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4linos · 3 days ago

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ghosts of the past

hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

synopsis/request: the more hyunjin compares you to his ex, the more you begin to lose yourself in the relationship. after an emotional confrontation, hyunjin is left to reflect on his past and his feelings for you.

wc: 2273

The tension between you and Hyunjin had been building for weeks, making it difficult to ignore. It was hard to understand at first. Just small changes; he was more easily distracted, distant when you tried talking to him, and his smile didn't reach his eyes like it once did. What stung the most were his silent remarks. Every now and then, he'd casually mention his ex-girlfriend, Nabi, and you'd brush it off, thinking yourself it was just a harmless slip of the tongue, a hint of nostalgia that wasn't supposed to hurt.

You knew about Nabi. You'd met her once before things between you and Hyunjin became serious. She was sweet and smart, and it seemed that they had parted ways peacefully. There was no animosity. They had been friends for a long time before they started dating, and even after their breakup, they had maintained a respectful, even friendly relationship. You can understand that friendships from previous relationships weren't forgotten quickly. But it wasn't only her presence in the background that bothered you. It was the constant, unintentional comparisons Hyunjin made, as if everything he said or did was subconsciously weighed against what Nabi had done in the past.

The first few times it happened, you convinced yourself it was only a throwaway comment, a moment of exasperation that didn't mean much. But as the weeks passed, you saw a pattern: anytime Hyunjin was upset with whatever you did, whether it was how long you took to get dressed or how you handled a situation, he'd always make a remark about how "Nabi never did that" or "Nabi would've understood."

And it stung. Every time it gnawed at your insides, you stayed quiet. You didn't want to seem insecure or petty. Maybe he didn't really mean it. Maybe it was all in your head.

But today, as you stood in front of the mirror, checking your reflection before heading out to your friend’s birthday dinner, something inside you snapped. You had tried to shake off the feeling of being second place, tried to brush it aside as just your own insecurity. But today? Today, you were done pretending you didn’t feel like you were suffocating under the weight of his words.

You could hear him from the other room, pacing in frustration. “I don’t know why it takes you so long to get ready. Nabi never took this long. It’s just a dinner. Seriously, we’re gonna be late.”

His voice floated through the open door, and even though you tried to focus on your outfit, trying to keep calm, the words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stared at your reflection, trying to control the emotions rising in your chest, but they refused to be contained any longer.

With a sharp inhale, you turned around and walked toward the living room, your heart beating loudly in your chest. Hyunjin didn’t see you at first, his back turned as he stared at his phone. But you didn’t need to be subtle anymore. This needed to be said, once and for all.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Your voice was low, almost too calm. It felt unnatural, like you were forcing the words to come out.

Hyunjin turned around, surprise flashing across his face. He hadn’t expected you to confront him. He opened his mouth, but you cut him off before he could say anything.

"Every time, Hyunjin. Every time we argue, you bring up Nabi. And I get it. You two are close. I'm fine with that. But what am I supposed to do with the way you talk about her as if she were a gold standard?" Your voice was trembling now, despite your attempts to keep it firm.

He grimaced, obviously not understanding where you were coming from. "What are you talking about? I'm just frustrated by how long you take. That’s all. I didn't mean to—"

"You didn't mean to?" You scoffed and shook your head. "Hyunjin, how many times? How many times have you compared me to her without even thinking about it? Do you even realize what you’re doing to me?”

He looked taken aback now, guilt creeping into his expression. He took a step toward you, but you held your ground. You couldn’t let him think it was just a misunderstanding anymore.

“You keep comparing me to Nabi. And I’m just supposed to sit here, pretend it’s fine, like I’m not constantly feeling like I’m falling short? Like I’m not constantly second best?” Your voice cracked, and you couldn’t hold back the emotion that spilled out. “You can’t even admit it, can you? That maybe… maybe you still have feelings for her. That maybe you’re just holding onto me because it’s easier than letting go. Because you still have her in your heart.”

The silence that followed was overwhelming. Hyunjin stood still, frozen. He looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came. There was a strong sense of guilt between you. You could see it on his face, his eyes wide, as if everything you said had suddenly broken through a barrier he hadn't even knew existed.

"Well?" you urged, barely maintaining your composure. "If you still have feelings for Nabi, go back to her. If you still miss her, I won't stand in your way. But I'm not going to keep pretending that this us is enough for you when it's obvious that it isn't."

Hyunjin flinched like you’d slapped him, his expression full of regret and confusion. “No, I—I don’t want that. I never meant to make you feel that way. It’s just... I don’t know why I’ve been doing this.”

“You don’t know?” you repeated bitterly, your voice trembling. “You’ve been doing it for weeks, Hyunjin. And I’ve just been letting it slide, because I thought I could handle it. But I can’t. I’m not gonna sit here and watch you live in some fantasy where I’m just a replacement for someone who was ‘better.’”

His face softened, the apology in his eyes so clear, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hear it. Not right now. Not after everything that had been building up between you two, all the things you’d buried deep down to protect the relationship.

“Don’t follow me,” you said quietly, your throat tight. You turned away from him, grabbing your jacket and bag, the weight of your emotions suddenly too heavy to bear. “I’m going to the dinner. I’m going alone. I need to be alone.”

You didn't wait for him to respond. The words were out now, and you could feel the distance between you two growing with each second. You couldn't pretend anymore. You couldn't keep shrinking into his shadow, wondering where you stood in his heart.

You approached the door, the cold evening air welcoming you as you opened it. You didn't look back. Not this time.

"Don't follow me," you repeated one more time, your voice quiet but assertive. "I need to be alone."

As the door closed behind you, the weight of the unspoken things, the things you had held in for so long, hung in the air, and you walked away, uncertain of what the future held but certain that you couldn’t stay where you were anymore.

After you went, the night was uncomfortably quiet. Hyunjin felt each minute last longer than the last, the silence in the apartment bearing down on him, making him feel smaller and more helpless by the second. He was mindful of your need for space. You'd made it obvious, and he didn't want to do what he usually did: jump in to fix things right away.

He felt that the pain couldn't be soothed by words alone. But damn, he hated the sense of knowing he was to blame, as well as the thought that you were most likely out there alone, bearing all of that weight.

He spent most of the evening sitting on the couch, restless, repeating everything in his mind. The way your voice cracked as you approached him. That look in your eyes as you told him you weren't enough. He felt stupid; how could he have been so blind? How could he have allowed his frustration to manifest itself in such an unfair way toward you?

By the time you returned, it was obvious that the night hadn't been kind to you either. You went through the door, exhaustion on your shoulders, but the moment you stepped inside, Hyunjin couldn't stop looking at you. His stare followed you around the apartment as you removed your jewelry and makeup. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, but he couldn't stop watching you either, his heart heavy with regret.

You didn’t look at him when you spoke. Your voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it. “If you have something to say, Hyunjin, just say it. Stop staring at me like that. You’re making this worse.”

He flinched at the words, the sharpness cutting through the air between you both. His heart tightened, guilt sinking deeper. He knew he needed to say something. He knew he had to make it right, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Finally, he said, his voice raspy with guilt. "I never meant to hurt you, I swear. I had no idea what I was doing. I never thought I was comparing you. It was not like that. "I'm really sorry." You shook your head, letting a bitter laugh escape your lips.

"Hyunjin, how did you not know?" How did you not realize you were making me feel like I was second best? That every tiny remark was about her? You turned to face him, eyes piercing and raw. "Did you still think of her? Do you still want her? Because that could be everything you've been looking for, and I've only been a placeholder."

His eyes widened at the accusation. “No. No, that’s not it,” he said, rushing to explain. “I—I never wanted her back. I’m not in love with her anymore. I love you. I love you so much, and I swear I never meant for any of that to make you feel less than what you are to me. I’ve been an idiot, and I regret it. Please, just—please let me show you how much I love you.”

Your heart twisted at his words, but you couldn't suppress the anger and hurt that still lingered. “Then why did you keep comparing me to her, Hyunjin? Why does she even come up in every fight we have?”

He took a step forward, his voice desperate now. "I'm not even sure why it came out like that. I don't want to be the one to hurt you, and I know I've made mistakes, but I promise you that I love you. I'll do whatever to get you to forgive me. I don't care how long it takes. Please don't leave me thinking I've lost you because of my stupid mistakes."

You caught his eyes, looking for anything that would make you believe this was worth fighting for. His eyes were filled with despair and anxiety. Fear of losing you because, at that moment, he recognized how close he was to doing so.

But even with all the pain you felt, you could see that he was genuine. He wasn’t making excuses, wasn’t deflecting or gaslighting you. He was laying himself bare before you, acknowledging the hurt he’d caused, the mistakes he had made.

You took a deep breath, letting the tension of the argument slowly drain from your body. It wasn’t going to be easy, and it wasn’t going to be fixed in one conversation. But maybe just maybe there was hope.

“I’m not going to lie and say everything is fine right now,” you said quietly, your voice raw, “But I’m willing to try, Hyunjin. I need time to process all of this, but… I can’t do this if you keep making me feel like I’m competing with her.”

He nodded, his expression sincere. “I won’t. I promise. I’ll never compare you to her again. You’re the one I love. You. And I’m sorry I made you feel otherwise.”

You looked at him for a long moment, the weight of the argument still lingering, but slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease. You didn’t know what the future held for the two of you, but you were willing to let him show you that he could learn from this. That he could really see you.

“Just… be better,” you whispered, the words thick with emotion. “For both of us.”

Hyunjin nodded quickly, relieved, but the air between you stayed fragile. He knew he had to prove himself to you, and he was determined to do whatever it took to make sure you never felt this way again. "I will. I swear that I will do better. I just...” “I just want you to be happy, and I'll fight for that," he replied, his voice thick with sincerity.

You didn't say anything else right away, instead letting the silence fill the gap between you. You both knew it wasn't over just yet, but it was a start. A step toward repairing what had been broken, an opportunity to find your way back together. The silence wasn’t comfortable, but it was at least a little less heavy than before.

You took a deep breath and finally let yourself relax for the first time that night, the exhaustion from the argument slowly sinking in. It was going to take time, but you hoped just hoped that this time, things would be different.

masterlist.

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verdantchan · 2 days ago

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THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THIS FIC!!!

over 1k notes is crazy and I’m so happy you guys liked it 💕 I can’t wait to write some more and put it out!! Take care my sweeties!!!

Always You

Pairing: Best friend! Bangchan x Afab! Reader

Summary: It’s hard to enjoy a party when your best friend who you’ve been in love with for years turns up with his girlfriend…

Warnings: MDNI, dom!chan, sub!reader, possessive!chan, unprotected sex (don’t be like them) dirty talk, cum eating, multiple orgasms (f!rec) fingering (f!rec) mentions of mastubation, spitting (chan spits on it yk..) tummy bulge, creampie

Wc: 2.7k

a/n: did I write and edit it this in one sitting? yes I did,,, is this also my return to writing fics after 5 years bc I’m so attracted to chan idk what to do?? Also yes 🤪

‘‘Lixieee watch my drink, I nearly dropped it’’ You roll your eyes and smile at Felix as he practically jumps on you. His parties were always rowdy, especially when Jisung wormed his way into the planning. Colourful lights strewn around every pillar and doorway, countless bottles and cheesy red cups littering the granite countertops in the dorm kitchen, the air thick with smoke and the sickly sweet scent of liquor.

Part of you loved how committed the boys were to throwing the most stereotypical frat parties, the perfect way to unwind from the stress of uni life. You scan the room for that all too familiar face but find no sign of him, your shoulders dropping slightly, the disappointment in your chest too strong to ignore.

You and Chan had been best friends since you were 12, your parents pushing you together as an unlikely duo. You'd immediately become inseparable,spending every second with each other. People had always questioned your relationship, everyone thought you must be dating if you were so close, but you and Chan were just friends, at least that's what you convinced yourself it had to be.

You first started having feelings for Chan at 18, you were university freshmen starting the next big chapter of your lives together and you couldn't get him out of your head. His deep brown eyes that sparkled when he spoke about the things he loved, his soft curly black hair that you loved ruffling to annoy him and his dimples that became impossibly deep when he smiled. Being around him was both torture and comfort. Three years later and you were still completely in love with someone who views you as his best friend, nothing more. In other words, you're utterly fucked.

‘’Lix, have you seen Chan tonight? I thought he was coming’’ Felix still clinging to you in his tipsy state. His messy blonde hair slightly covering his eyes and freckle-dotted cheeks, a pink blush dusting his skin thanks to the many drinks he’d already knocked back.

‘’Nah not yet, he said he's coming later after his date’’ he slurs his words a little, all giggly and happy, not knowing the ache his words cause you. You hum in response, suddenly feeling less sociable than a few minutes ago.

‘’Ahhhhh speak of the devil’’ Felix laughs and nods toward the doorway, Chan's broad shoulders making it look tiny. His hand interlocked with hers, observing the room and briefly locking eyes with you before looking away.

Chan had been dating Euna for a few months, but it never got easier seeing them together.

They'd met in one of your classes, Euna was sweet, pretty and very popular with both the students and teachers. It hadn’t taken Chan too long to fall for her and spend less and less time with you. He swore nothing had changed between you two but you knew better. It wasn't long after they started dating that Chan began cancelling your plans because ‘Euna planned something’ or he ‘just couldn't make it that day’ You wanted to believe that it would all go back to the way it was soon enough but that day never came, Chan drifting further as time passed.

You missed his smile, the way he would make you laugh, the way he would bring you your favourite food when you were tired or upset. You thought that maybe one day you would be together, that Chan would see you as more than just his best friend. Sometimes it felt like more between you two.

He and Euna weave their way through the crowd, her trailing slightly behind, Chan looking back at her every so often with a smile, the sight of them making you nauseous though you wish it didn't. Chan lets go of her to pull Felix into a hug, Euna eyeing you awkwardly as the two of them catch up. Euna had never been rude to you, never made a snarky comment about you being friends with Chan, but she never really said much around you if you were honest.

‘’Your dress is super pretty’’ you squeak out attempting to break the silence between you two, She offers up a small thank you and a tight smile and turns to Chan as he pulls her into his side, his attention now on the two of you instead of the tipsy blonde Aussie

‘’Hey y/n’’ Chan smiles as he lets go of Euna and pulls you into a quick side hug, letting go as quickly as he’d pulled you in, his soft musky scent filling your senses. The four of you make small talk, Chan's eyes catching your own as Felix rambles to Euna about his current pc build. The air starts to feel suffocating, his glances making you feel trapped. You quickly make an excuse to leave, Chan's smile faltering as you excuse yourself from their conversation and disappear into the crowd of bodies.

It was impossible to think while Chan was standing there, his arms wrapped around Euna unapologetically. The jealousy burning more than the straight tequila sloshing around in your cup, you start to sway to the music begging yourself to forget about him and enjoy your night. You feel a pair of eyes follow your silhouette but you continue to drink and dance, the alcohol making its way through your system and drowning out every thought.

You feel a figure behind you grabbing your hips and swaying with you, turning your head to see the blurred outline of Hyunjin, his hair in his eyes, a pair of red sunglasses perched on his nose. You let yourself melt into him, you'd always found him attractive anyway. You and Hyunjin move together perfectly, his smooth movements guiding your own as he whispers the lyrics to the song in your ear, his plump lips catching your skin slightly. You finally move your eyes to Chan still feeling someone watching you, secretly wishing it was him. You’re met with a sharp glare, his eyes never leaving you and Hyunjin, his jaw locked in annoyance, you roll your eyes at him and turn around to face Hyunjin winding your arms around his slender neck.

You turn back to glance at Chan to find him charging your way, ripping you from your dance partner's embrace and towards the stairwell.

‘’Chan what the fuck are you doing?’’ you yell, trying to wriggle your wrist from his strong grip as he pulls you upstairs and into one of the empty bedrooms.

‘’What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are YOU doing y/n? Grinding all over Hyunjin like that’’

‘’We are not doing this right now, why does it have anything to do with you, Chan? Why do you even care?’’ venom coating your words, attempting to open the door and leave but being stopped short when he stands in the way, eyes burning into yours. Chan had never been like this with you, what had gotten into him?

‘’What? Are you suddenly into Hyunjin?? We both know he's not right for you y/n’’ his eyebrows knitted in annoyance.

‘’And how would you know what's best for me Chan? We hardly talk anymore!’’ you run your fingers through your hair, easing the tension building up behind your eyes.

‘’Of course we still talk, you know i've been busy’’ he fires back, disregarding how much space really had built up between the two of you.

’Give it up Chan and go back to Euna, what I do with Hyunjin has fuck all to do with you’’ you can't deal with the confusion, why is he acting like he's jealous of you and Hyunjin? Why does it matter to him?

‘’’I’m your best friend y/n of course it has something to do with me, he's not right for you’’

‘’Oh my god get your head out of your ass chan, just like you said, you're my best friend not my boyfriend. You can date but I can't? I'm not gonna wait on you to notice me for the rest of my life’’ You turn your face away from him, your confidence and fire slipping as Chan studies you intensely, the room silent apart from your breathing.

‘’My god you’re an idiot’’ Chan mumbles before grabbing your chin and smashing his lips onto yours, you melt into the kiss at first before snapping out of it and pushing him away

Chan what are you doing?’’ You feel dizzy as you maintain your balance, your hands still pressed against his toned chest. your lungs heaving in time with the thud of the music coming from below.

‘’You really have no idea, do you? I’m fucking in love with you y/n, why do you think I even started dating Euna in the first place, I wanted to get over you, why else would I jump into a relationship with a girl I hardly knew??’’ The annoyance in his voice evident as he goes on, he runs his hand through his hair repeatedly, messy waves falling in his face.

You stare up at him stunned, your lips parted in surprise, he pulls you back in, his lips covering yours as he presses you into him with fervour. He deepens the kiss and walks you backwards, his hands pressing into your hips, his hold nothing like hyunjins. He pulls away his eyes searching yours for something, anything.

“Tell me to stop, if you don't want this I’ll walk away” his voice is breathy and pained, evident that the last thing he wanted was for you to say now.

You've waited too long for this, for him to need you, touch you. You know it's wrong, his girlfriend just a floor below but you’ve wanted and waited too much to stop and walk away, you can deal with your moral shortcomings tomorrow.

‘’Please, Chan’’ you whisper, desperate for him to touch you again, clenching your thighs together as heat pools in your lower stomach, your insides on fire for him. He watches how desperate you are for him, your answer clear.

‘’Fuck you’re perfect’’ you look at him pleadingly and he can't hold back anymore, he’d thought about you like this too many times to count, in dreams and when awake. When he can't sleep and he fucks his fist wishing it was you, how pretty your moans would sound as he rocked into you, how tight you'd be around him, how his cum would leak out of your fluttering hole. He was too far gone, a man possessed.

You gasp as he pushes you back on the bed, his weight pressing you into the mattress perfectly, he licks and nips at your jaw, his hand finding your soaked underwear under your skirt, circling your puffy clit through the slick fabric.

“You’re so wet for me baby, bet Hyunjin could never have this effect on you. Gonna fuck you so good you'll forget he exists’’ his words making you tingle, his fingers exactly where you need them.

‘’Only want you’’ Your voice comes out breathy and fucked out even though he’s barely touched you and it sends a rush of blood to Chan's already rock-solid cock, straining against the tight fabric of his black jeans.

He sinks two fingers into your tight pussy and you scream in pleasure and pain at the intrusion, his fingers so much thicker and longer than yours, the stretch taking your breath away

‘’Yeah be a good girl and take my fingers in that tight little cunt, I know you can’’ The way he whispers as your pussy stretches around his fingers and wet squelches echo through the room has you throwing your head back, Chans other hand finding your tits as he stretches you out for him. You shake as he moves his fingers in and out of you, the stretch now dissolved into intense pleasure. He can tell you're close, your eyes closed in pleasure as you sigh out his name.

‘’cum for me pretty, cum around my fingers’’ You moan his name over and over as he rubs your soaking clit and plunges his fingers into your sopping hole, your back arching in pleasure as he works you through your high. Shouting his name as you cum on his fingers. He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean. The sight alone already making you needy for more

‘’Need you so bad baby, need to feel you milk my cock’’ he breathes out as he undoes his belt, desperate to be inside of you. You spread your sticky thighs, your glistening pussy on full display for him. His cock springs free from its confines, his pink tip leaking down onto the rest of his thick veiny length. It was no surprise he had the prettiest cock you'd ever seen. He gives it a few pumps, slapping your clit with his bulbous tip, and you moan in pleasure at the sting.

‘’Take it, baby. Gonna stretch you out so good, gonna make you mine’’ his voice shaky as he presses into you, your pussy spasming around his hard length splitting you open, he slowly bottoms out with a moan stilling inside you. His cock making your stomach bulge with his size

‘’Fuckfuckfuckkkk you're still so tight, such a perfect pussy’’ his words coming out more like a mantra, the feeling of you around him making him pussydrunk. He fucks in and out of you grabbing your thighs, spreading you wider for him, watching where you’re joined as he takes you.

‘’talk to me baby girl, tell me how I make you feel’’

‘’Love it when you fuck me Channie, love your cock so much’’ your voice strained and whiny, writhing against the sheets as he sets a rough pace. He spits on your pussy, the liquid dripping down to where you meet, the sight only aiding his pleasure.

‘’Bet you thought about this huh? Thought about how good it would feel when I ruin you, hmm baby? Bet you’d touch this little clit thinking about how good I would fuck you?’’ His thrusts become sloppy as he nears his orgasm, his fingers coming to circle your clit. Your moans getting louder as you get close for the second time.

‘’Cum with me baby, wanna cum in this pussy, fill you up with my cum’’ his thrusts getting more erratic and desperate as you orgasm together. You scream his name, your nails digging into his toned back muscles. Chan stills as he spurts his hot release into you, his cum painting your insides a milky white. He collapses onto you, his muscled chest pressed against your fucked out form, both of you breathing heavily.

‘’Fuck you're mine, just mine’’ he whispers, his cock still inside you, both your release leaking out around his still hard dick..

‘’Yeah just yours, Channie’’ you breathe out dreamily, still coming down from your high

You both lay like that for a while, Chan's face tucked into your neck, leaving gentle kisses, his cock stiffening again inside of you, the party coming to an end downstairs. Things had happened so fast you hadn't realised Chan brought you to his own room, the purple lights giving his skin a lilac hue.

‘’Chan. What happens now?” You hesitate not wanting to ruin the moment, praying you didn't just fuck everything up with him with a simple question.

He sighs into your skin snuggling closer ‘’I meant it when I said you're mine y/n, Euna knows she and I are done, she knew I was in love with you. I want this, I want you’’ his voice soft and sleepy.

Your heart nearly explodes, ‘’I love you too Chan, I want you too’’ you kiss him passionately, his tongue fighting yours for dominance, smiling into the kiss as he begins moving inside you again. It feels like a dream and you can't believe he's in love with you too, that he wants you like you want him. Now you have him you'll never let him go, you have always been his, even if he didn't know it.

‘’It's always been you y/n’’

-ty for reading!! Alr working on more hehe

#a/n #thank you!!#skz ff #skz hyunjin #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz smut #skz felix #bang chan x you #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut

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wlfchnlv3r · 2 days ago

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DIRTY MIND

Non idol! Hyunjin x bimbo girl! Fem reader

Synopsis: Hyunjin had a bad day at college and let his anger flow on you.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: fuck- that’s some nasty shit. MDNI!!!❌🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞, blowjob, face fucking!!!! Hyunjin is rude!!

Note: sorry for being absent for so long :(

Hyunjin had a bad day, his art professor rejected one of his project and he has to let his anger flow on someone. That someone is you, for that reason you are now kneel in front of him.

He is setting his camera on the bed near him, in order to frame you.

Your lips are parted with anticipation noticing his unbuttoned pants.

Hyunjin finally place the camera and start to lower his boxer freeing his already hard cock.

He smirks wickedly at your parted lips, his thumb pressing slightly harder against your throat, "Look at you... lips all parted, ready for your my cock..." your boyfriend murmurs darkly, his other hand gripping his throbbing length. He rubs the tip against your lips teasingly, smearing pre-cum across them.

"Dirty girl... you want my cum straight from the tap?" Hyunjin asks huskily, his smirk growing.

He slides the tip of his dick into your open mouth.

You instinctively close you eyes, feeling the salty liquid.

He grins darkly and grip the back of your head possessively, his thumb still pressing against your windpipe, "That's it, baby... take my dick like a good little slut..." he murmurs approvingly, his hips starting to move slowly.

He fucks your mouth gently at first, watching your throat bulge with his size, "Look at you... so innocent with those pretty eyes closed...".

Tears starts to run down your cheeks from the effort.

Hyunjin moans as he sees tears sliding down your cheeks, your eyes still closed. He loves the way his big dick stretches your tiny mouth. Your boyfriend starts to fuck your face faster, his length hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, “So cute when you cry from taking my dick..." he murmurs darkly, his other hand squeezing your neck gently. "You like choking on my thick cock, baby?" he asks softly, his hips snapping forward violently.

You cry out feeling his tip hitting the back of your throat.

Hyunjin chuckles, his length throbbing in your mouth. He loves the way your voice vibrates around his dick, the way your tears fall onto his shaft. Your boyfriend starts to facefuck you harder, his balls slapping against your chin with each thrust, "Yeah, cry for me, you pretty little thing..." He growls, his thumb pressing harder against your windpipe.

Hyunjin can feel you struggling to breathe, your eyes watering more.

He watches your mouth try to take his length, your eyes watering beautifully.

Your boyfriend realizes you're not using your hands to push him away, so he takes that as you enjoying being facefucked. He grins darkly, his hips snapping forward faster.

He sees your boobs bouncing softly with each thrust.

He calls softly, his hips never stopping. "Answer one question." his thumb presses harder against your neck.

He pauses his thrusts momentarily, allowing you to catch a small breath. His thumb remains pressed against your neck, controlling your airway slightly.

"Do you love having your throat fucked, baby, ?" Hyunjin asks softly, his eyes gleaming wickedly. He watches your watery eyes blink up at him, your lips swollen and glistening around his shaft. "Answer looking at the camera…”

You are not even able to talk, trying to catch your breath you just nod.

He grins at your nod, his hips starting to move again, “such a perfect little cockwhore..." your boyfriend mutters approvingly, fucking your face faster.

"Look at my beautiful little slut... taking me so well..." he presses his thumb harder against your windpipe, restricting your airflow slightly, "So innocent but such a dirty little whore when my cock's in your mouth..." Hyunjin watches as more tears slide down your face, his length throbbing.

You cry out again, with your eyes shout and your voice muffled by his dick.

“Such a good girl” he says, feeling your throat convulse beautifully around his length.

Your boyfriend watches your closed eyes, your tears sliding down your face. His hips snap forward brutally, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. "Am I fucking your face good, huh? Making such a pretty little cocksucker out of you..." Hyunjin thumb presses harder against your windpipe.

"Almost there, baby... gonna cum all down your pretty face..." He warns softly, fucking your mouth faster.

Your boyfriend hips slam forward one last time as he reaches his peak, pulling out of your mouth and releasing hot streams of cum directly onto your face.

You gasp in search of breath feeling his hot cum all over your face.

Hyunjin keeps his thumb pressed against your neck, watching his seed mark your pretty cheeks and innocent eyes, “Fuck... look at my beautiful little baby.." he whispers, enjoying the sight of his release mixing with your tears, "I marked your face so good, baby..."

You blink a few times, astrand of saliva and cum connects your lip to his tip before breaking.

"Perfect little cum-covered whore..." Hyunjin traces the streaks of his release on your face with his dick head, smearing it.

He takes the camera in his hand holding it in front of your face, "Look at this beautiful little cumslut..." your boyfriend says into the camera, his voice low and husky, "My baby's face is covered in my cum, her pretty eyes all teary and streaked with my release..." he moves the camera to show your marked face, then back to himself, "And she's still so innocent-looking, despite being a dirty little cockwhore..." Hyunjin pauses and smirks as he reviews the video, satisfied with how it captured your thoroughly used and marked face.

"Goddamn, you look gorgeous like this..." your boyfriend murmurs, more to himself than to you. He sets the phone down and grabs your chin roughly, turning your face side to side. "Such a perfect little cum-canvus...".

After a moment Hyunjin throw the camera on the bed and help you to stand on your feet, “Well, let’s clean you up baby, you did so good”

Taglist: @felixleftchickennugget @kiwininja35 @sweetpickledjins @slmnheart @elqivxstxr @catffeinexo-xx @multistancheck @justwonder113 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @hello-stranger24 @raptorbait529 @cocofia143 @minniesverse @eastjonowhere @justwonder113 @yerijaksel

#stray kids #skz #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #hyunjin #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader

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hyunbelievable · 2 days ago

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You’re Jealous? Part 2

Summary: SMAU of different scenarios with the Stray Kids boys in which they are jealous 🫣

TW: slightly suggestive comment on Han’s (so mild it’s barely there), mention of being shot (in a joking manner), swearing

Disclaimer: the situation with Lee Know’s is actually something that happened to a friend of mine and since he’s her bias I figured I’d use that as his jealous moment

Includes: Changbin, Han and Lee Know

SS Count: 6 (two for each boy) 🥰

If you haven’t yet, you can read part one here:

As always, I hope you enjoy! If you have any ideas/requests in mind, dont be shy! I’d love to hear your ideas and bring them to life!! 🥰

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staybabblingbaby · 3 days ago

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Soulmate Garden AU Ch.4 (Lewisia) a3d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 10,680

Notes: Holy shit, it's been like 3 months?????? In my defense, holidays are awful, and this is a fuckin' beast of a chapter. Binnie would NAWT shut up T^T She almost matches the word count for the entire fic so far TT^TT Plus 10 images of texting. Y am i like this??? Huge shout outs to my lovely, patient, amazing betas who made this chapter at ALL possible, @lazyfacecowboy and @brbwritingfanfic. Seriously, this would not have been written without y'all, everyone say thank you! Also special mention for @chancloud8 for negotiating me through the last bit of the chapter LMAO. She kept feeding me fics, they were my reward for doing the writing UvU

Hope y'all enjoy! And I hope it was worth the wait <3

(p.s my ass did NOT do a real final readthrough. If the formatting is weird pls forgive me, I'm sick of looking @ her T^T)

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: Allusions to past domestic violence, flashback of verbal abuse (very vague, but still there), panic attack, she/her reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part (Coming Soon <3)

The next morning marks a return to routine.

You roll out of bed half awake, sleep-mused and ready for murder. Your mood isn’t improved by the way you’d gone to bed - still in your work clothes with day-after mascara gluing your eyelids together.

A quick stop by the restroom to strip and scrub your face is a necessity, otherwise you’re liable to just crawl back into bed and rot there. You honestly wish you could. Just rot away and let all this soulmate business pass you by as you slowly return to the earth.

Alas, capitalism waits for no man.

You examine your reflection when you’ve finished, doing your best to ignore the remaining traces of grey streaks down your cheeks where your eyeliner hadn’t been as waterproof as advertised.

You try to hold onto the flash of irritation the sight brings you, to cling to the normalcy of being irritated that your makeup is waterproof enough to be a pain to remove, but not to stay through your tears. Then you remember what you’d been crying over and the pit of fear and shame that’s been your companion the last few days comes rolling back.

You don’t even know why you’d cried. Don’t feel like you deserved to cry. After all, it’s not like you were the one rejected by your soulmate for no reason.

You do your best to shake off the incoming spiral, ambling your way into the kitchen. You just need to fall back on your routines and feel normal for a bit. You’re not entirely convinced that ignoring your problems won’t make them go away, despite the dark feelings trembling in your chest.

You press your lips together to stop the bottom one from trembling and open the fridge. There’s a plate of eggs, fruit, and toast inside.

Taylor, freak of nature that he is, has been up for hours already, you know. He’d probably been up and out the door before the sun had even thought about rising. Weirdo.

Your roommate is well aware of how non-functional you can be in the morning, so it’s not unusual of him to leave you leftovers when he makes breakfast. Especially when he knows you’re not feeling your best. The little note on top isn’t new either: usually a reminder, grocery list, or a little encouragement for your day. The whole thing makes you smile, usually, and you’re always touched by his consideration.

Today that little note makes your eyes prick with a new wave of tears.

‘Give yourself a chance. Bet’s still on <3’

The $20 you’d slapped onto the counter last night is taped to the back. It feels a bit like a stone hand is crushing your heart under the weight of something unknowable and precious when you carefully tuck both the money and the note into your wallet.

You very deliberately do NOT cry, though it’s a near thing. You’d done enough crying last night. But if you sniffle a bit into cold eggs, well...

That’s for you to know, isn’t it?

It’s a Tuesday, so after breakfast you drag yourself back to your room to throw on your largest, rattiest, t-shirt and a pair of leggings to head to the gym. You’ll drag yourself through your routine with leaded limbs if you have to, you’re going to have the most regular day you can manage and everything will be fine. It has to be.

You can’t help it when eyes catch on the newly-bloomed marks on your skin as you strip away your sleepwear. The sight makes you uneasy, almost uncomfortable. It takes you a moment to realize why looking at your mark, a daily ritual you’ve kept for years, feels so foreign to you today.

It’s almost alarming to acknowledge that you haven’t actually looked at your mark since you’d met your first soulmate. The concert feels like a lifetime ago, now, despite having been barely two days ago. You’re a bit ashamed to admit that you’d been avoiding looking at it since you’d felt the first flowers bloom.

It’s no wonder looking at it feels weird, you muse as you study it now. It might as well be a whole new mark, for all the changes that have happened since you last saw it.

You decide, in the name of returning to your routine for good, that you can’t skip even this tiny part of your daily rituals.

You shuffle over to your closet, swinging open the door to reveal the full-length mirror hanging on the other side. You don’t bother with your usual rounds of self-depreciation or daily affirmations. Instead, you find your eyes glued to droopy purple petals and blankets of white stars across your abdomen.

Something wilted and small within you mourns the loss of the buds that had brought you so much comfort since they’d appeared. The new blooms are beautiful, of course, vibrant and radiant and full of so much meaning. Still, the change wounds you.

Only time will tell if it’s the healing sort of hurt.

You find your eyes glued to the fresh flowers. Their names come to mind with ease as you trace gentle fingers over echoes of delicate petals. ‘Bellflowers’ You recite to yourself, drawing your finger up thin stalks and back down dipped heads, ‘for gratitude, affection, and endurance’. Your fingers dance a bit lower. ‘Edelweiss’ you muse, lightly tapping each fuzzy white star, ‘for devotion, nobility, and courage’.

The knowledge comes easily to you, not from any cosmic force, but because of course it does. Your sister hadn’t been wrong when she’d said that asking a person’s favorite flower had been basically an obsession of yours.

The habit had started well before you’d gotten your mark. Before you’d even properly known what soulmates were, really.

It started with lazy summer days you’d been almost too young to remember. A slim hand engulfing your tiny wrist, being made to sit next to your mother while she did something in the dirt, her shadow your only shelter from the blistering sun.

Gardening with your mother had started as a way for her to drag you out of the house to get some sun while keeping an easy eye on you. Before your sister was born you’d spent many hazy afternoons learning to work the soil beside your mother.

After the advent of your favorite gremlin, you’d spent those afternoons tending to the family garden alone.

You remember being grateful to the newborn back then. Those solitary afternoons were some of the most peaceful in your memory.

At some point the ‘family garden’ had become more ‘your garden’. Your mother wouldn’t even bother to plan it out with you by the time your sister had reached her toddler years. She’d drive you to the store, hand you a bit of cash, and leave it all in your tiny capable hands.

You’d spent hours researching the best ways to nurture your plants.

What flowers liked being planted together, which ones should be separated. You learned about soil types and the nutrients found in them. You learned about ph values, how to measure them, and why they mattered. Anything to have your garden thriving more brightly, more beautifully, for longer.

If you weren’t in the garden, you were in the library by your house, nose buried in a gardening book.

You vividly remember the day it all went wrong.

It hadn’t even been that dramatic, as you recall. At least, not in terms of your parent’s usual fights. It was heartbreak—despair— that had marked the day, instead of fear.

You’d been digging up weeds, clawing up deep roots with your gloved hands and a trowel, when your father had come storming outside.

You don’t remember what he’d said. It’d been nonsense, just vitriol for vitriols' sake. Something about you always taking your mother’s side because of your shared hobby, you think.

Never mind that the woman hadn’t put so much as a toenail to the dirt since your sister had been born.

He hadn’t let up for quite a while, if memory serves. Stood there yelling at you in your safe space for close to an hour. Maybe two, but your child-brain couldn’t be trusted with the time.

It may have just been minutes, now that you think about it.

Nonetheless, he’d yelled, and yelled, and yelled. He hadn’t trampled on or broken anything. He hadn’t even made sense.

And yet, when he’d finally left, everything was different.

The blooms you’d worked so hard to nurture were no longer beautiful, the soil you’d once called home no longer safe.

You hadn’t tended another garden after that season. You’d seen your plants to winter, and you’d let go. You’d turned away from the sun and soil and leaned into your books and silly questions to fill the hole left behind.

You’re sure you’d left claw marks in the dirt.

Something like a gentle humming emanates from your soulmark, and its warmth draws you back to the present. You look down at it, noticing how tightly you're clutching at the garden around your waist, your arms wrapped around you in a weak semblance of a hug. Each of your fingers had managed to directly touch a flower.

The awkward sprawl of your fingers feels natural, as if you’d never sought to comfort yourself any other way. As if seeking out your bond, your link to total strangers, for comfort was all you’d ever done.

It was natural, you muse. It was human nature to seek resonance in their bonded. It was the universe’s way of assuring you that you’re loved. Your soulmate’s way of assuring you that they’re still there.

You gingerly pry your hands away and blankly study the crescent moons you’ve left behind, soft skin indented where petals should have ripped.

You wonder if you’ll leave claw marks in this garden too. If they’ll leave claw marks in you.

You tear your eyes away from the mirror, ignoring the warm, gentle tingling up your side where your fingers had dug in. You know it means the people on the other end are pressing against their own marks. You know it shows their care, how that gentle sensation masks the stinging ache your fingers should have left behind.

For some reason, you miss the pain.

You quickly toss on a camisole, forgoing your usual privacy wraps, and your t-shirt over that.

There was nothing for emptying your mind quite like running yourself into the ground at the gym. With full awareness that you’re going to regret your gym session later, you flee your apartment, your mind pleading normal, normal, normal.

Maybe jogging all the way to the gym wasn’t such a great idea. It’d sounded fantastic at the time, a head start on your cardio and a way to remove yourself from your negative headspace before you tried to toss around weights you barely knew how to use.

It had sort of worked, but now you hadn’t even entered the building and you were already a sweaty, panting, mess.

You enter the building after guzzling down half of your water bottle, resignation in your heart. Cardio wasn’t even your focus today.

The automatic doors slide open with their usual swish and you’re greeted by the familiar stale smell all gyms seem to share, no matter how clean. It’s comforting, even if you do kind of wanna go home already.

There’s someone already at the receptionist’s desk when you approach, talking in slow and measured English. You try not to be annoyed with the tiny delay, but while you’d successfully outrun your demons (for now), your bad mood had stuck around.

Alas, you’ve ventured into the public and found the public there. A travesty. Knowing that you just have to deal with it, you cross your arms and bite back the irritation this complete stranger hadn’t done anything to earn.

Luckily enough, the low and measured cadence of the stranger’s voice is soothing enough to zone out to. Unfortunately, he’s also the only thing around to rest your eyes on, so you find yourself studying his form.

His back is broad and built, huge biceps on display in a tight fitting black t-shirt. You kinda wanna squish them. A vivid tattoo sleeve runs all the way down to his wrist, and you find your stare glued to it.

Large, boldly colored flowers take up the majority of the space, vague outlines of crashing waves and rolling mists filling in the rest with a luxurious combination of oriental art styles.

Beautiful as it is, you can’t help but think it doesn’t look finished.

Dragging your eyes away from such gorgeous ink is quite the task, but you don’t want your admiration to be mistaken for judgement. It gets easier when you start to notice just how fine the man himself is.

You really can’t help the way your eyes trace up and down his body, now that you’re no longer anchored to his tattoo. It should be impossible, you think, to somehow bulk up in only the right places, but by Jove this man has done it. You’re jealous, honestly.

Your eyes come to a rest on the stranger’s backside. Quite jealous, indeed.

You try to shake yourself from your admiration, reminding yourself that there were very many well-muscled men in this place and that you’d always endeavored to keep a polite line-of-sight, even when they didn't. It hadn’t even been a hard ask, until now.

You drag your gaze back up to the back of his head.

You’d be polite if it killed you. Even if neither the stranger or the scrawny receptionist had noticed your wandering gaze. Especially then.

While you were.... distracted... the man’s conversation with the receptionist seemed to have gone a whole lot of nowhere. From what you can gather, he’s looking for a short-term membership, and the receptionist is trying to tell him they don’t do that.

You know that’s true, the receptionist isn’t trying to scam the guy. Even the trial period for this place was an entire month. You’d specifically chosen this gym for that reason. If you hadn’t been able to stick it out for a month, you know you’d have never used the place enough to justify a membership.

You send your sympathies to this stranger, it seems he really just needs a little less than a week. You know there are some no-commitment type places not too far though, so you wonder why he’s stuck on this place.

Their back and forth goes a while longer, but it’s evident that the beautifully-built stranger can’t really argue his case properly. Whether because of the obvious language barrier he’s working with, or because he’s run out of arguments, you can’t be sure.

Eventually he steps to the side to make a call, and you’re able to approach the counter.

The receptionist (His name is Jake, you remind yourself by reading his name-tag. The owner’s nephew, if you recall) looks relieved to see you after whatever hassling the stranger had given him.

He lazily waves the clipboard and its sign-in sheet at you in greeting. You take the clipboard, trading him your membership card and driver’s license for it, and turn to prop your knee up on the counter to balance it while you write.

Incidentally, your choice of position keeps the stranger in your line of sight.

It also happens to give Jake a view of his own, but you magnanimously ignore his gaze wandering to your chest. If only because you’re still looking not-so-respectfully at the tattooed stranger a few feet away.

You weren’t close to the receptionist by any means, but Jake is easy to chat to, when you take the extra minute to do so. The type of acquaintance you’d never remember the name of if it weren’t pinned to his lapel, but you've seen pictures of every dog he’s ever had.

It makes it easy to pry him for gossip.

“So what was that all about?” You query as you hand back the clipboard. He shrugs at you, typing a second longer.

“Some big-shot who needs a security detail,” He answers, unimpressed, “Says this is the only gym in, like, five miles of his hotel that he doesn’t need an entourage to go to.”

You hum your understanding, now trying to place if the handsome stranger was someone you knew of.

Situations like that weren’t uncommon for this gym. Celebrities that actually lived in LA weren’t spotted here very often but, since it was settled very close to quite a few high-security luxury hotels, the building saw its fair share of famous faces.

Due to its occasionally high-profile clientele, security was kept quite tightly, and a certain code of conduct was expected amongst the gym’s members. It was another justification for the long trial period, wherein one could only access the front room with the basic weights and machines. All the fancy stuff (including a pool, rock wall, dance studio, and all sorts) was in the back.

Non-members weren’t allowed past reception at all.

It was also another reason you yourself were a patron here. The high security and strict standards made for a quiet and comfortable atmosphere.

At least, as long as you ignored the judgmental looks. Most people who utilized this space were much more fit and put together than you. You tried not to let it bother you.

“What’s the issue, then?” You question Jake, “Doesn’t the owner make exceptions for celebrities?” You phrase it as a question, but you know he does. The unfamiliar faces that pop up for a few days every now and then wouldn’t show up otherwise.

Jake just sighs like he’s had this conversation a thousand times. Considering the celebrity(?) waving his hands around as he spoke rapidly into his phone not far away, maybe he had.

“He does, but he’s out of town and no one else can adjust the contracts.” He eventually explains. He finally hands you your stuff back, and you hum consideringly as you put the cards back in your wallet.

Another glance at the furrowed brows on the stranger’s masked face has pity welling up your throat.

You turn your gaze to focus on Jake.

“Do I still have that visitor pass?” You ask him, knowing that he still has your details up. Jake glances at you with a raised eyebrow, but obligingly checks the computer.

“Yup,” He confirms, “You’ve been paying for it since you dragged your poor roommate in here that one time. Why?”

“Can he use it?” you nod your head to the frustrated stranger. From where you’re sat, still perched on the edge of the desk, it looks oddly like he’s begging whoever’s on the other line.

Your visitor pass wasn’t all-access, of course. It’d just get the poor guy into the main front room plus the locker rooms and showers, but you figured it’d be better than nothing. It wasn’t like Taylor would step foot in here after you’d run him ragged last time, not even for the moral support.

Jake levels you with his most deadpan stare. It’s quite a good one, completely unimpressed. You think it must be something about customer service that allows him to make that face. Or maybe it’s just you.

“You realize that your visitor pass is you vouching for your visitor’s character, right?” He reminds you, “If he does anything, breaks anything, pisses off the wrong lifeguard- it’ll be on your head.”

You just shrug. It’s not like you couldn’t find a new gym if you had to. You’d miss this one, with its quiet atmosphere and abundant amenities, but you didn’t require its security and discretion like some of the other members did.

“I’ve got a good feeling about it.” Is all you tell Jake. It’s not even a lie.

The poor boy just rolls his eyes at you. He still turns to rifle through the desk for the right form for you to fill out though, so you’ll take it.

“You a fan of his or something?” Jake asks, handing you a different clipboard. “There are easier ways to bag a celebrity.”

“Nope!” You answer cheerfully, fully ignoring the suggestion of your motives as you start to fill out the form, “No idea who he is.”

Jakes huffs an incredulous laugh, and turns a considering gaze on your new friend. And the stranger does have to be a friend now, because ‘some guy’ is not an option on your paperwork.

“I bet he’s a wrestler,” he finally says after a long moment, “Or a sportswear model.”

You gently bop him on the head with your clipboard, “I refuse to participate in your speculation.” You admonish, ignoring his whining.

“I’ll show you his picture when you leave,” He smirks back, “and whatever google says about him.” He shrugs when you send him a cutting glare, “What? It’s public information.”

“Respect your customer’s privacy, you weirdo.” You scold. He just laughs as you hand him the form, all filled out and just waiting for the stranger’s signature. You know full well that Jake will go through with his research, regardless of what you say, so you give up easily.

It’s not like he’ll be fired for doing it, as long as you don’t go blabbing about the poor celebrity outside of the gym. Privileges of nepotism.

You exchange farewells as you hop off the counter, and he begins to wave over Mr. Celebrity. You meet the eyes of your on-paper friend and offer him a quick nod before you scuttle off deeper into the building.

Hopefully he’d be too grateful for your offer to find you terribly strange.

You manage to make it all the way through your warm-ups before your good deed gets punished. You suppose you’ll be grateful to the universe for letting you find your zen on your yoga mat before it dropped the other shoe.

You notice the legs in the mirror before you realize someone is trying to speak to you. You accidentally ignore the newcomer for several long moments, assuming they were approaching to use a different part of the mirror. When you finally realize they’re waiting for you to acknowledge them, it’s been just shy of too long.

You ease out of your last stretch and stand up, automatically taking an earbud out as you turn to face them.

“Sorry, did you need me to move?” You question as you finally look up. You‘d had your most emo playlist blasting in your ears during your warm up, an attempt to process your feelings through movement or whatever that one instructor from forever ago had tried to teach you.

So of course it’s with perfect clarity that A. Jay Popoff sings “I am my own worst enemy” into the empty space between you and Seo motherfuckin’ Changbin.

Your mental plea for a normal, routine sort of day dies a horrible death when you make eye contact with the pop-star.

And you realize you really must be your worst enemy as you do, because you easily recognize the outfit he’s wearing and the vivid tattoos on his arm.

Of course your good deed for the day led you to one of your soulmates. Of. Fucking. Course.

You’re not sure what you’d done to Karma recently for her to be throwing all of this shit at you right now, but you’d appreciate it if she’d just let you apologize instead of whatever cruel punishment this is.

Changbin must realize you recognize him, because he shyly raises a hand to fiddle with his earrings as he replies.

“Ah, no, I uh...” The hand slides to the back of his neck and he clears his throat uncomfortably. You quickly school your expression back into a semblance of normality when he glances away. You feel like you might still be a bit wild around the eyes, though.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” He concludes. He looks like he wants to say more, but you figure he might not have the English words to do so easily. It’s okay, you don’t really have the Korean to describe how you’re feeling right now either.

Your first instinct is to offer to speak Korean for him, but the air between the two of you is already wildly uncomfortable. Vastly different causes for both of you, you’re sure, but it’s enough to make you second guess your every move.

“Oh, uh, no problem.” You assure.

You stare resolutely at his nose when you speak. If you look into his eyes again you’re sure you’ll spill your entire life story. And if not that extreme, you’ll at least spill the whole soulmate thing. Something about being directly confronted with your problems makes you chatty.

But also if you look away from his face, knowing that body is supposed to be compatible with yours... It leads to some very impolite thoughts. Cute as it is, his nose is the safest thing for you to look at right now.

You offer the idol a thin-lipped smile when you realize the interaction hasn’t ended. Dear god, why has it not ended?

“Anything else I can do for ya?” you offer, inwardly cursing your manners. You’ve lived here long enough that you know people outside your tiny country-side town take that as an invitation instead of a dismissal.

Sure enough, Changbin starts to speak again, his words slow and careful. You watch him wipe his palms on his shorts, idly wondering if he’s shitting himself internally as much as you are right now. And what he’s freaking out about if he is.

“You... Recognize me? Are you STAY?” He gestures a bit while he talks, like he’s trying to cast a spell on you to understand what he’s trying to say. You think it might work, because your mouth is running off without you before you quite process the words.

“Ahh.. hah, uh,” You chuckle awkwardly, your fingers rising to pinch your lips nervously, “My roommate is. We were at your concert the other day, actually,” And even as you say the words your eyes flick down to his arm. You refocus, hopefully before he could notice the quick glance, but you can’t stop your thoughts from spiraling.

After all, he didn’t have that kind of ink at the concert. You and Taylor were front row, right up on the barricade, you’d seen all eight Stray Kids up close and personal. You’d have remembered such a vivid tattoo. And there were only so many reasons to cover a sleeve like that so completely.

Something complicated settles in your stomach as you realize that Changbin is probably a ‘loud and proud’ kind of soulmate, if he’s showing off his mark like this outside of his work. Work you know prevents him from showing off his mark.

Your mouth keeps running without you while you have your little crisis.

“I didn’t recognize you at reception, I woulda had you sign something for him.” You can’t help the rush of embarrassment that sweeps through you, even as you laugh uncomfortably at your own joke.

Why on earth would you say something like that? This situation is already uncomfortable enough! On so many levels!

Somehow, this seems to have been the right thing to say, though, as Changbin’s eyes light up at your joke, the tension easing a bit.

“I can sign,” He suggests, “It would make me feel...” He starts gesturing again, looking for the word he wants, “Less bad?” He finishes like a question.

And suddenly you understand his awkwardness a lot better. It always sucks to feel indebted to someone.

You laugh a little more freely with your new understanding, “Oh, you really don’t have to,” You assure, “I was just joking.”

He shakes his head, “Think of it as.. trade.” He nods, satisfied with himself.

You bob your head to the side, pressing your lips together with a tiny, frustrated, whine, “I really didn’t want anything from you,” you insist, “I hold onto that pass for my roommate, but he never comes with me anyways. You’re doing me a favor using it, seriously.”

You try to speak slowly and clearly, taking a page from Changbin’s book and letting your hands roam while you speak. You hope your spell of understanding works as well as his did.

He takes a moment to respond, mouthing along to some of your words. It’s kind of fascinating to watch someone translate in real time, especially when the process is written all over their face. It’s a little surreal to be on the other side of it.

Eventually his face clears, and he makes a little ‘ah!’ noise that you really shouldn’t find as endearing as you do. You’re in the middle of rejecting your soulmates, you should not be finding one of them cute right now.

“If it is roommate’s pass, more reason to sign, yes?” He reasons, looking proud of his logic. You huff a tiny laugh at him, absolutely charmed.

“Sure, big guy,” You sigh with defeat, though you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face, “Sounds like a fair trade. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

The two of you stall for a moment, the atmosphere leagues lighter than before.

When the moment seems over, you make a show of looking down at your pocket-less outfit, and then at the ground around you.

“I don’t have a pen on me,” you trail off meaningfully. He looks surprised for a second, like the possibility had never occurred to him.

“Oh,” He looks around as well, lost for a moment, “I can see if front desk has one?” he asks, like he’s looking for instruction. Another thought seems to occur to him then.

“Do you have...” He starts to gesture again, but you cut him off with a nod, fairly certain you’re sure what he’s trying to ask.

“Yeah, I’m sure I can find something for you to sign,” You point in the direction of the locker room, “I’ll probably have to look in my bag though.” You glance between him, the door to the locker room, and the door that leads out to reception.

“Meet back here in 5?” you propose. He seems content with this plan and nods in agreement. “Oh!” You stop him before he can fully turn around.

“Ask for a sharpie,” you instruct, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to find regular paper.” In fact, you’re pretty sure you’ll be sacrificing the spare ball cap you keep in your bag for this. You hope Taylor likes tie-dye.

With that, the two of you go your separate ways. It takes you no time at all to locate the bright monstrosity of a hat, a souvenir you abhorred from one of your father’s many ‘business’ trips. It would be no loss to you, but you take time to see if you have any actual paper around. You need the processing time.

Stars above, what were you thinking? There was no way you were getting out of this without another soulmate bond, but here you were, casually chatting with the guy instead of getting the fuck out of dodge!

You really couldn’t help it though.

Even when he’d been no more than a stranger to you, you hadn’t been able to help the way you gravitated toward Changbin. Now that you knew he was your soulmate, your actions made a lot more sense to you.

You’d always been on the people pleasing side of helpful, but vouching for a complete stranger was new for you. Even now, you were obediently grabbing an item for him to deface with a signature you don’t even want (no matter how thoroughly Taylor would murder you if you’d passed it up) just because you could tell how uneasy Changbin was with just accepting the visitor pass.

It didn’t help that the man was endearing as hell. Every little thing he did seemed cute to you, and you’d barely known him for ten minutes!

You felt like this was a new low for you. Doing things you didn’t really want to, for a man. Taylor would be so disappointed in you.

Having stalled for maybe far too long, you settle on sacrificing the atrocious hat to Changbin’s pen and put your stuff away. Something heavy and squirmy settles in your chest as you make your way back out to retrieve your prize from the man of the hour.

Surprisingly, there’s no accidental meeting of hands when Changbin autographs your hat. He did give you a bit of a bemused look for the choice of item, but you’d just shrugged at him. It was all you were willing to sacrifice, and Taylor should be grateful for even this much, in your opinion.

Unsurprisingly, the lack of first contact does not ease your mind at all. In fact, it rockets up your anxiety another thousand notches. You can’t help checking over your shoulder at every opportunity, despite the fact that Changbin hadn’t left the weights area since he’d settled there and couldn't follow you through the door to the rest of the facility regardless.

Look, you know how the whole first contact thing worked, okay? Fate would put two soulmates in the same place for whatever stupid reason, and find an even stupider reason for them to make skin-to-skin contact. You’d experienced it twice now, and you couldn’t help but think going out of your way to avoid everything Changbin was wouldn’t help you very much.

Even still, you can’t stay paranoid and vigilant forever. When nothing happens while you finish your cardio, or when you work your way through both the pool and the sauna, you admittedly let down your guard a bit.

Maybe that’s why, after you’ve made your way back to the front room to try and finish your workout, when you’re mid-stretch and staring daggers at a weight machine you’re sure you’ll figure out how to use if you glare long enough, you jump about five miles out of your skin when you hear Changbin’s voice behind you.

Jumping from such a precarious position is never a good idea, and your sudden movement has set your head on a one-way collision course with the gym’s hardwood floors about it.

Hands fly around your middle, catching you awkwardly around your ribs. Unfortunately, all this noble attempt to catch you does is slow your descent, giving you just enough time to flinch violently enough to bring your arms up and prevent your head from meeting the ground and brace for impact.

The rest of you still hits the ground pretty hard, and Changbin’s knees and elbows meet a similar fate, his own head saved by headbutting your stomach, knocking the air out of you even harder than it already had been.

The two of you sit there a moment, groaning with the pain of your fall. At least you don’t have a concussion. You’ll take every small mercy with the way the universe has treated you lately.

Some part of you is cognizant enough to give the heavens a heartfelt thank you when you notice that none of your aches and pains are from your soulbond activating. Somehow, through that entire debacle, and even considering the amount of exposed skin between your t-shirt and his, you hadn’t managed to touch. You’re still safe.

As the shock starts to wear off, you start to become aware of the warmth of large hands still resting heavily against your sides, both soothing and wildly distracting. It’s like every fiber of your being is focused on where he’s touching you, warm and weighty. Changbin’s head still buried in your abdomen doesn’t help with the building fluster taking over your brain.

You swear one of his thumbs has landed squarely on one of the flower buds directly opposite Lee Know’s Bellflowers, and the tingly feeling of the bond weakly trying and failing to establish through the thin barrier of your shirt is not helping your mushy brain at all.

You tip your head back to stare at the ceiling, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent yourself from doing something stupid, like confessing all of your sins to Changbin right then and there.

Maybe you did have a concussion after all.

It’s probably been less than a minute since the two of you hit the floor, but it feels like ten hours have passed when Changbin finally lifts his head, wide eyes finding yours frantically.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” He asks, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, are you okay?” He uses his hold on you to gently lift you to a seated position, removing them in favor of hovering politely as he fusses. You don’t think he’s realized he’s reverted to his native Korean in his panic.

“I’m alright, I’m okay,” you assure him in the same language, “Just bruised a bit, I’m fine.”

He continues to fuss a bit more, running you through a quick series of concussion tests even after you tell him that you hadn’t hit your head at all. It’s only after he’s helping you to your feet, respectfully allowing you to use a clothed part of his arm to help yourself up, that he clocks the language the both of you are using.

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” He teases, “You speak Korean all of the sudden.”

You can’t help the little laugh that escapes you, nor can you help how his smug little smile makes your heart flutter. “I’ve spoken Korean the whole time.” You inform him.

“And you didn’t tell me? You just let me struggle?” The fondness in his smile assures you that he’s just joking, so you respond in kind.

“You were just trying so hard...” You shrug sheepishly and delight in the full body laugh that tears out of him. You wait for him to calm before you ask, “What did you need, by the way? I didn’t catch what you said before, well..” You gesture helplessly at the floor.

It’s his turn to look sheepish now, shoulders hiking up and a nervous hand making its way to his neck, “Ah, that.” he shrugs, “I was just saying that you had a pretty soulmark.”

The sudden compliment catches you off guard, and you suddenly become aware that your camisole has come loose from where it had been tucked into your sweats. Your hand flies up to cover the now-covered skin of your stomach, feeling sick.

You can’t remember when it happened, and the thought of however many strangers seeing your soulmark, no matter how little of it, sends a sharp note of dread through your body. You suddenly feel eyes digging into your skin, despite being covered again as soon as you’d stood up. You feel a bit sick, your skin crawling with discomfort.

You’re aware that your camisole would have ridden up to your lower back, at most, but there’s no telling how much of your mark anyone might have seen. What Changbin might have seen, what he may have noticed.

Changbin must notice your sudden pallid complexion, and continues on, trying to reassure you, probably. You barely hear him over the heartbeat in your ears, your trembling hands trying to discreetly tuck the undershirt back in while he speaks.

“I just meant that it’s very colorful and vibrant,” He explains, smile fading from his face as concern starts to cloud it at your reaction, “Whoever your soulmate is, they’re very lucky.”

“Ah, I don’t know them yet,” You counter. It’s even the truth. You hadn’t spoken much to any of your soulmates so far. Well, until now, you guess.

“Oh, well, I stand by what I said.” He asserts, his easy grin betrayed by the pinch between his brows, “Whoever your soulmate is will be very lucky to have you.”

“I don’t know about all that,” You tilt your head with self-deprecating consideration.

Maybe it’s a lingering guilt for how you’ve been handling your soulmates so far that makes you continue the thought, instead of laughing it off like the joke it should be. Maybe you just want him- want them- to know why you’ve been acting this way, “I don’t even know if I want to meet them, so I’m not sure how lucky they could be to have me as a soulmate.”

Changbin levels you with an absolutely baffled look, as if you’ve just challenged the very foundation of his worldview.

“Why not?” He asks, “Doesn’t everyone want to meet their soulmate?”

You wrap yourself in a loose hug, one hand rubbing soothingly at your elbow, and shrug, “I just... I haven’t had great experiences with soulmates, is all.” You can’t keep your eyes from straying to his soulmark, vibrant and full.

It’s an image that would be hard to elbow your way into, and you can’t imagine a way that the addition of you could possibly enhance it. It still feels unfinished to you, but it doesn’t look that way. You feel both better and worse about yourself, knowing that they didn’t need you.

A glance at Changbin’s utterly lost face has you opening your mouth before you can think about it, shoulders beginning to climb up to your ears.

“Not all soulmates get along, you know?” You mutter sullenly, almost to yourself.

Changbin seems to consider this for a moment, head tilting cutely to the side as he takes in your claim.

“I mean, sure.” He draws his words out slowly, carefully, with a little furrow between his brows. “Everyone fights sometimes, but you get through it together, right? That’s what makes you soulmates. Choosing to stick together.”

You couldn’t hold in the scoff and eye-roll combo that rips out of you if you’d tried. “Yeah, maybe.”

You’d feel bad about the venom in your voice, or the way it causes Changbin to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, but you can’t find it in yourself to care at the moment. Something sick and dark twists around your stomach, and the battle to keep a deep scowl from your face is the only one you’re willing to fight right now.

“I have a feeling that was the wrong thing to say,” Changbin smiles wanly at you, and you meet his eyes for barely a second before you find yourself melting beneath his earnest gaze. The thorns around your heart ease just enough to bleed, and you shrug at him again.

“When people stay together just because they’re soulmates it only makes things worse.” you tell him, “Nothing gets magically fixed just because you’re soulmates.”

Surprisingly, Changbin agrees easily, “Well, yeah, that’s not the kind of sticking together I’m talking about,” He explains, “I meant more, like,” He gestures as he tries to find his words, and your heart positively aches as you realize the habit transcends languages.

You find yourself softening more and relaxing out of your defensive curl out of sheer endearment. You’re sure you’d be making absolute heart-eyes at Changbin right now if the topic at hand wasn’t so deeply uncomfortable for you.

“Ok, let me try an example,” He eventually decides, his eyes following your gaze where it had once again returned to his soulmark without your permission. He flexes a bit, making the flowers on his skin bounce and dance with a small, fond, smile. “I’m soulmates with the other members, right?”

He says it easily, casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You almost nod along, before you remember that the world at large definitely does not have that information, even if you do, and you meet his smug little smirk with wide-eyed shock.

You can’t help but gape at him for the casual confession, glancing around the empty gym like someone else might’ve heard Changbin’s brazen confession. He’s already waving you off before you can sputter out the questions stuck in your throat.

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it. It’s not like we try very hard to hide it.” He does a weird little half-nod-half-shrug motion at his soulmark, “But yeah, we’re all soulmates, and we all pretty much knew before debut, even though Innie’s mark hadn’t shown up yet.”

You do nod this time. Slowly, though, as you try to figure out where he’s going with this. Changbin takes it as permission to continue, and so he does.

“Well, Jeongin’s our baby, and even though marks show up at 18, you’re not an adult in Korea until 19, so there’s a lot we had to leave him out on.” He grimaces a little, “Being an Idol is stressful as it is, throwing a new soul bond and puberty and all that on top wasn’t very helpful. We were all volatile and fragile. But Innie definitely took it the worst. He felt left behind and unfair and angry with it all.”

He chuckles and gives a little shrug, “We had our share of knock-down, drag-outs.” He admits sheepishly, “It wasn’t an easy time for us.” He rolls his head toward the ceiling and, despite Changbin’s efforts, you can easily spot the smitten look on his face along with his cherry-red ears.

“But we made it through,” He says softly, “We took the time to dig into all of his insecurities and find what we could do to help him. He made the choice to be vulnerable and honest with us. It took time to get here, but we made it through.”

Changbin meets your eyes again, “That’s what I mean when I say soulmates are about choosing to stick together. You work through the hard times and disagreements together, work toward something better. Soulmates are destiny, but love is choice.”

You let his words rattle around your brain as you get lost in his earnest gaze. Let the idea settle into you like something entirely new, like it wasn’t your understanding of healthy relationships beforehand. Of course that’s the ideal, you know that. No one is perfect and all that, everyone disagrees sometimes. It’s discussing it and finding solutions together that makes a partnership work long-term. You know that.

For the first time, you wonder if you’d just always considered soulmates an exception to the rule.

You’d automatically assigned soulmates as a concept a failing grade at working their problems through. Your parents certainly never worked out their issues, and every soulmate you’d ever seen in the media was an automatic happy-ending. As soon as that bond snaps into place, the story’s over. Happily ever after.

You’d always thought ‘ever after’ must be an awful short time.

‘Love is choice’ echoes through you like something divine.

You break Changbin’s gaze and offer him a half-hearted shrug. “I guess.” you concede, “My soulmates probably have a lot of work cut out for them with me, though. So I still don’t know if they’d want me.”

“I think it’d be worth the work,” Changbin smiles gently at you, “To be your soulmate, I mean.”

You feel heat rush up your neck and bless your genetics for keeping it from showing on your cheeks. You disguise your bashfulness by lightly slapping Changbin’s shoulder (and woah is he solid under your hand when you do) and loudly complain about him being a flirt.

He responds by doing his best to fluster you, clearly enjoying putting those fanservice skills to use. You complain with every flex and smoulder, especially when he starts unleashing the aegyo, and the two of you let the banter and laughter chase away the somber mood.

Eventually you settle, and Changbin nods at the very intimidating machine you’d been staring at what felt like a lifetime ago now.

“Did you need a spotter?” He offers. You hem and haw for a moment, before sheepishly admitting that you need a teacher more than a spotter. When he lights up and offers to be that, too, you can’t help the way your eyes travel up and down his body with open admiration.

He certainly looks plenty qualified, and really, you’re only a girl. If your once-over leaves him with red ears and a smug grin, well. You’ll consider it your revenge for now.

You very quickly realize your mistake in letting him coach you.

Changbin tours you quickly around various machines, explaining their functions and the proper ways to use them to avoid injury. All well and good, and you ask permission to record short videos of him doing so in case you find yourself forgetting his advice, which he graciously allows on the condition you don’t share them anywhere.

You agree after negotiating for viewing rights for Taylor, with the reasoning that the lure of the videos might actually get your roommate back into the gym with you. It makes Changbin laugh enough to indulge you.

And then he actually starts you on a machine, after getting a rundown on what you’d already done today, and you experience hell on earth.

The thing is, he’s unfairly good at coaching you through it. He keeps up a steady stream of warm encouragement and light jokes even as you curse him out for steadily increasing the weights on each machine you work through. He’s right there to help you through the sets the moment you start to get too tired and is almost preternaturally good at pushing you to only just above your limits.

And his hands are always right there. He’s almost always touching you somehow, throughout the whole thing. His touch is light, coaching and clinical, and unfailingly polite. Still, the warmth of his skin through your flimsy gym-wear feels heavy. Nearly threatening. Distracting, at the very least.

You’ll definitely need those videos later.

It’s a relief when it’s over. You’re sore and sweaty and you have to go sit at a desk for six or more hours when you leave, which you’re very much not looking forward to.

Changbin splits with you to hit the showers, but somehow you still come together again before you pass reception.

“Thanks for today,” you say as the two of you stall your goodbyes, “I had a lot of fun. You’ve more than earned that guest pass.” you tease, smile wide and mischievous.

He’s smiling too, even as he shoves your shoulder and complains about you extorting him.

When you run out of things to say, you shuffle lightly in place. It’s not like you expect him to give you his number, he is an Idol after all, but still you can’t quite make yourself leave. You find yourself casting around for something, anything, to say to make the moment last. To stay in his presence just a second longer.

You shake yourself out of it once you notice. You might not be running from them anymore, but you certainly weren’t trying to make friends with your soulmates. The longer you stayed in his presence, the more likely it was that you’d end up with another first contact.

At last, after a far-too-long moment of silence, you hold out your hand and offer a flat, closed-lip smile.

“It was really nice to meet you, Changbin.” You tell him sincerely, eyes locked on his. You swear looking your soulmates in the eye is some kind of hypnosis, the way you always get lost in them when you do. Something about it just makes you feel a tiny bit dumb, like your brain gets switched off.

“You too, y/n.” He agrees, reaching for your offered hand. You only realize what you’ve just done as your name leaves his lips, your eyes widening as they dart down to his hand and yours, but it’s far too late.

Your breath hitches a moment before his skin makes contact with yours, and you watch it happen in slow motion. He grasps your hand and pulls you in instead of settling for the more distant and formal farewell. All too quickly you’re settled into his grasp, completely enveloped in him and dizzy with more than just his warmth as soft prickles dance up your side.

You feel more than you hear him gasp, his hold on you so complete. Your head ends up on his shoulder as you stumble into him from his pull, and you get a front row seat to the top of his shoulder filling in with outlines and shadows from your place tucked against his neck, dull colors adding a definition to the images in his soulmark and settling like they’d always been there.

Distantly, you feel chest tighten with completion, with satisfaction and something smug and proud at the sight, even as your mind starts screaming.

Changbin is solid against you, comforting and almost stiflingly warm from both his workout and shower. You catch a whiff of his soap, the scent muting the alarm bells blaring in your brain even as you lay limp against him with the shock.

And then his hold on you tightens just a bit, only for a moment, but it’s all that it takes for you to break.

Your breath begins to hitch, visions of sweet touches turning sour and threatening violence causing you to flinch violently in Changbin’s comforting embrace. You feel your eyes begin to wet as you start to struggle, needing out, out, out.

It must have been less than a second, but Changbin pulls back, still holding you by your shoulders like he doesn’t know how to let go.

“Y/n?” He asks, voice small. You can only shake your head, breaths coming out in harsh gasps, limbs trembling violently. Changbin hurriedly lowers the two of you to the floor, much more prepared than you are for your limbs to give out halfway down.

He finally releases you as you settle and you curl tightly into yourself. The places where he’d held you feel frozen now, the cold viciously settling into your bones, even as Changbin does his best to get your attention and guide you through a breathing exercise.

You can’t focus on him though, the sensation of flowers blooming on your skin overwhelming, the memory of his touch both welcome and suffocating.

“S- ‘orry, I’m-” You hiccup, “I’m so- so s’rry-” If Changbin is at all put off by your sudden breakdown, he doesn’t show it. He just tilts his head and offers you hushed words of assurance.

“Nothing to be sorry for, y/n,” he assures, “It’s alright, just breathe, ok?”

He offers you a hand and you can’t help but take it, the warmth startling a breath into you that you hadn’t been aware you needed. Changbin guides your hand to his chest, instructing you to breathe with him, and you automatically focus on the heavy thump of his heartbeat under your palm.

He keeps talking to you, trying to keep your attention, but your mind spins wildly away from you even as you finally manage a deep inhale under Changbin’s attention.

You need to tell him that you’d known since he’d first spoken to you who he was. Who he was to you, even, but you can’t open your mouth to do more than gasp another apology. You’re sure he’ll hate you, leave you there on the floor of the gym to die like you deserve, especially after all you’d told him about how you feel about soulmates.

He’ll hate you for putting his soulmates through rejection, for refusing to speak to them or even look them in the eye. He’ll leave you here, humiliated on the gym’s floor, and you’ll deserve it because you’re a horrible person who wouldn’t even give them a breadth of a chance because you were too damn scared-

A hand grasps your spare one, the one not touching him, not keeping you just barely above the waves of hyperventilating, and you hadn’t even noticed it scrabbling at the stretched out neckline of your t-shirt until it’s gently pried away and guided to a wall of firm muscle.

Your fingers instinctively grasp what’s suddenly underneath them, and your vision stutters back in as a soft tingling rockets its way up your arm.

You distantly acknowledge that it was probably a bad thing that your vision had faded off with your eyes stuck wide open, staring blankly at legs you couldn’t feel. Right now, however, all you can experience is Changbin. His mark under your fingers, grip clawing and desperate. His heartbeat under your palm, faster than it should be, but steady and loud and feeling like it’s part of your own body.

Like he knows he has your attention again, Changbin ducks down to catch your eyes. You find nothing in them but concern and a soft emotion you couldn’t hope to pinpoint.

“Y/n,” He calls softly, “Y/n, do you mind if I touch you?” The gentleness he speaks to you with is devastating, like he’s trying to place your panicked mind on a cloud of care. You want so desperately to accept that care from him.

You nod, small jerky movements to indicate your agreement even as gasping sobs still stutter in your chest.

Changbin immediately moves, shuffling closer to you on his knees and releasing the wrist of your hand, the one still grasping at his mark like it’d disappear if you relaxed so much as a millimeter. He uncrosses his arms from the awkward reach he’d had to use to maneuver your hands where he wanted them, and reaches his now free hand to rest gently but firmly on your waist, right over his place within your own mark.

The resonance from his touch is weaker, the material of your shirt in his way, but with both sides active the feeling floods you in a way you could never describe.

You know, in the back of your mind, that you’ve read about resonance before. That you know all about the flood of endorphins and other feel-good hormones that it causes, that you’ve read first hand accounts from all sorts of people swearing up and down it feels better than any orgasm ever could. In the moment though, you feel like your brain has been reset completely. Back to factory settings, entirely blank.

You come back to yourself in slow blinks, resonance still echoing brightly between you and Changbin. Your one hand is still tightly clasped to his chest, and you’re sure you’re only breathing right now due to the steady rise and fall of Changbin’s chest. The two of you are still gripping each other’s marks.

You feel unsettled as awareness returns to your body. You feel floaty and not all there, even as you calm enough to feel the numbness of your legs and the pain in your knees from hitting the floor. An increasingly familiar tingling feeling is emanating from each of your active soulmarks, despite the fact that you know the other two should have no idea how you’re feeling right now.

Your bond wasn’t strong enough for that. You hadn’t given it the chance to be.

The thought that they might just be thinking of you gives you a soft and fluttery sort of feeling.

Finally, Changbin pulls back, removing his hand from your mark and sliding up your arm to gently pry yours from his bicep. You’d wince at the marks your nails had left on his skin if you didn’t still feel like your bones were vibrating on the astral plane from the intensity of a reciprocal resonance.

He gently holds both of your hands in his and settles them between you, catching your eye again.

“You back with me, bubs?” He asks, smile light and tone even. You’d think him unaffected if not for the redness of his ears and the slight haze in his eyes.

Right. Eight soulmates. He’s probably used to it.

He’s also trying to get you down from a panic attack, you remember as your hands begin to faintly tremble in his grip. You nod slightly at his question, apologizing again.

“Hey, no.” Changbin scolds softly, eyes locked on yours, “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, it’s okay. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

You shake your head in refusal of both ideas, opening your mouth once, twice, three times, before huffing irritatedly at the lack of words falling from your lips. Changbin squeezes your hands to keep your attention on him, expression open and accepting. His silence allows yours to end.

“I just- It’s just that I-” You breathe harshly through your nose, squeezing his hands back to ground yourself, “I knew from when I realized who you were that you were my soulmate.” you grind out in halting words, the trembling spreading from your hands up to your chest. You take in a shuddering breath, “That’s why I was apologizing. Because I knew and I still said those things to you.”

You can tell your confession takes Changbin off guard. The man blinks rapidly as he takes in the new information, slotting your earlier behavior against your reaction just now and having trouble connecting them.

“Soulmates terrify me,” you confess quietly, before he can ask, “You’re so nice, but you’re so fucking scary to me, I’m sorry.”

With that, you remove your hands from his, and Changbin just sort of helplessly lets you go, a lost expression taking over his face. You try to stumble to your feet, and he scrambles up to help you, caring even through his confusion.

You can feel the trembling travel to your legs, and you’re glad for his steady hold despite yourself. You feel like a stiff breeze might knock you over.

“I need- I- I’ve gotta- argh!” You clench your teeth with frustration, taking a deep, bracing, breath, before trying again. “I need to go home.” You’d like to say it came out strong and self-assured, but the words leave you in a breathless whimper that makes you feel small and pathetic.

Everything about this makes you feel small and pathetic.

Changbin catches your eyes again, brows creased in concern.

Except for him.

“Of course, whatever you need,” He assures, “Can I call a car for you? A friend? Your roommate?”

You shake your head, hopelessly endeared by his need to help you. You feel guilty for refusing him when he’d just pivoted from the bombshell you’d dropped on him to focus on your care but you- you needed to go home. You needed to leave, and it was taking every ounce of effort you could spare to keep from bolting.

“No, I can- I’ve got- I want- shit.” The curse spills from you unbidden, frustration with the vestiges of your panic refusing to leave you building sharply. If anything, Changbin’s concern only grows deeper as you struggle to express yourself.

“I need to move, I’ll walk.” Your mouth finally allows you to spit out, almost aggressively. Changbin almost seems to despair at your declaration.

Looking at your own condition, you can’t blame him. Trembling like a leaf and barely able to speak, you’d never let yourself leave if you’d been in his place. You can’t spare the energy to explain that if anyone tried anything at you in this condition you’d probably try to kill them first and ask questions later.

You don’t handle stress well.

Still, despite his obvious reluctance, Changbin lets you leave his embrace.

You’re more stable on your feet now, and a deep breath fills you with a facade of confidence that will see you home. Changbin’s hands still hover around you, as if waiting for you to shatter apart again.

“If you need anything, please call me, okay? Anything at all, please call me.” He pleads with you. You only manage to give him another tiny nod before you dip into a full bow and turn to flee.

Changbin watches you go with a face full of concern and confusion.

‘I think it’d be worth the work, to be your soulmate’ he’d said. You can’t help but wonder, as the gym disappears behind you, if he still thinks that.

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strayingawayy · 1 day ago

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to love and be loved...

...the one where unrequited love is a bitch, but seungmin's there and he's warmth embodied

the world has always felt like an inside joke you were never let in on.

love, whatever that (bitch) meant, was a language you never quite learned to speak. you’d seen it in fleeting glances, in the way couples curled into each other on the campus lawn, in the tired smiles your mother gave you after a long day, in the way chan's eyes shined as he watched his drunk girlfriend blabber, in the silences between the notes of a tchaikovsky symphony... but you'd never felt it, not really. not in the way they wrote about in books or sang about in songs.

until her.

your best friend, your sun, your orbit. and for a while, you thought maybe this was it. maybe love was soft laughter in between classes and shared playlists and whispered secrets at 2 a.m. but then it started to hurt, like an ache that nestled itself into your bones and refused to leave. you wanted too much, more than what was yours to have. and you hated yourself for it and maybe you hated her too.

it was stupid. you knew it was. jealousy burned ugly inside you when she drifted too far, when she made plans without you, when she looked at someone else like maybe they were her orbit instead of you. you clenched your fists and swallowed it down, because what right did you have to feel this way?

and when you finally told her, when the words slipped out, raw and trembling, she had looked at you with those gentle, pitying eyes- and god, how you hated pity, especially on her.

“i love you,” she had said, “but not like that.”

it should have been enough. but it wasn’t.

so you did what you always did. you shut down. you built walls and sat behind them, watching as everyone you loved stood on the other side, too far to touch. within reach, just not enough.

---

"are you even listening?"

seungmin’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you blink up at him from where you’re hunched over your laptop, the words on the screen blurring into nothing.

"hmm?" you mumble, trying to sound present as you fiddle with your rings to ground yourself.

he sighs, leaning back in his chair with an exasperated look. "we’ve been working on this project for an hour and you’ve contributed exactly three words, and one of them was ‘ugh.’"

you offer him a weak smile. "it’s a very versatile word."

"yeah? so is ‘failure,’ which is what we’re gonna get if you don’t start helping." but his tone is lighter than his words, teasing in a way that feels like an invitation to breathe.

you roll your eyes, leaning back and letting out a long, tired sigh. "sorry, i’m just… tired."

over the past few months, kim seungmin aka the stupidly pretty infamous everyone's campus crush had begun hanging out with you. what started of as a fist bump after a successful group project blossomed into something more. and you'd be lying if you said you didn't find the sound of his footsteps after yours endearing. the way his shadow flickered besides yours during the late evenings you shared, the way his pupils only ever dilated when he saw either the campus dogs, or you.

seungmin watches you carefully, and something in his expression shifts. "like... physically tired? or existential crisis tired?"

you snort. "little bit of both."

"great, same." he nudges your arm with his elbow, voice softer now. "what’s going on?"

you hesitate. it’s easier to keep it all locked up, to pretend everything’s fine until it isn’t. but seungmin’s eyes are patient, steady. and something in you cracks, just a little and just enough.

"i just feel… exhausted. like i keep giving and giving and i don't even know if there's anything left." your voice wavers despite yourself. "and no one ever asks. no one ever sees it."

seungmin’s brows furrow, and then he says it, so simple it nearly knocks the air out of your lungs. "i see it."

you blink. "what?"

"i see it," he repeats, quieter this time, hands fiddling with his sweater paws. god, fuck his little sweater paws. "you try so hard to keep everything together, but you never let anyone in. not really."

your throat tightens. "that’s because it’s easier that way."

"easier for who?" he asks, and the silence that follows feels heavier than anything else.

you don't have an answer. or maybe you do, but it’s buried too deep.

he sighs, nudging you again, this time gentler. "look, i know you’re used to dealing with things on your own. but you don’t have to, y’know? not with me."

something in your chest stirs, unfamiliar and terrifying and you find the words slipping out from your mouth before you can stop them. "why do you even care?"

he smirks, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "i’m just hoping if i stick around long enough, you’ll finally contribute more than ‘ugh’ to this project."

you let out a weak laugh, and it feels... nice. lighter.

"besides," he adds, voice somehow even quieter now, "i care because it’s you."

your heart stumbles over itself.

---

time passes, like it always does. slowly, surely, the sharp edges inside you soften. your best friend's absence doesn’t ache as much anymore, and seungmin. seungmin, who never demands, never pushes, just is, starts to fill the spaces she left behind in ways you never expected.

you realise it one afternoon, sitting across from him in the library because somehow you're always in the library. it's easier to exist there with him, between books and silent breathes. he’s flipping through a textbook, his lips pursed in concentration, and it hits you all at once.

love, real love, doesn’t have to be loud or all-consuming. sometimes, it’s just someone who shows up. someone who sees you even when you don’t want to be seen.

you exhale, a soft, shaky thing, and reach out to touch his hand. just lightly.

he looks up, surprised but not unhappy. "finally contributing?"

you smile, and this time, it’s real. "yeah. something like that."

and when his fingers curl around yours, you think that maybe, just maybe, you’re learning how to be loved.

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strrykais · 3 days ago

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✩࿐࿔ behind the scenes

4. hope you and that pictured twink burn

previous | masterlist | next

authors note : sometimes i write this and im like.. this dynamic is so silly.

taglist : @yizhrt @fackeraccount @seungzsmin @tricky-ritz @puppyminnnie @gnabnahcbby @goldenmellow @grassbutneo @cait-with-luv @bookswillfindyouaway @galbiirocher @mystverse @estella-novella @to-toad @ssunglver @sunlix143 @realrintaro @my-neurodivergent-world @staytinyluv @amarecerasus @darlingz99 @sillygoosegoose @jeonginsbaee @livixcore @jeonginplsholdmyhand @dailyyhyvne @qveenbibi @skzbiasot8 @ayyonoona @hanniesbubuwife @nightmarenyxx @va1entinaa @dylanobr1ens @t-102 @hearts4hyunlix @nujeskz @weirdowithaphone @lknosemole @hityoulikebahng @amaranthlvr @gukuwii @vegetablesarefuntables @hanniemylovelyquokka @soaplickerrr @brbwritingfanfic @qwonyoung23 @katsukis1wife @ddroh @beeeepleplep @charlieg1rl @furfoxsake22 @niyalationz @jisungs-iced-americano

bold means i can't tag

reblogs, likes and replies are appreciated! feel free to send constructive feedback/thoughts in my asks!

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strawberriesoup · 2 days ago

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there’s always tomorrow ٠࣪⭑

── .✦ sometimes actions speak louder than words

genre: jisung x reader, established relationship, comfort, angst, drabble

warnings: none

wc: .5k

a/n: i’m a sucker for wordless support ok? also i was in such a bad writing slump so hopefully im on my way up! this was just a little practice drabble. i hope you enjoy!❤️

taglist: @jisunggy @holly-here @hannamoon143 @fly-you-dam-fools @hannieslittlerockstar

(if you would like to be added to my taglist, you can comment or message me!)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Three soft knocks at your door beckon your attention.

Getting up and opening the door seems too daunting of a task at the moment, so the best response you can conjure up is a grunt of affirmation. Or dismissal. Honestly, it could be taken either way. Your opinion is neutral on that subject.

You are certain if your vision wasn’t obscured by your arm you would be able to pair the soft click of the door opening with the image of Jisung, clad with a tense mouth and furrowed brows, peeking tentatively into the room. You make no effort to move your arm.

No words are spoken, but the soft padding of socked feet across the carpet speak volumes. He walks quickly but quietly, taking care not to step on the pile of clothes in front of your bed, or the broken alarm clock that rests under a suspicious dent in the wall.

His presence settles over you as he sets himself down on the bed. Close enough that you can feel the dip of the mattress but far enough so that you can’t feel his warmth.

You’re not sure how long you lie there, listening to Jisung’s steady whistles of breath. You know you could roll over right now and bury your worries in his embrace. The thought of his fingers carding through your hair whilst murmuring a gentle tune makes you briefly consider throwing yourself on him like some small child.

Before you can make up your mind, you feel a tap on your arm. A question.

Upon peering over the edge of your arm with eyes you’re quite sure are bloodshot, you are met with Jisung’s troubled eyes. A pang of guilt rockets through your stomach. You’re worrying him. Gaze mingling between your own, he searches for something, any sign of what you might need from him. You close your eyes, unable to face his concern.

Once again free from the prying eyes of the world, you relax your arm, and it falls from your face to the bed with a quiet thump.

A touch. So slight you might have mistaken it for a shift in the air. Fingers ghost up your arm and across your cheek, settling under your chin. Jisung presses his mouth to your temple, lingering for several moments before pulling back.

His touch is comforting and his kiss is warm, but all too quickly the sparks fade to the back of your mind, leaving the fog to settle once again.

Gathering up your willpower, you pull yourself onto your knees, looking up at him. You wonder if he realizes that he crinkles up the edges of his nose when he’s worried. Jisung’s arms spread open, offering you his embrace to which you retreat so often. Nothing can hurt you there.

You all but hurl yourself onto him, small, shaky breaths finally releasing from your lungs as he captures you between his arms. He folds himself over you, tracing circles across your trembling back, keeping your troubles at bay until you still beneath his fingertips.

Maybe it’s best to try again tomorrow.

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justastraymoa · 3 days ago

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Yet Unnamed

Chapter 3

Masterlist

Korean is in italics.

Warnings for Yet Unnamed: Kidnapping, cuffs, injuries, drugging by injection, mentions of needles, lots of swearing, kissing, fluff, angst, idiots in love all around.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

When you woke next, it was morning, and you were in Chan's bed. Well. Your bed. You could smell the unmistakable scent of breakfast foods.

Groaning through a stretch you were awake, but not ready to get out of bed yet. You were warm and comfortable. The mattress on this bed was so good!

Your muscles were sore from stress and using them to the max to fight off the kidnappers. The ache only making itself known after a hot shower and a good nights rest.

"Y/n! Breakfast's ready!" Someone shouted from outside the room.

You groaned again trying to decide if you were hungry enough to get up. Also weighing the odds of the others leaving you alone if you didn't make an appearance soon.

The second question was answered not even a full minute later when your door opened and a mass off messy blonde hair crawled into the bed next to you.

"Did you hear Lino?" Felix asked as he snuggled up to you.

"Mhm. Comfy." You grumble.

"I helped him." Felix revealed with a hint of pride.

You snort. "I remember your attempt at pancakes."

"I've gotten better since then. Been practicing." He whined. The sound made you giggle.

"Is everyone here?" You had met most everyone last night, but you were still nervous today.

Today there would be questions. And small talk. Getting to know each other and not knowing how to act around the other. Talking about the future.

Felix flung a leg over me. "Yah. Hyune and Lino are excited to officially meet you. Lino insisted on carrying you to bed last night and everything."

You blushed at the thought of THE Lee Know carrying you to bed princess style. Your head resting on his chest and possibly drooling all over him. You probably drooled on Felixs lap too. Ugh!

Eventually you both got out of bed.

"You are tiny." Lee Know stated as soon as he saw you.

You look down at your body. You were average height and weight. Overweight by Korean standards for sure. You wouldn't say tiny at all. "Um, thanks?" You weren't sure he meant it as a compliment, but generally being 'tiny' isn't a negative thing.

Lee Know handed me a plate of food. "You need to eat."

You shrugged not arguing. Breakfast is supposed to be the most important meal of the day after all. "Your food is very good." You complimented as you sat and started on your food.

You smirked as Lee Knows cheeks reddened tomato red. He rubbed his nose and turned away with a nod, not saying anything.

Hyunjin sat across from you with a shy smile. You smiled back easily, insides melting at how cutely shy he was being.

Felix sat near Hyunjin, picking at his plate of food instead of getting his own. It was oddly domestic and adorable to watch. And it must have been a normal occurrence because Hyunjin seemed to be moving bits of food closer to Felix for him to grab. Making sure he got a good mix of all the items available.

Everyone chatted idly as you ate but seemed to be giving you some space. You were thankful. Not awake enough yet for the world and its insanity. At the same time, you kinda felt anxious, like the moments before removing a band aid when you know its gunna hurt so you are clenched tight and psyching yourself up.

It was time to rip off the band aid. Proverbially. "I am sorry for kicking you out of your own home last night." You looked at Lee Know, Hyunjin, I.N, and Seungmin when you said this. Even if I.N and Seungmin ended up coming home early.

Hyunjin waved your apology off. "Don't worry about it. Lee Know and I had a wonderful date night." He smiled over at Lee Know when he said this, who had a soft look on his face.

That reminded you of one of your questions regarding this soul bond group. STAYS had theories of course, but neither JYPE nor Stray Kids have ever confirmed any relationships within the group. "So, you two are together?"

Hyunjin nodded and shrugged, mouth full of pancake.

"We are all kind of in an open poly relationship thing with each other." Chan tried to explain.

"We don't so much think about labels as much as being with who we want , doing what we want. What feels right in that moment." I.N helped out.

You nod in understanding. It wasn't unheard of in soul groups. Other famous people have described it as finding the person you needed in that moment. I.N was saying the same.

And it explains why they never confirmed relationships to the media. Honestly STAY loved it though. They could ship whoever they wanted, and they would be right. Even if they didn't know it for sure.

"Is that...is that okay?" Felix asked. He looked worried, studying your facial expressions for a negative reaction.

You smile. "Absolutely. I was just thinking that no matter who STAY shipped they would be right. And we go feral for ships."

"Are you STAY then?" Changbin asked. He was sat close beside you.

You thought about it. You were in kind of an odd position now. "Yes? I mean I was, you know, before. And I guess my love of your music and stage personas hasn't changed."

"And JYP didn't make anything any easier." Bin scoffed.

"He went about it wrong, but he was only trying to help everyone." Chan was trying to play devil's advocate so there wouldn't be a more hostile work environment than usual. It was understandable.

However, Bin was not having any of it. Chans words seemed to piss him off. He snatched my arm and thrust it towards Chan. "He hurt y/n! Kidnapped her, drugged her! Left physical marks on her!" He snapped. Even angry his grip on my arm was gentle, careful of the bruising.

Reminding himself of all this seemed to really upset him and Bin pulled you into his lap, arms around you loosely in case you didn't want to be there.

Your heart skipped about 7 beats and you could feel your face burn, but you didn't move to get off either. As odd and new as all this was, that place in your chest felt good whenever one of them was affectionate with you.

Instead of overthinking it you let yourself lean back into Bins chest, dragging your plate of food closer so you could continue eating.

"I know exactly what he did, Bin. And I said he was wrong. I only meant that his intentions were in the right place."

"Plus, I mean, he did bring y/n to us." Han pointed out.

"And because of what JYP did we almost lost her, and we have to keep her a hidden. Keep her tucked away like a dirty secret." Bin squeezed your middle tighter as he said this, his voice thinning as he talked about almost losing you.

Absentmindedly you rubbed his forearm in comfort. You couldn't exactly say he was wrong. You knew the consequences of anyone finding out how you got to Korea. The kidnapping would linger over the group for a long time.

The room was silent after this. The air thick with sadness and frustration.

"I really want to show you off." Felix mumbled. The broken look on his face squeezed your heart uncomfortably.

"Its not possible. Not right now." You reply into the following silence.

"Easy fix. We show you off! Screw what anyone says!" Lee Know snapped glaring at you.

I looked away. "What he did - how this started - it will always hang over our heads if we let it get out."

"It doesn't have to! You are making it!"

You knew he was lashing out in hurt, but you couldn't help the defensive anger building in your chest. You push away your plate and sat forward. "And when they question our soul bond? When it ends Stray Kids? Everything you have ever worked for. It's dangerous enough even keeping me hidden!"

The reminder of the consequences seemed to bring everyone up short. You don't think anyone really thought that far ahead. Didn't think of how the world and its harshness would tear apart everything they were everything you all were.

Chan took a shaky breath. "She is right. It would end Stray Kids, and we can't risk it."

Lee Know hit the table with his fist before storming off, a door slamming a couple seconds later making me flinch lightly in surprise.

Sighing and blinking back frustrated tears you pat Bins hand before standing up. "I'm going to go talk to him." You whisper.

"Third door." Seungmin responded.

You knocked on my door lightly, knowing everyone was listening. "Lee Know?" You called.

"Go away!" Came the reply.

"Do you really want that?" You would leave if he wanted, but for some reason you didn't think that was what he really, truly wanted.

There was silence before the door opened just enough for Lee Know to pull you in and shut the door again firmly.

You immediately had and armful of Lee Know as he wrapped around you and hid in your hair with a suspiciously wet sniff.

"Just got you and I don't want to leave you behind."

You rubbed his back gently. "I'm sorry, Lee Know. I can't be the reason all your hard work goes to waste."

"What's the point of it? It won't ever feel like we are whole when we are away!"

"You will still have each other. That will never change. And you will always come back to me."

"It hurts. Without you, it hurts. It's like you are the center - the heart of our soul group. And it hurts when you aren't with us."

You knew it hurt, you knew because even thinking and talking about them leaving you behind hurt. But there was no other way. Not until someone came up with a way to hide your origin story.

"You will get used to the hurt eventually. And you will be too busy while you are working to really notice it. It will become normal." Even if you never wanted it to feel normal. You never wanted to be left behind, abandoned all alone in this apartment. In this country and city you didn't know.

Lee Know didn't answer, just kept holding onto you, sniffing occasionally.

Your moment was interrupted by raised voices from out in the living room. Sounds of slamming and shouts in Korean muffled through the closed door you were behind. You pulled apart and glanced at each other before leaving the room cautiously. Lee Know took the lead, hand reaching back to keep you behind him and so he knew where you were.

What - or rather who - you saw made you wish you stayed in the bedroom.

JYPs nasty self stood in the doorway.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

A/N: I had originally planned on posting every Friday. However, I can already see that I am not going to stick to that.

Since this one is already written and all I am doing is typing it up and changing/adding things as I go, I am already up to chapter 7 being ready to be posted and it makes me itch to have them just sit them.

That being said, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and look forward to more in the future. (the near future most likely)

Yet Unnamed Taglist: @fackeraccount @velvetmoonlght @hyunjinstolemyheart @vampkittenb82 @happy-jj @estella-novella @demigoddreamon-blog @tiana-maxivar @ms-flowergirl @jennibahng @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @mimimiloomeelomi @simpforskz143148 @xxeiraxx @lil-bear08 @brbwritingfanfic

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm @velvetmoonlght

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ihave-atummyache · 2 days ago

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someone would have had to grab me by the back of the neck like a feral dog if i saw this kim seungmin in real life.

thats all i have to say.

GRRRR WOOOF WOOF ARF

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whatdoyouwanttocallmefor · 1 day ago

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Oh to be chosen by Soonie. What an honor. 🤧🤧

Feline Approval - Lee Know

How Soonie and Lee Know agreed you were the one.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft, golden streaks across the room. Lee Know stirred awake, his senses slowly tuning in to the world around him. The first thing he noticed was the warmth pressed against him – your back nestled against his chest. His arms were securely wrapped around you, his hold gentle yet protective. His lips quirked into a faint smile. He loved these quiet moments with you, where the world seemed to pause just for a little while.

Blinking sleepily, he nuzzled closer, the subtle scent of your shampoo filling his senses. Then something caught his eye. He craned his neck slightly to peer over your shoulder and froze, his breath hitching. There, nestled in your arms, was Soonie.

One of his beloved cats, usually aloof and particular about where he napped, was curled up peacefully against you. Soonie’s small, fluffy body rose and fell with each soft breath, his paws tucked delicately against his chest. His head rested on your arm as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Lee Know froze for a moment, his half-asleep mind trying to process what he was seeing. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, a wave of tenderness washing over him. His pets were like his children – precious, guarded, and fiercely loved. For Soonie to let down his guard and seek comfort in your arms meant everything to him.

For a long moment, he simply watched, his heart swelling with a mix of love and tenderness. The room was filled with a calm stillness, the golden light making everything feel surreal, almost sacred. He couldn’t decide what he adored more – the way you looked so peaceful as you slept, or the fact that Soonie had claimed a spot right there with you.

He gently tightened his embrace around you, careful not to disturb the little scene in front of him. His lips brushed against the nape of your neck as he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You stirred slightly but didn’t fully wake, only murmuring something incoherent. Soonie shifted in your arms, letting out a tiny, contented sigh, and Lee Know felt his heart clench. "Even Soonie knows you’re special," he murmured, more to himself than to you, his nose brushing against your shoulder.

For a man who often found it difficult to put his feelings into words, this moment spoke volumes. You weren’t just someone he loved – you were someone who had effortlessly become part of his world, someone his loved ones accepted without hesitation.

As he laid there, holding his little family in his arms, Lee Know felt a rare kind of peace settle over him. Tomorrow, there would be rehearsals, chaos, and the usual whirlwind of his life. But today, he had this – a moment of pure, unfiltered happiness – one he would treasure forever.

masterlist

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onlyforyoukook · 2 days ago

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No self control

paring: jeongin x fem¡reader

synopsis: Jeongin becomes obsessed with y/n after she transfers to his school, secretly stalking her and learning everything about her from afar. y/n starts to sense someone watching her but can’t figure out who. One day, Jeongin befriends her, using their newfound friendship to gain even more access to her life. While y/n feels safer with him around, she has no idea her trusted friend is the very person she’s been afraid of all along.

wc: 9.4k

genre: one shot, angst, yandere.

You feel like the air is heavier here, as if it’s pressing down on you every time you walk into the school building. Being new isn’t easy, but something about this place feels different. It’s not just the unfamiliar faces or the unspoken rules of the social circles—no, it’s something else. Something you can’t quite explain.

You glance around as you walk to class, clutching your bag tighter to your chest. Everyone seems busy, caught up in their own little worlds. But every now and then, you feel it—a strange prickling at the back of your neck, like someone is watching you. You try to shake it off, telling yourself you’re imagining things. You’re just nervous. That’s all.

But Jeongin isn’t imagining anything. He is watching you.

It started on your first day. You were sitting in the second row, your shoulders hunched like you were trying to make yourself invisible. Jeongin sat in the back, as always, his seat tucked into the corner of the classroom. From there, he had the perfect view of everyone—especially you.

You didn’t notice him that day, or the next, but he noticed you. He noticed the way you always arrived a few minutes early, sitting down with your hands folded neatly on the desk. He noticed how your gaze darted around nervously, like you were afraid to make eye contact with anyone. And he noticed the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were thinking, your fingers brushing your cheek.

At first, Jeongin didn’t think much of it. You were just the new student, someone different in a school full of faces he already knew too well. But as the days went on, he found himself watching you more and more. He told himself it was harmless, just curiosity. But deep down, he knew it was something else.

He started memorizing little things about you. The way you always chose the same seat in the cafeteria, even though it was near the door where the cold draft blew in. The way you frowned when you were reading, like you were trying to solve a puzzle. The way you smiled when you thought no one was looking, soft and fleeting, like a secret.

Jeongin began timing his day around you. He’d leave his house earlier than usual, just so he could see you walking to school from the corner of the street. He’d linger in the hallways, pretending to check his phone, just to catch a glimpse of you heading to your next class.

And then there were the evenings. Jeongin told himself it wasn’t strange to follow you home—he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He just wanted to make sure you were safe. That’s what he told himself every time he trailed behind you, keeping far enough away so you wouldn’t notice.

But you started to notice.

It was subtle at first—a feeling, nothing more. Walking home one day, you couldn’t shake the sense that someone was behind you. You turned around quickly, but the street was empty. Still, the feeling stayed with you, crawling under your skin.

By the second month, it was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just on your way home anymore. You felt it in the hallways, in the library, even in the cafeteria. But every time you looked, there was nothing. No one.

Jeongin was careful. He stayed hidden, blending into the background, watching as you grew more and more paranoid. A part of him felt guilty, but he couldn’t stop. The more he watched, the more he felt like he knew you—better than anyone else ever could.

He started to wonder what it would be like to talk to you. To sit beside you in class, to hear your voice up close. The thought scared him. What if you didn’t like him? What if you found out what he’d been doing and pushed him away?

But then he saw you one day, sitting alone on the bleachers after school. You looked so small, so lost, staring out at the empty field. Something inside Jeongin twisted, a mix of longing and something darker. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to get closer.

That night, he made up his mind.

Tomorrow, he would talk to you. Tomorrow, he would become your friend.

And you wouldn’t even know you were letting the shadow into your life.

The next morning, Jeongin wakes up earlier than usual. He’s never cared much about how he looks—usually, it’s just a quick brush of his hair and throwing on whatever’s clean. But today, he takes extra time in front of the mirror, smoothing out his shirt and trying different smiles. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous. He’s spent weeks watching you, learning every little detail about you. He knows exactly what to say, how to make you feel comfortable around him.

But as he walks to school, a strange sort of thrill courses through him. He’s never tried to get close to anyone like this before. He’s always been more of an observer, staying on the edges of things. But with you, it’s different. He doesn’t just want to watch you anymore—he wants to be a part of your life.

When he sees you that morning, you’re sitting at your usual spot in the classroom, your hands folded neatly on the desk. You look a little tired, like you didn’t sleep well. Jeongin knows why—you’ve been feeling uneasy, haven’t you? Like someone’s been watching you. He feels a flicker of satisfaction at the thought, but he quickly pushes it down.

“Hey,” he says, sliding into the seat next to you.

You glance up, startled. For a moment, you just blink at him, like you’re trying to figure out why someone’s talking to you. “Hi,” you say softly, your voice uncertain.

“I’m Jeongin,” he says, flashing you a warm smile. “I don’t think we’ve talked before. You’re new here, right?”

You nod, your shoulders relaxing a little. “Yeah. I transferred a couple of months ago.”

“Must be tough,” he says, leaning back in his chair like he’s completely at ease. “New school, new people… It can’t be easy.”

“It’s… okay,” you say, though your voice doesn’t sound very convincing.

Jeongin smiles again, and this time, it’s softer. “Well, if you ever need someone to show you around or anything, let me know. I’ve been here forever. I know all the best spots.”

For the first time, you smile back. It’s small, barely there, but it’s enough to make Jeongin’s chest tighten. This is it, he thinks. The beginning.

As the days go on, Jeongin becomes a constant presence in your life. He’s always there—walking with you to class, sitting with you at lunch, even helping you with your assignments when you’re struggling. He’s so easy to talk to, so understanding, that you find yourself opening up to him in ways you haven’t with anyone else.

You don’t realize it, but he’s wormed his way into every corner of your life. And while you’re starting to feel safer with him around, he’s still watching you from the shadows.

He knows your schedule by heart now. He knows when you leave for school, when you get home, and how long you stay up at night scrolling through your phone. He knows which drawer you keep your favorite sweatshirt in, and how you always leave your window unlocked, even though you’ve started checking it before bed.

Jeongin starts coming to your house more often—not as a guest, but as a shadow. Late at night, when the neighborhood is quiet and the lights in your house have gone out, he slips into your backyard. At first, he just watches through the window, his breath fogging up the glass. But then he starts coming inside.

It’s easy, really. The first time he does it, his hands shake as he pushes your window open, but by the second and third time, it feels almost natural. He moves through your room like a ghost, careful not to disturb anything.

He starts small—taking things you wouldn’t notice are missing. A hair tie from your desk. A pen you left on your nightstand. He keeps them hidden in a box under his bed, each item carefully placed like a piece of a puzzle.

One night, he takes your necklace. You haven’t worn it in weeks, so he knows you won’t notice it’s gone. Still, his heart races as he slips it into his pocket, the cool metal pressing against his fingers.

You don’t notice. You don’t notice any of it.

But Jeongin does. He notices everything.

One evening, as you’re sitting in your room, scrolling through your phone, that familiar unease creeps over you again. You glance toward the window, your chest tightening. It’s locked. You made sure of it this time.

Still, the feeling doesn’t go away. It clings to you, heavy and suffocating. You shake your head, trying to push it aside. Jeongin said you were safe, didn’t he? And you believe him. Why wouldn’t you?

Meanwhile, Jeongin sits in his room, the necklace you wore in his hands. He rolls it between his fingers, his mind racing. You trust him now. You’ve let him in, just like he knew you would.

But it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.

And as he stares at the necklace, an idea begins to form in his mind—something bold, something risky. But if it works, it’ll bring him even closer to you.

Closer than ever before. For now, he waits. But not for long. It happens on a quiet afternoon, long after you’ve started calling Jeongin your friend. The two of you are sitting under a tree in the school courtyard, away from the noise of the other students. He’s leaning back against the trunk, legs stretched out, while you sit cross-legged beside him, fiddling with a blade of grass.

It’s been a rough day for you one of those days where the weight of everything feels just a little heavier. You’re quieter than usual, your eyes fixed on the ground, and Jeongin notices. He always notices.

“You’ve been kind of out of it today,” he says, his tone light but tinged with concern. “Everything okay?”

You hesitate. Jeongin has been nothing but kind to you, always there when you needed someone. You’ve told him little things about yourself—your favorite books, the music you like, how you hate math but love history. But you’ve never told him why you’re really here, why you transferred schools and left everything behind.

You glance at him, his warm brown eyes watching you patiently, and something in his gaze makes you feel safe. Like you can tell him anything.

“I don’t talk about it much,” you say softly, your fingers still tugging at the grass. “But… my parents fight a lot. Like, a lot.”

Jeongin tilts his head, encouraging you to go on. “That sounds hard,” he says gently.

“It is,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “It’s like they can’t stand each other, but they won’t do anything about it, you know? They just… yell. All the time. At each other, at me. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

You pause, your throat tightening, but Jeongin doesn’t rush you. He just sits there, quiet and steady, waiting.

“So, I left,” you continue. “I begged them to let me transfer schools, to let me start over somewhere else. I thought maybe… maybe if I got away from them, things would get better. Maybe I could finally breathe.”

Jeongin’s jaw tightens ever so slightly, but his voice remains calm. “Do you think it’s helped? Being here?”

You shrug, your shoulders slumping. “I don’t know. It’s not as loud, I guess. But sometimes I feel like… like I’m running away, you know? And I don’t know if I’ll ever stop.”

“You’re not running away,” Jeongin says firmly, his tone surprising you. “You’re trying to find peace. That’s not the same thing.”

You look at him, startled by his sudden conviction. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he replies, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’re stronger than you think. Most people would’ve stayed and let it crush them, but you didn’t. You left. That takes courage.”

Your chest tightens at his words, and for the first time in a long time, you feel understood. You give him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Jeongin. I… I’ve never really talked to anyone about this before.”

“I’m glad you told me,” he says, his voice softening again. “I’m always here, you know? Whenever you need someone to talk to.”

You nod, feeling a warmth spread through you. For the first time since you transferred, the heavy weight you’ve been carrying feels a little lighter.

But what you don’t see is the flicker of satisfaction in Jeongin’s eyes. You trust him now. You’ve let him in, shared something no one else knows.

That night, Jeongin sneaks into your room again. He stands in the dim light, looking around at the space that feels more familiar to him than his own. His gaze lands on the small bracelet sitting on your desk—a simple piece of jewelry you’ve worn a few times but haven’t touched recently.

He picks it up, his fingers brushing over the beads, and slips it into his pocket.

As he turns to leave, his eyes fall on your bed. You’re fast asleep, your face peaceful, completely unaware of the shadow standing in your room.

Jeongin smiles to himself.

You told him you wanted to stop running, to find peace. And he’ll make sure you do. With him.

The next morning, you wake up feeling lighter, as though the weight of your confession had somehow melted away in the quiet of the night. Jeongin’s words stick with you, echoing in your mind as you get ready for the day. For the first time in months, it feels like someone understands.

At school, Jeongin is waiting for you by the front gate, his easy smile greeting you as you walk up the steps.

“Hey,” he says casually, falling into step beside you. “How’re you feeling?”

You hesitate, glancing at him. “Better, I think. Thanks again for yesterday.”

“Of course,” he replies, brushing it off like it’s nothing. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

Friends. The word lingers in the air between you, and for a moment, you think about how quickly Jeongin has become a part of your life. It’s strange, but comforting.

The day that follow feel lighter with Jeongin around. He makes you laugh when you’re stressed, keeps you company when you feel lonely, and listens when you talk about your struggles. He feels like the anchor you didn’t know you needed. But what you don’t know is that Jeongin’s watching you even more closely now. Your confession has only deepened his obsession.

Jeongin’s Room

Late at night, Jeongin sits in his room, surrounded by the little pieces of you he’s taken. Your bracelet is on his desk, next to the necklace he stole weeks ago. A pen with your favorite brand’s logo. A scrap of paper you’d doodled on during class, the ink faint but still visible.

He picks up the bracelet, turning it over in his hands. He imagines you wearing it, the way it would rest lightly against your wrist. It feels like a piece of you that only he gets to have. But it’s not enough. He wants more. He wants all of you.

The next afternoon, the two of you are sitting in the library. You’re working on an assignment while Jeongin pretends to do the same, his notebook open but blank. He’s watching you again, though you don’t notice.

You let out a small sigh, your pencil pausing mid-sentence. “I’ve been thinking,” you say softly, not looking up from your paper.

“About what?” Jeongin asks, leaning slightly closer to you. “About going back home. Maybe just for a weekend,” you admit. “It’s been months, and… I don’t know. Maybe I should try to fix things with my parents.”

Jeongin’s smile falters for a fraction of a second, but he recovers quickly. “Do you think they’d listen?”

You shrug. “Probably not. But I can’t avoid them forever, right? It’s… exhausting.”

Jeongin’s jaw tightens, though his voice stays calm. “If you think it’s what you need, then you should do it. But just remember, you don’t have to face it alone. I’m here.”

You glance at him, his words settling over you like a warm blanket. “Thanks, Jeongin. That means a lot.”

But Jeongin’s mind is racing. The thought of you going back, even for a weekend, sets him on edge. He doesn’t want you to leave. Not now. Not when he’s finally gotten so close to you. As the night quickly approaches Jeongin is back at your house, slipping through your window with practiced ease. He moves silently, his eyes scanning the room until they land on your desk. Your journal is there, the edges worn from frequent use. He hesitates for only a moment before opening it, flipping through the pages until he finds something that catches his eye. Your handwriting is neat but hurried, your thoughts spilling out onto the paper.

“I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, leaving them behind. But staying felt like suffocating. I wish someone would just tell me what to do.”

Jeongin’s fingers tighten on the page. He doesn’t need to read more; he already knows you better than anyone else ever could. And he knows what you need.

Him.

The next day at lunch, Jeongin casually brings up the idea of hanging out over the weekend. “You know, we’ve never really done anything outside of school. What do you think?”

You look at him, surprised. “Like… what?”

“I don’t know. A movie? Or we could just hang out at your place,” he suggests, his tone light.

You hesitate. “I mean, that sounds fun, but…”

“But?” he prompts, tilting his head.

“I was thinking about going home this weekend. I haven’t decided yet, though.”

Jeongin’s expression doesn’t change, but inside, he’s already coming up with a plan. “Well, if you end up staying, let me know. We could do something fun. Take your mind off things.”

You nod, giving him a small smile. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll let you know.”

That night, Jeongin goes back to your house. His movements deliberate and precise. He takes another item a keychain you keep on your bookshelf—and leaves everything else untouched. But this time, he does something different. He places the bracelet he took weeks ago on your desk, setting it down carefully where you’ll see it. When you wake up the next morning, you notice it immediately.

“That’s weird,” you mutter, picking it up. You’re sure you hadn’t seen it in weeks. Had you just overlooked it?

The thought nags at you as you get ready for school, but you push it aside. You have bigger things to worry about.

But Jeongin knows you’ll keep thinking about it. It’s a breadcrumb, a subtle reminder that he’s always been close.

The day before you’re going to go visit your parents, you and Jeongin meet under the same tree in the courtyard where you often sit together. The afternoon sun filters through the branches, casting soft light over the both of you.

“You’re really going through with it, huh?” Jeongin asks, leaning back against the trunk. His voice is calm, but there’s a faint edge to it, like he’s trying to keep something from spilling out. You nod, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Yeah. I figure it’s time to stop avoiding them. I don’t know if it’ll make anything better, but I feel like I owe it to myself to try.”

Jeongin studies you for a moment, his gaze soft. “That’s really brave of you, y/n I mean it.”

You glance at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks, Jeongin. I don’t know what I’d do without you lately. You’ve been… a really good friend.”

His heart skips a beat at your words, though his expression remains calm. “I’m just glad I can help,” he says, his lips curving into a small smile.

As the conversation drifts to other topics, Jeongin suddenly reaches into his bag and pulls out his jacket—a simple black one with a faint, comforting scent of cedarwood and something distinctly him.

“Here,” he says, holding it out to you.

You blink at him, confused. “What’s this for?”

“For the trip,” he says casually, though his eyes are focused on you. “I thought you might want something… familiar. You know, in case things get overwhelming with your parents.”

You hesitate, touched by the gesture. “Jeongin, I can’t take your jacket—”

“Sure you can,” he interrupts, his voice firm but warm. “Just think of it as a reminder that you’re not alone. Even if things get rough, you’ll know someone’s rooting for you.”

Your chest tightens at his words, and you reach out to take the jacket. “Thank you,” you say softly, pulling it into your lap. “That… means a lot.”

Jeongin just smiles, though inside, he’s practically buzzing. The thought of you wearing his jacket, carrying a piece of him with you, fills him with a strange sense of satisfaction. Later, when the house is quiet and you’re fast asleep, Jeongin slips through your window once again. This time, he doesn’t linger by your desk or admire the items he’s already taken. He heads straight for your closet, his eyes scanning the neatly hung clothes until he finds what he’s looking for.

Your sweater. The one you always wear on rainy days, the one that smells like you. He carefully pulls it from the hanger, folding it neatly before tucking it into his bag.

As he stands there, his eyes flick to your sleeping form. You’re curled up in bed, Jeongin’s jacket draped over the chair by your desk. A faint smile plays on his lips as he steps back into the shadows, his heart pounding with exhilaration.

The morning of your trip arrives, and you find yourself holding Jeongin’s jacket as you pack your bag. You almost leave it behind, but something stops you. The memory of his words how he said you weren’t alone lingers in your mind.

So, you slip it on. The fabric is warm, the faint scent of him wrapping around you like a hug. You glance at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the collar before grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

What you don’t know is that Jeongin is already watching.

From a distance, he follows you to the bus station, his hoodie pulled up to hide his face. He watches as you board, his eyes never leaving you. You’re wearing his jacket, and that alone makes his chest tighten with an odd mix of pride and possession.

He takes the next bus, keeping his distance as he follows you all the way to your parents’ house. When you arrive, he finds a spot across the street, hidden behind a tree, where he can watch without being seen.

You hesitate at the front door, your hand hovering over the handle. Even from where he stands, Jeongin can see the tension in your shoulders. You take a deep breath before finally stepping inside, the door closing behind you.

Jeongin stays where he is, his eyes fixed on the house. He imagines you inside, facing the people who’ve caused you so much pain. He doesn’t know what’s being said, but his mind races with possibilities.

Hours pass, but Jeongin doesn’t move. He waits, patient and silent, his gaze never straying from the front door.

When you finally step outside again, the sun is beginning to set. You look tired, your expression hard to read, but you’re still wearing his jacket.

Jeongin’s lips curl into a faint smile. You may have gone back to your family, but in the end, you’re still carrying a piece of him with you.

And as he watches you walk away, his mind is already working, already planning. You think you’re free, but you don’t realize that Jeongin is always there, just out of sight. Watching. Waiting. Because no matter where you go, you’ll always belong to him.

The walk back to your house feels heavier than usual. The sky is a murky gray, the sun buried behind thick clouds. You pull Jeongin’s jacket tighter around yourself, your eyes red and swollen from crying. Your chest feels raw, the words your parents had thrown at you still echoing in your head.

“Why did you even come back? You left us—don’t act like you care now.”

“You think running away makes you better than us?”

“We’re fine without you, so just go back to wherever you came from.”

Each word had cut deeper than the last, and now it feels like the world is caving in around you.

Jeongin follows at a distance, his hood pulled up, his steps silent on the pavement. He’d seen you leave the house hours ago, wiping your tears as you stormed out. Now, as he watches you walk, shoulders shaking and head bowed, something stirs inside him.

Anger. Not at you, but at the people who’d hurt you. The people who didn’t see how special you were.

He grips the strap of his bag tightly, his jaw clenched. They don’t deserve you.

When you finally reach your house, the sky has darkened, the first drops of rain beginning to fall. You fumble with your keys, your vision blurred by tears, and push the door open.

The house feels too quiet, too empty. You drop your bag by the door and sink onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as the sobs wrack your body.

Jeongin stands outside, the rain soaking through his hoodie as he stares at your window. He can see your silhouette through the thin curtains, the way your shoulders shake as you cry. It makes something twist in his chest—a strange mix of frustration and guilt.

He wants to go inside, to wrap his arms around you and tell you that it’s okay. That you don’t need anyone else, not your parents, not anyone. You have him.

But he knows he can’t. Not yet.

So he waits, standing in the rain, his hands clenched at his sides as he watches you fall apart.

You pull Jeongin’s jacket tighter around you, burying your face in the fabric. It smells like him—warm, comforting, safe. It makes you feel a little less alone, but it also makes you feel guilty.

You’d leaned on Jeongin so much lately, but you hadn’t really told him how much his friendship meant to you. He was always there, always understanding, and you weren’t sure what you’d done to deserve someone like him.

You wipe your eyes, your hands trembling. You make a mental note to thank him tomorrow.

The night feels endless as you cry yourself to sleep, Jeongin’s jacket still wrapped around you. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, replaying every painful word from your parents. Exhaustion eventually takes over, and you drift into a restless sleep.

In the middle of the night, you stir, feeling the weight of something heavy in the room. Your eyes flutter open, blurry from sleep, and for a moment, you’re not sure if you’re awake or still dreaming.

The faint outline of a figure stands near your closet. Your heart lurches, a cold wave of fear washing over you. The figure is holding something—your sweater.

“Jeongin?” you croak, your voice trembling as you sit up in bed.

The figure turns toward you, and your breath catches in your throat. It is Jeongin. His expression is calm, almost too calm, as he steps closer, the sweater still in his hands.

“Why… Why are you here?” you stammer, your voice shaking.

He tilts his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “I couldn’t leave you alone, y/n. I needed to make sure you were okay.”

Your pulse races, panic bubbling in your chest. “You shouldn’t be here. This—this isn’t normal, Jeongin.”

He takes another step closer, his voice soft but eerily steady. “You don’t understand, y/n. I’m the only one who cares about you. They don’t—your parents, they don’t see you the way I do.”

“Jeongin, please,” you plead, tears streaming down your face. “You need to leave. This isn’t right.”

He kneels beside your bed, his expression unwavering. “I’ll leave when you realize you need me, y/n. I’ll leave when you stop pushing me away.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, and just as you’re about to scream, the world around you blurs—and suddenly, you jolt awake, gasping for air.

Your room is quiet. Still. The faint sound of rain patters against the window. Your heart pounds as you glance around, your breath hitching when you see your closet. The door is shut, undisturbed.

It was a dream.

You clutch Jeongin’s jacket tighter around you, your hands trembling. The dream felt so real his voice, the look in his eyes, the way he seemed so sure of his words.

But it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

You shake your head, trying to push the lingering fear away. “It was just a dream,” you whisper to yourself. “Just a dream.”

As you lie back down, willing yourself to calm down, you fail to notice the faint footprints on the carpet near your window, still damp from the rain outside.

The morning comes with pale light filtering through your curtains. Your eyes feel heavy, your body sluggish from the restless night. You sit up slowly, glancing around your room. Everything seems normal now, though the dream still lingers at the edges of your mind, vivid and unnerving. You shake your head, trying to dismiss the uneasy feeling that creeps up your spine. It was just a dream, you remind yourself again, but something about it keeps bothering you.

After getting ready, you grab your bag and head out. The rain from last night left the streets damp, the air cool against your skin. You pull Jeongin’s jacket tighter around you, the faint scent of him oddly comforting despite the unease that lingers in your chest.

When you reach the courtyard, Jeongin is already waiting under the usual tree. He waves at you, his smile warm and inviting. Just seeing him there makes your tension ease a little.

“Morning,” he says as you approach, tilting his head to study you. “You look tired. Everything okay?”

You hesitate, clutching the straps of your bag. “I didn’t sleep well,” you admit, sitting down next to him. “I… had this weird dream.”

Jeongin raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “A dream? What kind of dream?”

You glance at him, unsure if you should even bring it up. But he’s always been someone you could talk to, someone who listens without judgment. So you take a deep breath and begin.

“It was about you,” you say, watching his reaction carefully.

Jeongin’s eyes widen slightly, but his expression remains calm. “Me?” he echoes, leaning in slightly. “What happened?”

“It was so strange,” you continue, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “In the dream, I woke up in the middle of the night, and you were in my room. You were holding one of my sweaters, and when I asked you why you were there, you said you wanted to make sure I wasn’t alone.”

Jeongin doesn’t say anything right away. His expression is unreadable, though there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something you can’t quite place.

“It felt so real,” you add, shivering at the memory. “I even thought I saw wet footprints on the floor this morning, but I guess I was just imagining things.” You let out a nervous laugh, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort.

Jeongin tilts his head, his gaze fixed on you. “That’s… an interesting dream,” he says slowly, his voice steady but quieter than usual.

“I know it’s ridiculous,” you say quickly, trying to brush it off. “It’s just… I’ve been so stressed lately with everything that happened at my parents’ house. I think my brain’s just messing with me.”

Jeongin nods, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Dreams can be strange like that. But you know,” he adds, his tone softer, “if you ever feel unsafe or alone, you can always call me. I’d come over in a heartbeat.”

His words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to respond. “Thanks, Jeongin,” you finally say, offering him a small smile. “You’ve been such a good friend to me.”

He smiles back, though there’s something behind it—something you can’t quite put your finger on. “Of course,” he says. “That’s what friends are for.”

But as you look away, focusing on the students passing by, Jeongin’s gaze lingers on you. His mind replays your words, his heart racing as he realizes just how close you are to the truth. He wonders if you’ll ever figure it out. And what he’ll have to do if you do.

The days blur together, and soon, the dream you had about Jeongin fades to the back of your mind. You convince yourself it was nothing more than your subconscious playing tricks on you, a side effect of all the stress you’d been under. Jeongin remains as kind and attentive as ever, his presence becoming an anchor in your chaotic world.

He walks you to and from school, sits with you during lunch, and even texts you late into the night, ensuring you always feel like someone is there for you. You’re grateful, genuinely so. With him around, the loneliness that used to weigh you down feels lighter.

But unbeknownst to you, Jeongin hasn’t forgotten. Not about the dream, and certainly not about the things he’s been doing behind closed doors.

Jeongin has grown more careful now. He knows your schedule like the back of his hand—the exact time you fall asleep, the way you toss and turn before finally settling, and the little sighs you make as you drift off.

He waits until the house is silent, the lights off, and the streets empty. Climbing through your window has become second nature to him now, the creak of the frame barely audible as he slips inside.

This time, he doesn’t go to your closet. Instead, his eyes wander across your room, searching for something more personal, something that will bring him closer to understanding every piece of you.

His gaze falls on your desk, where your journal sits tucked beneath a stack of notebooks.

Jeongin’s heartbeat quickens as he carefully pulls the journal out, his fingers trembling slightly as he opens it. The pages are filled with your handwriting, messy but endearing, each word revealing a piece of your inner world.

He reads about your struggles, your fears, and even the little things that make you happy—like how much you love the smell of rain or the way certain songs make you feel understood.

As he turns the pages, he finds an entry about him.

“Jeongin’s been such a good friend lately. I don’t know how I got so lucky to meet someone like him. Sometimes I feel like he knows me better than I know myself. I wish I could be as strong as he is.”

A slow smile spreads across Jeongin’s face. You’re thinking about him, writing about him. It feels like a validation of everything he’s done, everything he’s sacrificed.

But then he sees another entry—a more recent one.

“I had this weird dream about Jeongin. It felt so real. I don’t know why, but it’s been bothering me. I keep telling myself it was just a dream, but there’s this nagging feeling I can’t shake.”

Jeongin’s smile falters for a moment, his grip on the journal tightening. He reminds himself it was just a dream—you couldn’t possibly know. Still, the fact that your subconscious even came close unsettles him.

He closes the journal and sets it back exactly where he found it, making sure nothing looks out of place. His eyes scan the room again, landing on a small trinket on your bedside table—a bracelet you’ve stopped wearing, one he’s never seen you use.

It’s perfect. Small enough that you wouldn’t notice it missing, yet personal enough that it feels like a part of you.

Jeongin slips the bracelet into his pocket before casting one last glance at your sleeping form. You look peaceful, your chest rising and falling steadily, completely unaware of the storm brewing just feet away.

You wake up feeling refreshed, the tension from the past week finally starting to fade. You stretch and glance at your desk, grabbing your journal to jot down a few thoughts before school. Everything looks just as you left it, and you don’t think twice about opening it to a fresh page.

As you write, Jeongin texts you.

Jeongin: Morning! Did you sleep well?

You: Yeah, surprisingly! I feel better today. Thanks for checking on me.

Jeongin: Of course. Can’t have my favorite person feeling down :)

You: Lol, favorite person? Aren’t I lucky.

Jeongin: You are.

You smile at your phone, completely unaware of the bracelet now missing from your nightstand or the journal entry that Jeongin had read the night before.

At school, Jeongin watches you from across the courtyard, his heart swelling as you laugh with some classmates. The bracelet he took from your room sits in his pocket, a constant reminder of how close he is to you—even closer than you realize.

To him, it’s not stealing. It’s preserving. Keeping pieces of you for himself, ensuring that no matter what happens, he’ll always have something of yours.

But even as he watches you, his mind is already turning, already planning.

Because as much as you think you’re starting to feel better, Jeongin knows there’s still a part of you that’s holding back—a part of you that hasn’t fully let him in.

And he’ll do whatever it takes to change that.

No matter what.

As the days pass, you find yourself spending more and more time with Jeongin. The unease you once felt around him has all but disappeared. Instead, there’s a warmth, an undeniable comfort whenever he’s near. He’s always there when you need him—whether it’s a text late at night when you can’t sleep or a small gesture like bringing you your favorite snack during lunch.

You begin to feel things for him that you hadn’t expected. His smile makes your heart skip a beat, and when he talks, you find yourself hanging on every word. There’s a gentleness to him that draws you in, an unspoken kindness that makes you feel like you matter.

But despite the growing closeness between you, there’s something in the back of your mind—a part of your past that you haven’t shared with him yet. You’ve told him bits and pieces of why you transferred, about the fights between your parents, but there’s a deeper reason, one you haven’t found the courage to tell anyone.

The nights are the hardest, lying awake in bed with thoughts that swirl around in your mind, making it impossible to sleep. You think about Jeongin, and how much he’s come to mean to you in such a short time. He’s been there for you in ways no one else has, and you don’t want to ruin it by revealing too much, by letting him see the darker parts of you.

But the guilt weighs heavily on your chest.

As the evening falls, you and Jeongin are sitting on the steps outside your school, watching as the sun sets, casting a warm orange glow over the horizon. The sky is quiet, almost serene, and for once, you feel like everything in your life is at peace.

“y/n,” Jeongin says softly, breaking the silence. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. “I want to ask you something.”

You turn to face him, your heart picking up its pace. “What is it?”

He looks down at his hands for a moment, as if unsure how to phrase what’s on his mind. Finally, he looks up, meeting your gaze with a soft intensity. “I know we’ve been talking a lot, and I really value our friendship. But…” He hesitates, searching your eyes for something. “Do you feel the same way about me? I mean, more than just friends.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a split second, the world feels like it’s paused around you. You blink, unsure of what to say. You hadn’t expected him to ask something like this—not now, not so soon.

“Jeongin, I…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words.

“I don’t want to pressure you,” he adds quickly, as if sensing your hesitation. “I just want to know if maybe I’m not the only one feeling like this.”

Your heart beats faster, and you feel the weight of his words sink in. You’ve thought about him more than you’d like to admit, and the truth is, you care about him in a way you hadn’t expected. But there’s that voice in your head, the one telling you that you shouldn’t open up, shouldn’t let yourself fall too far.

“I… I do like you, Jeongin,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “But there’s something I haven’t told you. Something I haven’t told anyone.”

Jeongin’s eyes soften, and he moves closer, his hand gently resting on yours. “You can tell me anything, y/n. I’m not going anywhere.”

You look down at his hand on yours, your pulse racing. Part of you wants to tell him, wants to open up completely. But another part of you is scared—scared of what might happen if he knows the whole truth.

“Maybe someday,” you say quietly, pulling your hand away. “But not yet. I’m still not ready to talk about it.”

Jeongin doesn’t press you any further, though his gaze lingers on you with an understanding that almost feels too much to bear. “I get it,” he says softly. “You don’t have to tell me everything all at once. Just know that I’m here for you, no matter what.”

You smile faintly, grateful for his patience, but inside, you feel a storm brewing. The truth is getting harder and harder to keep locked away, and as much as you want to be with Jeongin, you know that keeping this part of yourself hidden will only make things more complicated in the long run.

As you both stand up, the evening air growing cooler, Jeongin pulls you into a gentle hug. You let yourself lean into it, the warmth of his embrace offering a sense of comfort that you haven’t felt in a long time.

But as the hug lingers, a part of you can’t shake the feeling that things are about to change. Your secret, the one that’s been haunting you for so long, is about to catch up with you—and when it does, you’re not sure if Jeongin will still be there.

And that fear—that fear—it stays with you as you walk away from him that night.

Later that night, as you lie in bed, your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You reach for it groggily, seeing that Jeongin’s text has just come through.

Jeongin: “Hey, I meant what I said earlier. If you ever want to talk… about anything, really… I’m always here. You’re not alone, y/n.”

You smile, feeling warmth spread through you despite the ache in your chest. You type back a quick response.

You: “Thanks, Jeongin. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you set your phone down, you notice something strange—a shadow flitting across your window. It’s brief, almost like a trick of the light, but it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

You shake your head, dismissing it. Probably just the wind. But as you close your eyes to sleep, the feeling of being watched doesn’t go away.

And deep down, you wonder if it’s your past finally catching up with you—or something much darker that Jeongin might not even know about

The days after that text from Jeongin were both peaceful and haunting. You found yourself growing closer to him with each passing moment, the connection between you deepening in a way that felt both safe and terrifying. His kindness, his understanding, made you feel like you could finally breathe—like, for once, you weren’t alone. But still, your past lingered like a shadow you couldn’t escape.

No matter how much Jeongin showed he cared, a part of you remained distant, trapped by the weight of a truth you couldn’t share. And the more time passed, the harder it became to ignore the creeping fear that something—or someone—was about to unravel everything.

It started on a quiet afternoon, the kind where everything feels normal, and you wonder if it’s possible for life to ever truly be calm. You and Jeongin were walking together after school, a routine you’d grown used to. He had his arm slung casually around your shoulders, the weight of his touch making your heart flutter.

“Hey,” Jeongin said softly, looking down at you. “You’ve been a little distant lately. Everything okay?”

You stopped walking, your eyes scanning the ground as your stomach tightened. Everything wasn’t okay. You could feel it—the tension building inside of you, the knowledge that your secret was no longer something you could keep hidden.

“y/n?” Jeongin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, his fingers gently brushing your arm to get your attention.

You looked up at him, and for the first time in a while, you felt exposed. Your breath caught in your throat. “There’s something I need to tell you,” you murmured, your voice unsteady.

Jeongin’s expression softened. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

You nodded, your heart hammering against your ribs. Can I really do this? You thought to yourself. But as his eyes searched yours with such genuine care, you felt the weight of your past threatening to crush you under its suffocating pressure. It was time to let it go.

“I didn’t move here because of my parents fighting,” you began, the words trembling from your lips. “That’s just part of it. But there’s more. There’s… someone from my past. Someone I was running from.”

Jeongin’s face shifted slightly, his brows furrowing in concern. “What do you mean? Who are you running from?”

Your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to continue. “It’s not just my parents. It’s—” You paused, swallowing hard. “I had an abusive ex. Someone who wouldn’t let go. Someone who… hurt me. I left because I had to. I didn’t want him finding me.”

Jeongin’s grip tightened around your shoulders, his face hardening with anger. “He hurt you?” His voice was low, almost menacing.

You nodded, the fear rushing back to you like a flood. “He never let me go. No matter how many times I tried to break up with him, he would show up, and he would… hurt me, Jeongin. That’s why I left. I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought coming here would help me start over, but I… I don’t know if I’m safe anymore.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the flood of emotion threaten to overtake you, the walls you’d so carefully built beginning to crack.

Jeongin stepped forward, his arms pulling you into a tight hug. “y/n, you’re safe now. I swear to you, no one is going to hurt you. Not as long as I’m here.”

You leaned into his embrace, feeling a brief moment of peace before the unease started creeping back in. It’s not over, you thought. Not yet.

That night, after a quiet dinner with your family, you returned home, your mind still racing. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong—something had changed. The air felt heavier, the silence of your house more oppressive than usual. You found yourself standing in the middle of your room, feeling a chill creeping down your spine.

You shook your head, trying to brush off the paranoia, but something was off. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and your heart began to race. You felt like you were being watched again.

And then you noticed it—the journal you had left on your desk. It was open. It had been closed when you left.

You approached cautiously, eyes scanning the pages. Nothing seemed out of place, yet there was this undeniable feeling of intrusion. Someone had been in your room. You knew it. But who?

Your phone buzzed, pulling you from your thoughts. It was a message from Jeongin.

Jeongin: “I was thinking about what you said earlier… about your ex. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I want to make sure you’re always safe, Y/N. No matter what.”

You smiled at his message, but the unease didn’t go away. You knew in your gut that whatever it was that had been watching you—it was still out there. You didn’t feel safe anymore.

You grabbed your phone, typing a quick response.

You: “I’m glad I have you, Jeongin. Thank you for being here.”

But just as you hit send, a sound—a faint tapping—came from your window.

You froze. Your breath caught in your throat. No, you thought. No, no, no.

You tried to shake it off, convinced it was just the wind, but your instincts screamed at you that it was something more.

The tapping came again, louder this time. You turned toward the window, your eyes wide with fear. You knew there was no one out there. But as you moved closer, your heart dropped into your stomach. There, pressed against the glass, was a face you never wanted to see again.

Your ex.

And as your phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Jeongin, your hands shook violently. You couldn’t look away from the face outside your window—the same face you thought you had escaped.

Jeongin: “Don’t worry. I’m outside, right now. I’m here.”

But before you could react, the face outside your window suddenly disappeared, and the darkness felt even colder.

And then, your phone went dead.

Your heart stopped. You weren’t sure whether you were shaking from fear or something much darker that was just beginning to unfold.

The silence in your room feels suffocating as you stand frozen in place, staring out the window. The darkness outside seems to stretch on forever, and for a moment, you convince yourself it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. But then—there it is again.

A faint tapping against the glass, followed by the shadow of a figure.

You back away slowly, your breath shallow, heart racing as you try to gather the strength to move. It’s too real, too tangible. That face. That face you’ve been running from for so long. The one person who has haunted your every step, lurking in the shadows of your life.

No, not now. Not again.

Your mind screams for you to move, to get away, but your body won’t obey. You glance at your phone, the screen dim. It’s dead. You curse under your breath, wishing you could reach Jeongin, wishing he could be here right now. You had just typed the message to him—I’m glad I have you, Jeongin. Thank you for being here. If only you could tell him right now what’s happening. But the phone is useless.

You turn to the door, instinctively reaching for the handle to get out. Maybe I can make it outside. Maybe I can escape before he gets any closer.

Your hands are trembling as you unlock the door, pulling it open just slightly, the cold night air rushing in. But before you can step out, you hear it—the unmistakable sound of a window creaking open.

You whip around, eyes widening as you see a figure slipping inside, a dark silhouette against the dim light. And then you hear the voice.

“y/n…”

The cold dread that washes over you is instant. You recognize the voice. The sickening, familiar voice of the man who has made your life a living nightmare. Your ex. The one you thought you had escaped.

A scream bubbles up in your throat as you stumble back, your heart slamming against your chest in terror. The man steps into the room, his eyes wild and gleaming with anger. In his hand, he’s holding a knife—shiny, gleaming under the weak light from your desk lamp.

“Did you really think you could get away from me, y/n?” he sneers, advancing toward you.

You back away, your mind racing, but your feet feel like they’re glued to the floor. Your body betrays you, paralyzed by fear as he inches closer.

“Stay away from me!” you scream, but it’s barely a whisper, choked by your panic.

He laughs, a low, menacing chuckle, and your heart skips a beat.

“You should have stayed with me, y/n. You should have never left. But I’ll make sure you never forget me.” His grip tightens on the knife, and he lunges toward you.

But just as his hand reaches out to grab you, the front door slams open, and you hear the rush of footsteps pounding toward you.

Jeongin.

You want to call out to him, to scream his name, but your voice catches in your throat. You can barely breathe as the man with the knife is upon you, his eyes wild with madness. You close your eyes, bracing for impact.

Suddenly, there’s a crash. A loud thud. A body slamming into the man.

You open your eyes just in time to see Jeongin wrestling with your ex, a surge of adrenaline coursing through you as you watch the struggle unfold before your eyes. You want to run, to get away, but you can’t move.

You see Jeongin’s hands clasp around the knife wielding arm, his face contorted in sheer desperation. “Get off her!” he shouts, his voice raw with anger.

But just as you think Jeongin has the upper hand, something happens—someone gets stabbed..but who?

“No!” you scream, but it’s too late.

MASTERLIST

pt2..??

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bouquet-of-flow3rs · 2 days ago

Text

Blood Lust

Chapter II

!pairings: Vampire!Ot8!Straykids x Reader

Genre: Supernatural AU, Angst, fluff, gore, MDNI!

!TW!: violence, mentions of SA, stalking (sort of), mentions of murder, death, lots of gore, blood, torture, BDSM mentions, consumption of blood, strangulation marks, MDNI. [Please let me know if I missed anything!]

[A/n: Sorry I haven't posted recently I was in an accident a few months back and I've been trying to focus on my mental health but I'm back and will hopefully post more soon I have some WIPS but yeah!]

“We can help you if you’d like. We can kill Park Sungwoo.”

The men in front of you say their voices holding no emotion as their eyes gaze into your soul. “You,” You breathe out, “Can do that?” Your voice is shaking and unstable, but your eyes are shiny as if you were a child who just woke up on Christmas.

“If that’s what you’d like.” One of them shrugs, but you turn your head downwards and stare at the rubber playground floor, “N-no I was just joking, that was a joke, I don’t want that.” You say, tightly clenching your fists, “But if we did do it, if we did kill him for you, it would make things easier for you, no?” One of the figures says you can feel their intense gaze on your shaking form, making you uncomfortable.

“We only want to help you.”

The man behind you speaks into your ear again making you shiver at the heat from his breath contrasting the cold winds that blow past all of you. “But why..?” You turn your head to gaze at the man with dead eyes. Even though you are so close to him you can’t see his face. There is a large shadow that covers the top half of his face exposing only his lips and chin, but you can still see small peeks of freckles dotting his pale skin.

“You clearly need help, if you don’t want us to kill the man we could help you escape. Would you prefer that?” One of the figures speaks up, It’s hard to tell who of the eight men in front of you is speaking seeing as they are all shrouded in the night's darkness.

“He won’t let me leave, there’s nothing you can do about it.” You whimper, eyes starting to gloss over again as you choke back tears, “I shouldn’t even be out right now I- if he finds me not at the house then-” You’re cut off by the man behind you pressing his body against yours and wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a back hug. “Don’t worry about that, just let us take care of it.” He whispers into your ear.

You freeze at his touch, your breath hitching, “Yeah right, even if you did help me run away or kill him I’d still owe something to you, wouldn’t I?” You breathe out whimpering as tears splatter onto the ground, the man behind you chuckles, “Well you aren’t wrong we do want something from you in exchange.” You crane your neck up to try and look at him, “What would you want from me?” You ask, “All you’d have to do in return is let us drink your blood.” He states casually, your face quickly turns to one of shock and disgust, quickly pulling away from him and spinning around to face him, “Are you all some sort of cult?” You ask in an uneasy voice wrapping your arms around yourself for comfort more so than protection.

The man from behind you takes short strides towards you, “I guess in a way it is something like that.” He hums, leaning down to take your hand in his, “But that’s not the case.” He smirks as he comes into the dim lighting of a nearby streetlamp,

He has pale skin dotted with constellations of freckles, shoulder-length blonde hair that shines even under poor lighting, and his eyes are a soft pink which puzzles you because that shouldn’t be possible. Still, even with his unique eye color, his looks are incredible, he has fairy-like features and he’s rather petite, he brings your finger up to his lips parting them. He drags your finger over his canines, “Why don’t you use that pretty-little head of yours to think of something a bit more outside the box.” He smirks, “You uh- cosplay?” You ask dumbly, making the man laugh and shake his head, “Use that imagination of yours.” he smiles showing off his sharp, pointed teeth, “You’re… Vampires…?” Your question, your face scrunched up in confusion at having to rack your brain for even the most outrageous possibilities.

“Bingo, you caught us.”

You laugh in disbelief pulling your hand away from him “Yeah right, and I'm the Easter Bunny.” You mock in a sudden moment of bravery. The blond man pouts, his brows furrowing at your response, “He’s telling the truth.” Another one speaks up. “Alright prove it then.” You challenge them, you figure the worst they can do to you would be nothing compared to the ‘punishment’ you'd receive from Sungwoo if you were caught outside of the house without his permission.

The blond perks up at your challenge, “alright, sure” he accepts before pointing over to a closed shop across the street from the playground, you look at him expectantly and in the blink of an eye he's somehow managed to appear across the street before suddenly reappearing in front of you.

You freeze, ‘there's no way there has to be an explanation to how he made it there and back so fast’ You think to yourself, you feel frozen in place like a bucket of ice was dropped over you, your eyes are wide and your breathing becomes uneven, the man takes a step closer to you forcing you to take small steps away from him ‘Think [Y/n] how can you get away from these men… How can you stay safe?”

“Don’t be scared, we won’t hurt you.”

Another one of the men steps forward from the shadows and into the dim lighting, this man is taller than the blond with a lean build, smooth milky-white skin, with deep ruby red eyes so dark they could almost be mistaken for black, and unlike the blond his hair is a jet black quite the contrast to his friend but they are similar lengths. He radiates an elegant aura and is very poised and confident as he approaches. He smirks at the frightened look on your face and your frozen stiff body. You gulp as you watch him make his approach toward you “So do you believe us now?” He smirks

‘If they are really vampires, why bother helping me…’ you think to yourself “You said you'd help me, so long as I let you drink my blood right?” You question, and they nod at you, “Then why bother with me when you could drink anybody else's blood for free, what's special about me?” You follow up your previous question, “Simple,”

the blond speaks up.

He takes long strides towards you, before leaning down and taking your small hand in his larger one, his fingers delicately holding your hand dragging it up to his face, you can feel his smooth skin graze your fingertips as he slowly moves your hand trailing up from his throat to his face. You shiver as your wrist makes contact with the point of his nose, feeling his warm breath tickling the skin of your wrist, your breath hitching as a moan leaves his parted lips, you can see his eyes roll back his long lashes fluttering as his eyelids close and his knees buckle before he finally finished his answer.

“You smell unlike anything we've ever encountered before ”

You can hear your heart beating through your ears as your face involuntarily flushes as his reaction. You finally clear your head to think straight about their offer ‘a group of vampires who can kill Sungwoo for me… As long as they can drink my blood.” You shakily take in a shallow breath of air, ‘How is this even possible, unless, no they have to be lying there's no way.’

“So what do you think?” One of the figures speaks up, and you flinch, ‘There’s no way this is real, I must’ve been knocked out by Sungwoo..’ you mentally shake your head in disbelief.

In reality, you stare at the floor with no emotions on your face like an empty book. “You do have someone you want us to kill, no?” The voice speaks again, and you can sense his intense gaze on you as you contemplate the idea.

Your lips part before snapping shut, you swallow a thick glob of spit and clench your free hand. ‘Maybe they really can help me..’ You raise your gaze from off the rubber flooring of the playground and stare at all the men in front of you, you have a determined look, scrunched-up eyebrows, and a cute pout on your face.

“All I’d have to do is let you drink my blood?”

You whisper towards the men, “And after you do,” You swallow again out of nervousness, “You’ll kill Park Sungwoo for me?” you ask, your eyes are now glossy with fresh unshed tears but the serious look on your face has yet to disappear. ‘It doesn’t matter what they are, as long as they keep their word and help me.’ You decide.

You remove your hand from the blond's hold, his fingers gripping down on your hand before finally releasing you, you inhale quickly closing your eyes, and hold your hand out to the remaining six men within the shadows. You can hear a few of them chuckle before they make their way out from the dark and into the poor lighting of the street lamp.

They are all handsome, each with unique features. The one who steps up to take your hand is a well-built man with dark-black curly hair that is short compared to the other two you've met thus far, he has heavy eyes that are a dark shade of blue, and a wide nose that you find all too attractive, he too has rather light skin but he is just a hint tanner than the other two you’ve seen.

“So all we’ll have to do is kill this man for you and in return, you’ll give us your blood, that all sound correct to you?” He asks, his cold hand intertwined with yours in a formal handshake, “Yes.” You state determination laced in your unsteady voice.

The man smirks before he brings your hand up to his plush lips like the blond had done earlier, but instead of swiping your finger over his teeth, he brings it between his upper and lower teeth before biting down, puncturing a small hole into your finger, “Ah~” you groan out, It hurts a little but it also feels strange. You think to yourself as he begins to swirl his tongue over the new cut on your finger collecting the small drops of blood before he takes your finger deeper into his mouth and moans at the taste of your unique blood.

The reason Chan and his coven had even approached you on this chilly night was ‘cause they had smelt your sweet blood and had to know where the erotic smell was coming from, and that’s when they had found you, sitting on the swings all alone late at night, clearly roughed up.

They could smell your blood and how much of it was seeping from your smooth skin, and even worse than being able to smell the bloody state you are in they could very clearly see the print of large hands wrapped around your neck formed in a dark reddish-blue color along with some smaller bruises surrounding it that looked much like hickeys. They could tell something had happened.

Chan is busy sucking on your finger eyes half closed as they roll back, he slowly removes it from his mouth with a wet pop, a string of his saliva connecting the two of you, he has an erotic expression painted on his face as he savors the last remnants of your blood left on his tongue and again moans at the sweet taste.

Your face is flushed at the scene that just took place, you quickly hold your hand close to your chest, “W-what was that about?” You squeak out.

Looking down at the cut you notice it's gone “Wait, what happened to the cut?” You ask, still staring at your finger in amazement, He chuckles, grabbing ahold of your hand and swiping his wet, soft tongue over where the cut was, “Well, our saliva has healing properties so our prey doesn't bleed out on us.” He says leaving one last swipe of his tongue to your finger. “Woah, But seriously what was that about?” You pull your hand away once more.

“Well, you did say we could have your blood.” The blond shrugs his shoulders, one of the men who has adorable chubby cheeks and reminds you of a squirrel whines, “Hyung that's no fair I wan’ some of her sweet-smelling blood too.” He pouts, but you quickly shake your head and take a few small steps away from the men ‘Can they even be called men?’ you wonder to yourself but shake away the thought.

“Nobody else gets to until after you kill Sungwoo for me.” You madly blush, your finger feels tingly and hot, almost a numb feeling, and when you look down at it the small puncture is nowhere to be seen, you're positive he poked a hole there but looking at it now it's not there, it's so strange to think his spit really made it disappear as if it never even happened.

The squirrel-like man pouts even more at your words and grumbles under his breath but accepts it, he too is pretty with black hair as well but he is more of a jet-black with a hint of blue as an undertone that reaches the back of his neck in length his eyes are a unique burgundy brown color which is mesmerizing to you.

“Well since we’ll be helping each other I think we should get to know each other.” The man who shook your hand earlier speaks up clapping his hands together, “Okay,” you nod, “I’m [L/n] [Y/n].” You introduce yourself albeit a bit warily, “I’m Chan.” He introduces himself and you bow your head toward him. A lean man, with very dark purple hair, speaks up next “I’m Minho.” He introduces curtly bowing his head to you but even as he does so you can feel his sharp gaze on you, his eyes match his hair with their purple hue.

Another strong-looking buff man with black hair and teal streaks speaks up “I’m Changbin.” He says to you with a small smile on his face, “I’m Jisung.” The man who was pouting earlier smiles at you and you return it, a man with puppy-like eyes approaches you “Hi [Y/n] I’m Seungmin.” He too introduces and the last boy approaches you, he has long black hair with streaks of platinum-blond at the front which sort of reminds you of an Oreo.

“I’m Jeongin.” He too smiles at you. “The two you met earlier were Hyunjin and Felix.” The blond one who you assume is Felix waves and smiles at you with his fairy features, and Hyunjin smirks at you making you blush ever so slightly, “It’s nice to meet you all.” You say bowing to the eight men.

“Well then [Y/n], how would you like us to help you with Sungwoo?”

Chan asks a sadistic grin on his face that makes you shiver at the sight. His grin reminds you of the face Sungwoo makes at you and it sends you into a small panic but you quickly try to compose yourself.

“I’m not sure.” You answer with a frown on your face, Chan hums and takes steps toward you “Would you like for us to decide then?” He asks, leaning close to you and tilting his head.

You look down at the floor away from the proximity of the two of you and slowly nod your head, “Alright then.” He smiles before turning around and facing his men, “We’ll be in charge of disposing of the pest bothering [Y/n] So,” He claps his hands together again,

“Let's get going.” He says a dark twisted smile appearing on his face.

Sungwoo wakes up to the sound of pattering feet in the apartment, he groans and reaches over to his bedside table and grabs his phone checking the time to see it’s merely 5:30 in the morning, “God dammit [Y/n]..” He exhales before stretching in his bed and getting up.

He makes his way out of his room and down the hallway to the kitchen which he finds is empty, but before he makes his way to continue his search for you he notices that your shoes are missing from their usual spot. He goes to open the door but before he can he hears a clatter of noise coming from down the hall.

He makes his way down the hallway and to your room at the end of the narrow hall, taking notice that the door is ever so slightly ajar, and peeks in only to see you sitting on your unmade bed.

He shifts his eyes around the room but sees nothing out of the ordinary, no packed bags or anything you could have done to make so much noise so he decides to push his way into your room.

“[Y/n] There you are, I thought you had run away for a minute there.” He laughs, a fake soothing smile plastered on his face that makes you feel sick to your stomach.

You sit there watching him approach you with a dead look on your face, you give off no emotions and simply sit there “Park Sungwoo.” You whisper. His grin widens as he hears you whisper his name, “That’s me,” He grins wickedly, “I heard some loud sounds coming from your room care to explain, hm?” He asks, trying to act cute and less intimidating. Truthfully he’s hoping to use you again, you certainly seem pliant enough for him to do something to you now.

God he can't help but think of you all tied up, rope tied around your body all pliant and waiting for him, you'd look so cute with a black blindfold over your eyes, calling out to him as he watches you wiggle in your confinements.

“I’m sorry for what I did last night but you needed to be reminded of who you belong to.” He says in a mock apology.

“You know how much I hate punishing you but since you did such a good job taking it last night why don’t I give you a treat, yea?” He asks, pouting his lips at you and pretending to coo at you.

As he takes another step toward you he finds himself staring up at you from off the ground, finding he can’t move.

“What the hell! [Y/n] What’s going on?” He yells at you, but you only continue to sit there on the bed staring down at him, “I wouldn’t worry about her right now mate.” A voice calls out.

Sungwoo can feel the floor thump beneath him, a set of footsteps walking over to where he’s sprawled out on the floor.

He looks up and sees a man staring down at him, his face void of any emotion except for an icy glare. The man above him sneers, “I can’t believe something as pitiful as you was being such a pest to poor [Y/n], You don’t deserve to even look at her.”

“Who the hell are you?” Sungwoo shouts, twisting his body every which way to try and wiggle free of whatever was holding him down. “Ew, you’re right hyung, whatever this vermin is it’s disgusting.” Jisung appears beside Chan and scrunches his face into a disgusted sneer at Sungwoo.

“Why the hell are you all in my house, [Y/n] did you let them in? Fucking bitch!” Sungwoo angrily spits out, turning his fury to you.

A scream is ripped out of Sungwoo as he feels his limbs twist in ways that shouldn’t be humanly possible. He can hear the sounds of cracking and popping as his limbs move on their own, breaking his bones.

He shifts his eyes to look up and sees eight pairs of eyes staring down at him each with a matching sadistic grin to go with them.

Sungwoo turns his gaze to you with a pleading look on his face “[Y/n], please help me!” He begs hot tears streaming down his cheeks “I said help me you fucking slut!” He yells his face red with rage when you don't immediately move to help him. Your hands twitch and you have to hold yourself back from wanting to help your abuser because even with the help of these eight strange men you're worried he'll manage to get his hands on you and try to drag you down with him.

“Did she sleep with you guys? Is that it, she's convinced you to get rid of me with that cunt of hers.” He scoffs trying his hardest to provoke these men.

You sit there staring down at the man who has tortured you for years begging for you to help him escape the pain when you've experienced a feeling similar to this for years.

“Please, please! I don't know what I did, but stop, I'm begging you!” Sungwoo wails at the burning feeling of his limbs twisting. His words and actions doing complete 180’s trying different tactics to be set free.

Chan stares down at the squirming man at his feet, he takes a step forward and steps on his fingers using the full weight of his body, he can hear them crunch and crack under his leather boot.

“Such filthy hands,” Chan wrinkles his nose at the wailing man, “Chan just get it over with,” Minho rolls his eyes as he takes a step closer to him, Chan looks around to see the others agreeing with him, “come on hyung~ Hurry up I don't know how much longer I can hold off.” Jisung whines walking over and sitting next to you

“Ha! Please, even in death you'll never get rid of me [Y/n], No matter what happens you'll be stuck with me!” Sungwoo screams at you as Chan crouches down and runs his long, sharp black-painted nails across Subgwoo’s neck.

He gags at the feeling of Shape nails cutting through his skin, feeling the hot crimson blood drip from his sliced neck, and gurgling on it when it spills into his mouth. His eyes roll to look at you, blood slipping through his parted lips.

Your breath and heartbeat speed up as you catch his gaze, you feel sick as you watch a twisted grin smear onto his face, his eyes turning to crescents and his once-white teeth stained red. The eight men back away from him as he takes shallow breaths finally releasing him from the invisible restraints.

You can't see anything other than the lifeless body of Sungwoo, his last words ringing through your ears, your bloodied and scabbed back throbbing with a scorching heat like you can still feel the dull knife carving his name into you.

You stare as Chan slits his wrist with his nails nice and deep letting his blood drip onto Sungwoo's body, you watch as the others follow his lead and do the same thing letting their blood spill into his lifeless body, “What are you doing?” Your hoarse voice questions them, a few turn their heads to look at you before Minho speaks up, “Well, Vampires burn in the sun, and so does our blood.” He shrugs as if it were common sense, “So when the sun rises you'll open the blinds and he'll burn up?” you question back, “Smart girl.” He chuckles, his smooth voice sending shivers up your spine.

“Alright, now all we have to do is wait.” Chan says, you don't pay much attention to the words he speaks instead focusing on the wound on his wrist closing up as if nothing ever happened. Chan follows your gaze and looks down at his now wound-less arm, there's still small drops of blood pooling around his veins but the cut that once was there is nowhere to be seen.

“Ah, yeah, we can hurt ourselves all we want but there are specific conditions that need to be met if we were ever to die.” Hyunjin shrugs watching the small looks between you and Chan before looking down at his own healed wrist.

You're not sure how to respond so you hum and watch as he pulls a handkerchief from a pocket and wipes the dried blood from his arm before handing it around for the others to use, “So~ can I have some of your blood now?” Jisung bounces onto the bed springing you up and pulling a gasp from you, you fall back in the bed and he lays back next to you resting his head on his palm, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Oh uhm, now?” You ask your eyes flitting away from the pouting man, “mhm!” He nods a wide smile curving his lips, you sit up just enough to see Sungwoo’s body, his head still turned to face you, his soulless eyes staring blankly at you, “C- can we wait,” you choke, “I just- Not yet.” you whisper out, he watches your face twist into sad and fearful mix making his eyebrows furrow.

He grunts before sitting up and looking to see what you're looking at, noticing it's Sungwoo he stands up and makes his way to the body on the floor, stepping so close that the blood that's pooled on the ground splashes when he steps in it, his face scrunches up at the sight of his shoes stained with red, but he ignores for the moment crouching down and turning Sungwoo's cold and stiff head away from your direction before standing back up and giving the body a good kick and making his way back to you.

The others watch the interaction between the two of you and of course, the bastard that Jisung kicked in amusement, Chan directing an adoring smile towards Jisung.

Ji makes his way back to you and once more flopping onto the bed making the mattress bounce under his weight sending a smile your way, “How ‘bout now?” He asks, you let out an amused breath at his sweet act, “Ji don't push her.” Changing scolds, Jisung pouts at his words “I'm not,” he whips his head towards you, “am I?” He asks his brows creased in concern, his big doe eyes sparkling at you.

You're not sure how to respond, yes he's being pushy but the look he's giving you makes you want to let him have anything he could ever want, but you've long since learned that looks can be deceiving, back in high school you thought Sungwoo was an angel and to be fair he never gave you a reason to believe otherwise until after your confession when he swept you away and forced you to stay away from the rest of the world, constantly monitoring who you talked to and where you went, “Well.” you start but pause, still unsure, you look down and stare at your fiddling hands, “You can say no to him “ Someone speaks, shocking you out of your thoughts, “Oh uhm.” “Don't worry about saying no, even if we have a deal if you don't feel comfortable with him doing it right now say no.” Minho states firmly his cat-like eyes boring into your wide ones.

“I’m sorry.” You breathe out clenching your hands worried they'll be mad at you or even hurt you for not wanting to let him drink from you just yet, you know they said that their saliva could heal whatever they inflict on you but your brain just can't help but think that if you say no they'll hurt you.

You're once again pulled out of your thoughts this time by someone taking your hands into theirs, you notice you left small crescent shapes cuts on your hands from your nails, Felix quickly lifts your hands to his mouth leaving small licks to the cuts making them disappear, “look the sun's out.” Seungmin points out walking over and opening the blinds to let the sunlight in, you watch as the light slowly crawls up the floors, all the boys avoiding it as it makes its way past them to Sungwoo.

You watch as his body begins to smoke, letting out a soft smile you can't help but feel happy it's over, watching his body go up in small flames, “We should go before people start waking up or before it gets too bright out.” Chan says, walking over to the exit of your room, the others following his lead, Jisung hopping up from the bed and turning to you offering his hand.

“Come with us.”

He smiles, and you look over to the others seeing them smile at you and nod, you hesitate before placing your hand in his cold one, he lifts you off the bed and ushers you to the exit with the others.

You watch as they make jokes together and talk walking behind all of them, you pause halfway through the hallway looking over your shoulder for one last look at Sungwoo, you shiver at his body his head turned to face where you stand in the hallway his body still smoking and ashes flying in the air of the sunlit room, you finally feel free of the shackles he forced onto you.

Sighing in relief that you will no longer be a prisoner to him, you walk away no longer worried about your future.

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