of course it has to be the guy he was wrongly jealous of. "i have no idea what you're talking about".

"y/n isn't texting me back, and i know you have something to do with it".

mark almost rolls his eyes. "i don't influence y/n's decisions, if he isn't talking to you, than he's probably doing it on his own accord".

kunwoo laughs. what's so funny? mark inquires in his head, his ice cream is beginning to melt. "do you really expect me to believe that? you've always been such a jealous prick—"

"see? told you i got more sprinkles" you pause when your eyes gaze upon the scene before you. "oh! hi.. kunwoo" you grit your teeth, eye twitching in the slightest, mark almost laughs at the sight.

"oh you've gotta be kidding me, you two? give me a fucking break".

"oh please, don't start".

"i will, actually! you never seem to stop y/n, how long until you go off to the next guy—"

"you can't just say that.." you place a hand on mark's shoulder, making him go quiet.

"are you still angry with me for yelling at you?" you question, tone suddenly growing much more irritated. "sorry i don't enjoy when people try to force themselves onto me".

kunwoo scoffs, and mark has to bite his tongue, he might say something he isn't proud of. "for the last time, it was a joke, he always acts like that—"

"well then maybe you can see why i don't want to talk to you!"

mark sighs, clearing his throat. "anyway, i don't exactly appreciate the company of someone like you.. and my ice cream is now melting, maybe sort things out with your.. friend first".

and then mark is being dragged back into the ice cream parlor, his hand being tugged by yours. you sigh as you make it inside, peaking to make sure kunwoo didn't follow you in. "bastard".

mark blinks, noticing the way your shoulders slump. "y/n.. are you okay?"

you suck your teeth, immediately displaying a fake smile. "of course i am, kunwoo just sucks, he doesn't deserve my time".

mark scoffs. "if you really think i'm gonna believe that, you must be crazy".

you knew mark wouldn't believe that in the slightest. you drop your smile and simply hum, taking in a deep breath. "i just don't want to think about what he said, it'll take away too much of my attention and then i'm gonna start taking it personally which will never get us anywhere!"

mark is about to open his mouth again, but you cut him off. "can we get more ice cream now? ours has become like.. liquid by now".

"get as much as you please" mark shrugs. "i don't really want anymore".

you glance at him, narrowing your eyes. "come on, get as much as you want, i'm paying!"

mark can barely stop his lips from turning up, the interaction with kunwoo is still rubbing him the wrong way, but he guesses he can let it go for now. "your sprinkles look sad, good for them".

the comment gets a flurry of giggles out of you, you get nothing but absolute amusement from those words. "what is it with you and sprinkles? why do you hate them?"

"they're too sweet".

"oh, so you hate me?" you rebut, scooping chocolate ice cream into your cup and laughing at something in your head. "sprinkles are my pride and joy".

"i'm not your pride and joy?"

"you don't compare to sprinkles".

mark gasps, sticking his tongue out at you. now he's the one that's irritated, how funny. "i can't believe i'm losing to sprinkles, i feel insulted".

"it's the truth, sorry".

mark frowns, you know he isn't genuinely offended by that, because he keeps fighting his life whenever he glances over at you. "see? i hate sprinkles".

you lick your spoon again, nudging mark with your shoulder. "stop pouting, can you forgive me?"

you gently take his jaw and turn him towards you, a red color spread across mark's cheeks as he stares you in the eye. he avoids your gaze, cheeks still dusted red. "i guess so.."

you smile.

"just don't compare me to sprinkles again, i mean much more than they do".

"okay mark, i'll make sure not to do that next time".

and maybe mark smiles much too widely at that.

MARK REALLY LOST TRACK OF TIME AFTER YOUR GUYS' first kiss, because he feels like he blinked and it's suddenly his birthday. the best thing about summer birthdays is that he can party to his heart's content, drink till he passes out and wakes up with a terrible hangover. sometimes he forgets birthdays exist, because it feels like his birthday takes ages to come around with the amount of stuff he's busy doing during the school year. you neglected to mention what you'd be doing for his birthday, but you usually do that every year, you love to simply announce surprises out of the blue, you do that with all of your friends. mark has always thought he's good at reading you, but reading you as the second of august steadily approaches has become much more difficult.

mark already knew everyone was coming, he had mentioned it in passing way before you two decided to go on vacation, but he still finds himself startled when the doorbell rings and there are two giants standing on the doorstep (jaehyun's look of offense at being called 'giant' really brightened his mood).

"y/nie!" jungwoo surges through the front door and practically lifted you from the floor when he wrapped you in a tightening hug. "oh i thought mark would've killed you by now".

"trust me i tried".

your face falls at the words from mark, jungwoo attacking your cheeks with kisses. "he loves me too much to actually kill me".

"why are you lying?"

"he's probably telling the truth! knowing you anyway.."

mark's jaw drops, it's always donghyuck going after him isn't it? he crosses his arms, grimacing. "you can't insult me, it's my birthday".

"it's not insulting if it's true!"

mark again frowns, but then he snaps his fingers as soon as you're released from jungwoo's grip and stumble towards donghyuck. "johnny, dude, don't they look like twins?"

johnny blinks, narrowing his eyes. "woah! no they kinda do!"

"see!?"

jaehyun tilts his head. "i see two donghyuck's.."

you and donghyuck exchange glances, both displaying the same emotions on your face. "i do not like this comparison, hyuck is not that great—"

"hey fuck you!"

"no fuck you actually! how do you think i'm anything like him—"

"okay okay, calm down" mark steps in between you two, but his touches linger on you more than they do on donghyuck. "not on my birthday, please".

you don't say anything more, simply snicker and look away from mark. donghyuck stares at you two strangely, but he doesn't comment on what he sees. "i'm going to be singing for you, though!"

"oh god not again".

you snort, and donghyuck frowns. "i will pierce your eardrums—"

"okay! let's not threaten anyone! mark is twenty four! let us celebrate!"

mark couldn't have heard too many piercing shouts that day, which quickly turned into night. by the time the clock strikes eight, jaehyun is passed out on the couch, but mark can't figure out if it was the alcohol or simply the exhaustion from being endlessly dragged around by everyone.

where the fuck did all the booze come from? mark has no idea, but he can't push down the sudden anxiety he feels. it's nice to be around everyone again, though he would never admit it, he missed renjun and donghyuck's annoying fights, missed jungwoo's drunk escapades, missed the annoying complaints from yangyang, yes he missed his friends.

but mark suddenly has a realization when he doesn't see you around. that's strange. you should be on your fifth cup of shitty alcohol by now. it isn't time for presents yet, but he still misses your presence anyway.

it's hard to not miss the person you've been spending pretty much all of the past month with.

"xiaojun, have you seen y/n?"

dejun blinks, patting yangyang's back, the younger sobs about something mark can't exactly get. "uh.. no, sorry".

mark smiles. "it's fine i.. whatever thanks".

"you really haven't told him yet?" dejun raises an eyebrow, and mark immediately gets what he means, face going bright red.

"i'm working on it okay? i just.. you know what, thank you dejun".

dejun giggles, simply muttering a small 'your welcome' and waving his hand forward.

mark sucks his teeth, he avoided drinking in case no one sober was left, but the only thing he's focused on is making sure you're alive. you're much too impulsive, maybe you'll fall off the roof or something without anyone knowing, or maybe a bunch of aliens are going to come abduct you and no one will be there to witness it.

mark drags his feet everywhere, trying to catch sight of you, but you seemed to have disappeared. he almost calls out your name, but he stops himself in fear of sounding like an idiot drowned in desperation.

"there you are" make startles, but relaxes the moment he catches sight of you. your eyes light up when you see mark, and you extend your hand forward, offering it for mark to take. he sighs in relief, intertwining it with yours.

"you aren't drunk".

you chuckle, caressing the soft of his skin. "is that surprising to you?"

"..kinda".

you roll your eyes. "okay fuck you, i just don't feel like it today".

mark stares at you for a moment, then tightens his grip on your hands and tugs you forward, taking you away from the loud music of the hallway. "woah, where are we going?"

"somewhere.."

you don't get the meaning of that, which makes your nose scrunch. "slow down, do you not want to be around other people?"

"we just.. can we talk?"

mark leads you outside, anxiously picking at his own skin as he awaits your response. he doesn't turn around to see your smile, but you give him a squeeze of the hand. "of course, that's what i'm here for".

you don't often go on the balcony, because you two spent so much of your vacation out doing random things, but it's a good place for privacy when the rest of the house has everyone else in it.

"you know.. um— i'm confused, on what we are? i don't want to just be.. i don't know your kiss buddy? i want to be more than that and i know you sometimes dislike labels but i've literally been in love with you like— forever and oh my god it pains me to think about it because then i think you don't feel the same way so i.. overthink everything".

you blink, and mark covers his face with his hands to avoid your eyes. you laugh, looking down at the rushing ocean, it appears beautiful from this view. "hey, look at me please".

mark groans. "don't say please".

"mark".

mark doesn't fully remove his hands from his face, but he lowers his hands in order to see you. "what makes you think i don't feel the same way?"

mark sighs. "i know you".

you nudge him, that same pretty smile tugging at your lips. "not well enough, i thought it was obvious?"

mark bites into his inner cheek, he feels just a bit stupid right now. "i don't really get how you think these days".

you look down at where your hands stay laced together, and you abruptly tug him forward, eliciting a yelp from mark. "i'm just as in love with you as you are with me".

"tell me you're not joking".

"mark".

"sorry" he's quick to squeak. "i'm just trying to grasp this situation but i really can't because.."

mark pauses, letting out a well needed breath. "because?"

"you love me too" mark whispers, as if he couldn't believe such a thing could be possible. you laugh, so amused that you'd probably fall over from how hard you were laughing.

"mark, was that confession last week not an indication?"

"well some people just randomly do that during sex i didn't really think about it like that! i just thought you were being.. you".

you roll your eyes. "my god i love you".

mark pauses, those words striking him in a way only your words can. "say it again".

your lips turn up, tease on the tip of your tongue, but you giggle softly and take his other hand in yours. you lean closer, eyes laser focusing on the curves of mark's own. "i love you, mark, so much".

mark is about to jump off the balcony in pure joy. "you should kiss me".

you feign confusion, tilting your head. "should i?"

"yeah, it's my birthday, don't withhold something like this from me".

you hum, rolling your eyes at the words. how funny, you guessed he was going to say that. you feel his hands squeeze against yours, and you simply snicker. mark can't stare at you without exponentially heating up, but you don't say anything, just sigh.

mark lets go of one of your hands to gently take your jaw and press his lips to yours. your lips are always so soft, and they still taste like cherries. mark isn't the biggest fan of cherries, but he can't get over the taste when it's on your lips.

"you're lips are always so soft" mark chuckles against you. "you stack up on chapstick?"

"no mark i literally apply it regularly".

mark snorts.

"hey, ask me".

"what?"

"ask me out, stupid".

mark rolls his eyes. "will you be my boyfriend, y/n?"

you pretend to think about it, whistling as your thoughts run in circles around your brain. "sure, i guess!"

mark punches you in the shoulder, making you squeak and jump back, avoiding his touch. "you guess? i'm breaking up with you".

"we've been dating for two seconds! take me back, please!" you wrap your arms around mark and rest your head against his back, lips turned downward in feigned sadness.

mark can't even stifle his laughs anymore. "fine, but only because it's you".

you giggle in joy, taking mark's hands and turning him around. "it's probably time for gifts now, come on, before jungwoo starts thinking the worst".

"the worst?"

"he probably thinks we're fucking up here or something".

mark scrunches his nose, not even making a noise when you lurch him forward with a tug of his hand. "how would that be bad?"

"he'd probably like.. scream and then make a big show out of it".

mark stares at you incredulously, and you stop to ruffle his hair. "you're going to like my gift the best".

"oh? how are you so sure about that?"

"i know you".

mark doesn't respond to that one, because he can't deny the fact that you do.

THE FINAL DAYS OF AUGUST STEADILY APPROACH, AND with that also comes the end of your summer vacation. mark's birthday was as enjoyable as it was magical, maybe birthday love confessions are tacky to some people, but mark giggled over it for so long that by the time he stopped giggling over it, almost three weeks had passed. the weeks after mark's birthday were filled with idiotic love adventures that you can only describe as purely out of this world. kissing in the ocean is one thing, and drunkenly sobbing over stray cats is most definitely another. mark writes infinitely obscure sentences into that journal of his, and the bed sharing becomes much more regular. it only started growing normal after sex started growing a little normal, you two couldn't even make excuses for falling asleep in each other's arms anymore.

you two don't even really sleep most nights though, you spend them walking the beach and daring each other to jump into the ocean, knowing full well it's too cold to be doing that.

there isn't much of a change, even with the boyfriend titles being bestowed upon you two. you still go on dates, attempt to cook (mark really needs to work on that), belt exo songs at midnight, and dance in the living room.

wine nights and journaling make themselves regular guests in your daily routine, paired with you chiding mark to take care of himself. the romantic connotations may have been hidden before, but they're bright as day now with how unashamedly mark stares at your lips while you literally do anything.

the pure domesticity of the whole thing makes you feel warm, mark relays his true thoughts to you in the cool whispers of the night, you remind him it's important to talk about how he feels, and you always manage to coax him into it with tickles to his stomach, practically making him die with laughter so he gives into your incessant demands.

it gets to the point where you almost run out of things to do, spending every waking moment together just makes the act of leaning against each other enough to pass time. you don't even have to talk to have a good time with mark, just being around him is fine.

the door to your room swings open, and mark steps in, falling directly on top of you, no words said. you sigh, turning off your phone. "well hello to you too, baby".

mark almost freezes, he doesn't know how long it'll take for him to get used to being called that, but he really likes the sound of it. "y/n.."

"yes?" mark rests his head onto your chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat, smiling as he feels your hand beginning to go up and down his back, the ministrations bringing him a feeling of solace.

"my mom called" he begins, his words merely a low mutter. "i told her about us and.. well, i was thinking we could go to vancouver this coming winter break?"

you snicker. "you planned ahead?"

"i always plan ahead, and besides, my mom misses you! you aren't about to deny an opportunity to see my mom are you?"

you roll your eyes. "no mark, i love your mom she's an angel, i'm just a bit surprised".

mark takes your hand, intertwining your fingers. "it'll be a good trip, like.. the nostalgia and stuff? that's where we met!"

he's so excited about it, his pure giddiness makes a smile form on your lips. "i love the idea of that, mark, and i also miss your mom too".

mark narrows his eyes. "okay well now you're steering off track".

"seeing your mom is like a plus one! what do you mean steering off track?"

mark frowns, rolling off you and landing right beside you on your mattress, a small thumb accompanying his movement. the faint sound of the ocean rushing begs a smile out of you. "can't believe summer vacation is over, i've become attached to this place".

mark slings an arm over your waist, and he tucks his face into your neck, pressing a small kiss to the skin. "you like living by the beach?"

"yes! i'll miss my stupid room with the huge window in front of the water!"

you snort. "you baby".

mark turns over, resting his arms onto your chest and staring down at you, biting his bottom lip. "you look so.. easy like this".

"is that how you tell me you want a kiss?"

mark presses his lips together. more or less is his silent answer, and he leans forward to capture your lips, fingers caressing the skin of your collarbone. "no more kissing while swimming, huh?"

"we could always just hijack chenle's pool".

mark stares at you, and then you both burst into laughter. "chenle would never!"

"it's funny to think about, though".

mark clicks his tongue, taking your bottom lip in between his teeth. he's never going to get tired of this, it's insane how addicting your lips are, they fit perfectly with his, as if you two were molded for each other.

there's only a few seconds of pulling away for air before he's on you again, and your hand slides up his shirt, feeling the bare skin of his side. he gives a breathy chuckle against your lips, as if amused, but he's gotten used to your tricks by now.

"you are so unbelievable" he remarks, nipping at your jaw then slowly starting down your neck, taking the skin between his teeth and giggling as he feels you suddenly grip his hip.

you scrunch your nose, successfully hiding your whimpers by holding in your breaths instead. "mark, we have to go watch the sunset".

your voice is raspy, wrecked from the assault on your neck. you feel mark's lips turn up on your skin, his resounding chuckle sending vibrations through your body. "you just remembered that.."

"yep".

mark frowns, pretending to think it over. "sunset doesn't matter right now".

you feign shock at the words, widening your eyes. "so you're just disregarding our evening plans now?" you inquire, hissing when he again latches himself onto your neck, god he really does like doing that.

"this is better, trust me" he whispers, and you close your eyes, a small sigh escaping your lips as you bask in the feelings mark gives you.

"you totally sound untrustworthy when you say that".

mark again laughs, his nail scratching at your thin shirt. "just.. let me do this for you, okay?"

you pause, finally shrugging as mark smiles, it's just a little addicting, his smile. he then leans down and kisses you again, unable to contain his excitement when he got yet another taste of that cherry chapstick.

ocean waves crash against each other faintly outside your window, but all you can think about are mark's lips on yours.

#mark lee #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #mark nct #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark lee drabbles #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #mark lee x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

170 notes · View notes