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seosracha · 9 months ago

Text

HEART DEFENDER──────

౨ৎ⸻niki x fem!reader

⸻ synopsis, Nishimura Riki was truly and honestly, your sworn enemy, and everyone knew. You two shared lots of things, a friend group, academic rivalry, and most importantly school popularity. Receiving tons of confessions and notes on the daily from your fanboys and fangirls was nothing new. So you can't help but be shocked when he asks you to be his fake girlfriend for that same reason.

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, highschool au

pairing: popular-footballplayer!niki x popular-fem!reader

wordcount: 11.5k !

tags: underage drinking, foul language/swearing, niki is an asshole, own characters included, y/n and niki are unrealistically popular but bare with me pls, jay is called a pervert😭, kissing

authors note! this was written for my beautiful babygirl , and it was also her idea so props to my pookie yall!!!😛 also no proof read so sorry for any errors!!

A GENTLE HEAT falls onto the silk bed sheets, as a flickering blue light washes over the room, a sound waking you up from the dreamy state. You still had a hard time settling into the new reality that eloped you just a few days back. The summer was over, and so we’re all the exciting things you hadn’t been able to do.

Although you didn’t mind, it brought you comfort to keep your body and mind active. You don’t like to mull over the fact that something is over, because that never brought it back, choosing to focus on every minute that was yet to come.

Maybe that was exactly the reason you’ve become so popular amongst the male population of Alpine High-school, students swooning over your exquisite beauty, tall, well proportioned figure and beautiful mind. Some looks were only hungry for popularity and full of lust, but amongst all, you also found people who truly wanted to know you, and find out what was underneath the pretty shell.

Some would call it cliche, to only stick around people who held the same status as you, or shared a similar popularity rank, but you truly never intended for that. Having two of the most popular students in one team, automatically makes the entirety of the group more desirable and unattainable. You never had control over any of these things, but you’d also be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel even more special.

Your phone vibrates, Song Eunseok’s name displayed on the screen, messages filling up your home screen every second. You smile lightly and press one of them to shoot him a quick reply, preventing him from spamming you with keyboard smashes.

Song Eunseok was one of your best-friends. He was there when others weren’t, and he was always the one to help you endure any pain in life. He was like a bandaid, keeping you safe from any infectious disease but also helping ease the pain, even if it didn’t feel like it at first. The affection in his tone, his words glowing with secrecy and honesty every time he spoke to you, that’s exactly what made him so notable to your heart.

Kim Hana was also one of those people to you. Eunseok was good to you, but he’d never be able to substitute for a girl best-friend. You never treated Hana as a second option though. She wasn’t even a month older than you, but wiser than most. Hana always knew what to say or do, she was like a compass to you. You knew you could never lose her, or else you wouldn’t know which direction to walk towards. Still, behind the smart and intellectual facade, was a joyful and bright girl, who had the most infectious laugh you knew. Her smile was adorable and words of affection- comforting.

Park Sunghoon was also a member of your clique, recruited by Jake who swam alongside him on the school’s swimming team. You’ve never been really close to him, he was more of a friend to you when others were around. That didn’t mean you didn’t care for him though. Sunghoon was different, he was very secretive and smart. He didn’t ever try, but always succeeded. He wasn’t flashy about it either, keeping most of his success to himself.

Jake, who recruited Sunghoon, used to be your best-friend. You grew up with him, just like in every childhood best-friends movie, the two of you did everything together. Just like you, he moved out of his home country in his early years, which was one of the many things you had in common and could empathize about. You decided to go to the same highschool, following the promise you made in 4th grade; that you’ll always stick together. The reciprocation brought you a feeling of comfort and safety, at first you didn’t mind when he started getting closer with Nishimura Riki because you trusted him. You trusted him enough, and turned a blind eye enough until your once best friend wasn’t yours anymore.

You tried to ignore the low pain it gave you, small weebs formed in your mind as you tried to justify Jake’s behavior, arguing that he still speaks to you so kindly. You were still in the same group together, spending most of your days together and laughing sweetly at the smallest things. But instead of calling you, he’d call Niki, instead of hanging out with you on the weekends, he’d hang out with Niki and instead of inviting you as his plus one to events, he’d invite Niki.

That’s exactly why you hated Nishimura Riki, the last member of the seemingly ‘popular kid’ clique you formed.

Niki was equally attractive and popular as you. He embodied a typical, bookish bad-boy character, the smitten look on his face winning girls hearts over every time. He was also a member of the football team, already earning a full ride scholarship for his sports successes. He was already an intelligent boy, but a free entry to college was nothing he’d deny. He was vastly athletic, but always dreamed of going to university. Niki may not have looked the part, but he truly was much more ambitious than many would guess.

He didn’t have many reasons to hate you, but the sole fact that you were unbeatable, the first rank in school always alongside your name. He always stood proudly next to you on class president election day, but always ended up getting hurt when once again, you were chosen. Everyone loved you and even though he had his fair share of fans, he could never compare.

So the satisfaction that taking away your best-friend from you brought him, was enough to console his damaged pride. It was enough to compensate for his stolen spotlight.

You both had reasons to hate each other, and never even considered talking it out, even if you shared a friend group. Passive aggressive comments, and sarcastic remarks were enough to satisfy yours and Niki’s mind.

___________

Niki, with his fair share of popularity, couldn’t get away from constant love letters clogging up his locker, or girls' heartfelt love confessions. With the face of an angel and skills of a child prodigy, it was inevitable in some way. Those same girls were the reason for his incredibly and annoyingly large ego.

“Niki!” the brunette caught his attention with her squeaky and high pitched voice.

He turned around to catch a glimpse at her, only to find her with a pink glittery box in hand. Niki could sense another thought out, insanely touching confession coming his way.

“Do I know you?” he asked, trying his best to not make a rude face at the girl. At the end of the day he was the it-boy at his high-school, and had an image to upkeep.

“You could get to know me. We have chemistry together!” she replied happily, completely neglecting the fact that his reply itself was a bit rude to begin with.

“Is that supposed to be some sort of pickup line?” Niki chuckled, running a hand through his hair as his shoulder fell to his right. He leaned on the lockers trying to remember the girl he was speaking to.

She pulls at the fabric of his blazer, a frisky look on her face “It could be if you want it to be”

He felt his body tensing up, a wave of uncomfort speeding through his veins. He was used to girls shoving themselves onto him, but why couldn’t he be viewed as an equal to them? Just because he has stolen many women's hearts, didn’t mean he didn’t want to be treated with dignity and respect.

He could feel a bead of sweat trickle down his spine as the unknown girl pushed her body closer and closer. His white shirt started to suffocate him, feeling the box she had in her hands press against his stomach.

He could barely read the name Oh Jia off the girl's name tag, before backing away, making her stumble a little bit.

“Don’t you think you’re getting a little too comfortable, Jia?” he asked.

She took a deep breath. She thinks of the many nights she’d seen the boy infront of her standing proudly with a confident smile as he pulls her closer to his body. She is taken aback by the difference, wondering how she could've gotten so easily deceived by her own head to fall for such a fabricated version of Nishimura Riki, She had swooned over the cover, just like many girls before and after her.

This was one of the many daily confessions the boy would receive. Some happened to be much more friendly and cute, even making Niki’s heart a little warmer. Some students just liked to test his limits, see how easy he can actually be. He hated that. He hated not being treated like a human being but rather a school attraction they all got to take turns trying out.

Although you were sworn enemies, the similarity between yours and Niki’s experience love wise, was undeniable.

“What is my pretty girl doing all alone? Where did all your friends go?” Hyunsik, a member of the student council, asked with a flirtatious tone stopping you from getting to your history class.

“Yours?” you questioned with a calm voice, having an idea of who Hyunsik was.

He smiled, wondering why you always played so hard to get. He was gorgeous, so what was your problem to just give into his warm embrace?

“Don’t be like that” he answered, using his hand to push a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

You felt so incredibly uncomfortable. You had known Hyunsik for some time now, as the class president you did have to consult on important issues with him.

“What do you mean, Hyunsik?” you asked, a wonky smile on your face as you tried to give the boy a sign that you weren't interested in him.

“You know what I mean. C'mon Y/n, you don’t have to play so hard to get. We could have fun, I’d make you feel so good and happy” he confessed, his stance radiating confidence which was unbreakable.

He was attractive, but his personality and ego completely erased any chances of scoring a date with you or many other girls.

“I’m interested in someone else” you answered, backing away from him.

“You always say that, yet you're still single” he said, offended by your relectuance.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business though, Hyunsik. I have to go now” you said, not letting him say anything else.

This wasn't the first time boy’s just assumed you’d be easy like that. Just like Niki, you hated it. You didn't mind the confessions, as long as they were kept cute and respectful. You hated being mean, and these situations just forced it out of you.

__________

“Why don’t we call Minjun over here, you’ve been hanging out with him a lot, right?” Hana asked, turning to you. She shuffles to grab her phone, but you stop her.

Niki rolled his eyes at her words, not in the mood to stubbornly try to keep a civil conversation with Minjun. Kim Minjun was a member of the football team, and the number two placeholder in school. He really was handsome- slim face and a defined jawline, dark thick hair, eyebrows not touched once but seemingly shaped by Aphrodite herself, captivating siren eyes that made you fear eye contact, and lastly plump cherry lips. You could go on about Minjun’s beauty for days and not get bored of the topic.

He notoriously fought with Niki for the team captain position, and although never achieved it, still managed to be disliked by Niki. They had a visible rivalry. While Niki tried to beat Minjun for second place, Minjun tried to beat Niki for the team captain spot. The passive aggressive remarks only made it worse, but for the sake of the team they kept, or at least tried to keep it civil.

It reminded you of your friend group. You always tried your best to hide your deep rooted hatred for Niki around everyone, for the sake of their peace. The difference was that Niki never tried. He couldn’t bear a minute without making a sneaky and rude comment towards you. In some way it made you feel better about yourself, knowing that you're mature enough to not bother your friends with your private issues.

“He’s probably with the team” you answered, and she pouted at your response.

“He wouldn’t want to sit with Miss Perfect here, anyways” Niki snickered, poking at his lunch uninterested in what he saw on the metal tray. The pork cutlet seemed awfully indigestible today.

“I think you’re more so the problem” Hana defended, knowing you wouldn’t probably respond to him.

“It’s not like Minjun is perfect, c'mon. He’s an annoying, selfious fuckboy” Jake said, in an attempt to clear Niki’s name.

But why couldn’t he defend you? Did he really dislike you that much?

“He really isn’t though” you responded, and Jake seemed taken aback by your change in demeanor.

It almost looked like he felt entitled to say anything, but you had no right to respond to him unless you weren’t agreeing with him. Maybe that was what was left after your friendship of 10 years, the entitlement.

“Of course you’d say that, because you probably want him like all his other fangirls” Niki smirked, and pushed away his tray.

“Dude, leave it. Can we just have a peaceful lunch period for once?” Sunghoon spoke up, looking up from his English notes.

He usually never said anything whenever these tense situations happened. Sunghoon kept quiet, listening in on the meaningless words leaving your mouths.

“I’m gonna go” you rose from your chair, and picked up all your things. Hana tried to stop you, but her attempts were useless, as you gave her a small smile and left the table.

“Well, I will too then” Niki announced trailing right after you.

He walked towards you, a stupid look displayed on his face. You hated that you didn’t have any power over him, letting him treat you like this for no good reason.

“If you want to continue telling me how awful Minjun is, I really suggest you leave it, cause I’m not going to change my mind” you turned to him, as he stopped next to you by the lockers.

“I just want to get some books from my locker, can’t I?” he tilted his head, and smirked evilly when he saw your annoyed look.

Another thing you hated was having a locker right next to his. Whoever assigned them, must truly despise you. Or potentially pray for your downfall.

He just scoffed at your lack of interest, and started to rummage through his pocket for the small key to his locker.

As soon as both of your locker doors opened, a swarm of notes and pink, red or purple little envelopes fell out. Some were cutely decorated, with adorable glittery stickers, some just a simple paper ripped out of the author's notebook.

You two looked at each other confused. You knew Niki was popular, and Niki knew you were popular, but not to this extent.

It wasn’t an issue, for a long time, but as comical as it sounded this was starting to get annoying pretty quickly. Sometimes the both of you wondered what made you so special, what made you stand out so much. Was it the academic success that no other student seemed to achieve yet? Maybe it was the physical tasks that you conquered without breaking a sweat? Or was it just your appearance that was unique among all?

His mind was rushing, but one idea came out on top of the bubble of thoughts.

______

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Niki” you laughed at his absurd idea, wondering if Jake is somewhere recording this secretly.

Niki can’t yet tell if you’ll buy it or not. The silence sinks into his skin, as the imprisoning walls surrounding you seem to close on him. Did he really just say that out loud?

“Listen, we can just pretend to un-hate each other or something, and then date. It’s all fake, obviously. Do you think I’d want someone like you to be my girlfriend?” he responds. “We can’t tell anyone though”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” you mumble, and he chuckles.

“Oh please don’t tell me this is about Minjun?”

You look at him annoyed. Why does he suddenly care so much about your relationship with Kim Minjun?

“And what if it is?” you roll your eyes, turning away from his tall figure.

“He doesn’t care about you, Y/n. Can’t you just agree, we both get something out of it” he says, exasperated.

He reaches for your small shoulder, turning your body in his direction. He holds you while silence embraces the both of you. The sun subtly shines through the small window of the equipment room, illuminating his face, a sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you.

“What is in it for me?” you ask quietly, the moment between the two of you, making your heart beat faster.

Niki softens at the concern in your tone.

He knew you liked Minjun, everyone did, but this much? Did you really care for that douchebag? Did you lay on your bed at night, your thoughts always coming back to Kim Minjun? What did he do to steal your cold heart so easily?

“An empty locker, that’s for sure” he lets go of you “And assholes like Hyunsik won’t annoy you anymore, isn’t that enough?” he adds, his tone laced with confidence.

“You know about Hyunsik?” you ask curiously.

He stifles a sharp inhale, realization hitting him.

Did you think he cares? He doesn’t. He couldn’t care less.

He tries to calm his unsteady nerves, preventing himself from saying anything that could damage his uninterested approach to your person even more.

“Eunseok told me,” he answered quickly, his gaze turning to the small window.

You never told Eunseok.

You never told anyone cause this wasn’t something abnormal. Yes, maybe Hyunsik was a bit forward about it, pushing himself onto you, but you just forgot about it after some time.

“Alright’ you clear your throat “Let’s do it”

Niki feels an unfamiliar warmth in his heart, trying to stifle the excitement that took over his body when he heard your words.

“But what about our friends, Niki? Do you seriously think Sunghoon or Jake are that stupid?” you ask

It floods him again; the comfort of his name passing your lips, and he doesn’t know why. He’s never felt this way.

“Hana is a hopeless romantic, she’ll believe anything if you slap a ‘boyfriend’ label on it. Eunseok and Sunghoon don't care anyway, and Jake? I’ll figure it out” he answers, his voice so calm “Everyone else will just believe it as long as we make it believable” he proceeds cautiously, putting emphasis on the ‘we’.

“I don’t get not telling our friends, honestly” you murmured, looking around the room.

He sighed “No offense to Hana, but she’s the biggest blabbermouth I know” he confesses.

You agree internally, not wanting to admit it, too proud of your friendship with the girl.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow” he says after a moment of tranquility, leaving the room after he finishes his sentence.

You watch him step out and leave you alone with all the thoughts and worries.

______

And so he did pick you up.

You wondered if Niki had cleaned up his car for you, remembering the mess last time you were in it. Probably not though.

“Let’s go,” he said, keeping the door open for you.

He grabbed your hand tightly, pulling through the crowd of students gathered in front of the building. Some had a stupid look on their face, wondering how the two of you could ever be dating, some didn’t even budge.

Your chest swells with a torment of emotions, as you feel his warm, wrought hand grip yours. Pride, confusion, determination swarm through your veins, making a mess of your head. You press your knuckles to the warmth of your cheek, flustered by the looks you were receiving.

Your eyes scan the whole building, trying to find Minjun, worried what he’d say when he finds out. You never wanted him to think you were just playing with him, and by the looks of it, that’s exactly what he was thinking when his eyes spotted yours.

A sad look of disappointment decorated his face, as you passed by, holding Nishimura Riki’s hand so tightly.

You screw your eyes shut, chest rising and falling rapidly. You want to tell him everything, you know you could. But there was a boundary you promised to not cross, for yours and Niki’s peace.

“This is bullshit” Sunghoon raises his eyebrows, as the two of you appear in front of all your friends.

“The assignment you wrote for my physics class was bullshit, and I didn’t say anything. This-” he says pointing to your intertwined hands “This is for real, the real deal” he adds proudly.

How long has he been acting?

“When did all of this happen?” Hana asks excitedly.

You didn’t like agreeing with Niki, and even though it was sad to a degree, Hana really was gullible.

You smile “We just started talking, I guess. It really happened naturally”

How long have you been acting?

“But weren’t you just fighting last week? And I thought you had a thing for Minjun?” Eunseok asked. He wasn’t supposed to care.

“No, no, Minjun is just a friend” you answer after a moment.

Niki was surprised at your lack of hesitation, no signs of nervousness.

“Well congrats then. I’m happy for you guys” Jake smiled, and his acknowledgment meant the world to you.

You couldn’t not care for him after all this time spent together. You wished you didn’t care about what he thought, what he was up to, because it was no longer your place to ask or wonder.

“I hope Minjun doesn’t feel sad” Hana ponders, her soft heart melting for the boy.

You laugh at her kindness, but deep down you know she’s right “I doubt. I think I made it clear to him that I’m not interested” you reply in an attempt to calm her nerves.

“I hope so, he’s really a good guy” she mumbles, a look of frustration on her face.

You wonder why.

“He isn’t but whatever” Niki professes, a disgusted tone lacing his voice.

Eunseok laughs “One day anniversary and he’s already jealous”

You never expected them to be so gullible, to fall for such a fabricated lie, but here they were laughing and making jokes about the two of you. It was hard to lie to your friends, especially Eunseok and Hana, but something in your head kept convincing you that this was indeed a good idea.

“You should’ve made a big reveal at the game” Hana acknowledges, a sweet smile on her face as she imagines herself in your position. “Our school would win, everyone cheering you on and then boom- you run up to Y/nnie and kiss her” she tells, a twinkle to her eyes.

Niki laughs, and this time it seems genuine. He likes the thought of that, but can’t quite figure out why. Air is taken out of his lungs as he imagines carefully taking your jaw in one hand, and pressing a sweet kiss to your soft lips, as everyone cheers him on for leading the team to yet another victory.

He can’t be thinking straight.

“That’s a little bizarre don’t you think?” Sunghoon asks Hana, remembering watching something similar with the girl.

Hana shakes her head, and he just chuckles at her persistence “I’m just giving him ideas, subtly”

“Very subtle” Niki answers, and she winks at him.

“Are we still on for the after party at yours?” Eunseok asks, turning his head towards Jake who seems to be totally out of it, as he hurriedly copies Sunghoon's chemistry homework.

“Yeah, yeah. No matter if we win” he mumbles, devoted to a completely different world at the moment.

A small smile forms on your face. You would definitely hold Niki tight, making sure no girl pulls him out of your grasp for a quick seven minutes in heaven. It’s all fake, though. Nothing more than just a pact between two sworn enemies who want a little more peace in their life.

“Even if we lose, we still need to celebrate a good game” Niki smiles, and Eunseok smiles at his attitude.

“With a captain like you my guy, we ain’t never losing” Eunseok winks at Niki, receiving a small laugh and bow from the boy.

You felt guilty. This was the first time in a while when everything felt so gratifying and free amongst your friend group. With the constant fighting and teasing you never seemed to notice the charming dynamic between everyone. It felt like all along the both of you were the problem, and maybe your friends accepted this suspicious relationship so quickly, because it meant they got to experience moments like this once again.

“What do these fucking hieroglifs say, I can’t decipher this shit” Jake grunts with frustration, as he pulls the notebook closer.

Sunghoon laughs and tries to carefully explain every line of text to Jake.

Maybe you were too focused on your own problems with Niki to notice that this is what could’ve been of your friend group.

____

You and Niki seemed to get closer as time passed.

The both of you didn’t even notice it, the barrier between you passing by like a breeze. It came all so naturally, and you never knew you’d have so much in common with the boy you swore you hated.

You would accustom him to his practice sometimes, and he’d proudly show you off to all his teammates. The lines between faking it and being truthful have faded by now, confusing your heart a little. But just a little. Because at the end of the day it was fake.

“I think it’s time you pay me back,” Niki said, a mischievous smile decorating his face.

You looked at him with a confused expression “For what exactly?”

He smiles, and brings his backpack to his chest, rummaging through it to find the key item.

Niki was smart, very smart. He didn’t earn the number three rank for no reason, proudly representing the school on the pitch and in numerous academic competitions. Yet his mind couldn’t quite understand anything written in his physics textbook. He passed by fine, but it never satisfied him to cheat on his tests, and pay Sunghoon to do his homework for him.

“Tutoring? Seriously? And what did you do to deserve it?” you asked, raising your eyebrow.

He smiles widely “Well I haven’t seen any sappy men bothering you, so I think you owe me this one”

“I haven’t seen any sappy girls bothering you either, so I thought we were even” you answer, not giving into his request just yet.

You knew you’d do it. You did everything he asked you to do.

“C’mon Y/n! I need your help, just this one time, please?” he pleaded, a pout on his face “I won’t be able to play in the game this week if I don’t get a good grade on this test” he adds in an attempt to convince you.

You laugh at his desperation, and nod your head “Fine, but you owe me one”

He nods hurriedly, and pulls out all the things you’ll need to give him the greatest tutoring session ever.

“Imagine you’re driving a car” you said sketching a simple diagram “When you hit the brakes, what happens?”

Niki furrowed his eyebrows, and you wondered how he couldn’t comprehend such a simple concept as Newton's laws. It was cute in a way.

“Well I slow down, but that’s too obvious. This is probably a much more complex answer, isn’t it?” he pondered the question.

“No Niki, it’s that simple” you laugh “That’s Newton's first law in action. An object in motion stays in motion unless acted upon by an external force. When you hit the brakes, you apply force to the car, causing it to decelerate”

His eyes lit up in understatement, as he tried to solve another question you threw at him.

“Was it really that hard?” you asked him with a small smile, and he hesitated at first.

His eyes glazed through the notebook, but soon enough he answered “Not really. It was much better when you explained it rather than Ms. Lee”

“I’m glad” you answered “If it’s really that bad, you can ask me for help”

“It really isn’t that bad though” Niki answered, with a chuckle.

“Oh c’mon you don’t even understand Newton's laws, it is bad” you reply.

“Okay you geek, I get it. But I thought I have to deserve your tutoring?” he questioned, a small smirk on his face.

“You gotta help out a dumb bitch once in a while” he pretends to be offended at your words.

Not so long ago, he’d probably blow up at you for those words. He’d probably make a scene, resulting in everyone being uncomfortable for a good two days. This time was different. You were different.

“The way you talk to me- it’s unlike you” you inquire suddenly, after a moment of calming silence.

“How come?” Niki asks, not raising his gaze from the workbook.

“Your voice is softer” you smile, and he can’t help but reciprocate.

It brings him a weird comfort. The words passing by your lips, make his heart warmer, a trickling yet pleasing feeling in his spine. He can’t quite pinpoint the moment you touched his mind so intimately, erasing any barrier between you and him. Being with you felt so easy. It feels so easy, that he even forgets why he hated you in the first place.

“Are you coming to my game?” he asked, a new found passion for physics coursing through his veins as he solves yet another problem with ease.

You looked at him adoringly “Obviously”

He chuckled “I’m glad” he looked up at you “But I thought you hated football”

Well you did. You hated it because Niki played it. But even if he didn't ask you, you’d come.

“I just don't understand it, that’s all” you gave him a half smile, looking through his textbook for any more challenging questions for Niki to solve.

“You don't have to be there if you don't want to, Y/n”

You seem to enjoy the way your name slips his lips so delicately.

“No no, I want to be there for you, and I think It’d be sus if I didn't show up. Plus, Hana has some new crush and wants to see him play” you chuckle, and so does Niki, noting that the girl falls in love with anyone and everybody.

“Is it Jay? I’ve seen them mingling before” he questions and you shake your head.

“Jay was last month, old news. I think his name is Sungchan? Or Seunghan, I don't know” you ponder the question, going back to that one conversation you had with the girl about her new love interest.

The possibility that he’s also not the guy she likes now is very high-her heart swooning for any man that gives her the time of day.

Hana was gorgeous and incredibly sweet. No wonder she had a new talking stage every week, no boy being able to handle her.

“Sungchan. He’s a good guy. I can approve of him, definitely better than Jay” he recalls many situations including Jay, where the boy proved himself to be absolutely useless and weird.

Maybe it was his team captain complex, but Niki seemed to notice many things that others didn't. His duty was to take care of his teammates, so catching onto the tiniest things was inevitable.

“What’s wrong with Jay?” you question, and he laughs wondering if the words will even peer out of his mouth.

“He’s like, fucking perverted” he laughs “Well maybe not that badly, but still, he’s just proper dodgy”

You're shocked at his admission, and internally glad your best-friend got over him so quickly.

Your conversation with Niki seemed to flow so easily. You never had to try hard, something always slipping off your tongue, his personality making it so easy. You never thought you’d have so much in common with Niki, so much to talk to him about. You were so fixated on something that was beyond his control, instead of pissing Jake off for being a horrible friend.

____

“I need to go to the bathroom quickly before the game starts” Hana said hurriedly, her small figure rushing towards the bathroom, making you smile to yourself.

You blush. You remember the brief mention Hana made, expressing the want for a more romantic expose of the relationship between you and Niki. You wonder if Niki remembers too.

Usually you never cared for the highschool football games, skipping in order to study more or spend time with your best-friend. This time was different, you felt like a trophy to your oh-so-fake boyfriend, excited to see what comes after he scores a winning touchdown.

“Can we talk?” Minjun’s voice takes you by surprise, making you stop in a halt.

“Uh, sure” you reply, taken aback by the sudden serious tone and demeanor, knowing him from the bubbly personality and sweet voice.

“I know you’re faking it” your heart sinks “Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to yourself? Seriously, Niki?” he asks, and you go completely silent, trying to figure out a reasonable answer to his accusations.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Minjun,” you say after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

A frown tugs at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t expect that reply. He doesn’t know what he really expected in the first place.

“For whatever reason you are doing this, you could’ve just asked me. Why didn’t you ask me? I would’ve helped you, no matter how stupid it is” he kept going, and it felt like you were digging yourself deeper into this lie.

He remembers standing in this same place, your hand hitting his arm playfully, your eyes lighting up at anything he said. In some way, he feels just as barren and vulnerable in your silence as he had that day.

“Minjun, I think you should go join the rest of the team. They’re probably looking for you” you answered, wondering why Hana hasn’t come to save you by now.

“I really liked you Y/n. Like really fucking liked you. I don’t know why you're doing this, especially why you’re helping out that asshole Niki” he added quietly, as Hana came up to the two of you.

“Minjun!” she smiled at him, and he forced one himself “Fighting Minjunnie! I’m rooting for you! We both are!” she cheered.

“Surely” he said, leaving the two of you.

Hana turned to you confused with Minjun's sudden ignorance “Did you two fight or something?” she asked.

“It’s nothing. I think he’s just stressed out” you replied calmly, leading the girl out to the bleachers.

You tried to focus. You tried to be the perfect (fake) girlfriend for Niki, as he played one of his most important games, but Minjun’s words sunk so deep. They were all you could think about.

You couldn't quite figure out why you didn't just admit it. Why didn't just tell him everything and end the bet with Niki? You wanted to so badly before.

“Sungchan is playing like a bitch right now” Eunseok commented, disappointed with his friends performance.

“Don't say that, Eunseok!” Hana slaps his forearm and he laughs at her anger.

At least you knew she was still crushing on him, instead of Jay.

“No seriously, what is going on with that man” Sunghoon said, squinting slightly, his eyes trailing behind Sungchans figure.

Hana kept hushing them, begging for her friends to not speak so badly about her soon-to-be husband. You found it adorable, noting to ask Niki to set her up with him.

“Our boy is doing so well though. Maybe he actually needed a girl in his life” Eunseok smiled at you.

You felt a heat rush to your cheeks at his words, wondering if he actually performed any better this time.

Maybe he was trying to show off in front of you? Or make you proud?

“He’s been training like crazy” you say, and they keep hyping him up.

“Jakey, are you okay?” Hana asked the boy sitting next to you, concerned when she noticed his tired face.

He smiled “I’m fine, Hana. Don’t worry” he said fondly “Look Sungchan is waving at you” he pointed, the girl immediately turning her figure towards him to wave back.

“Did you just see that? He waved at me! Sungchan waved at me!” Hana gleamed excitedly, Eunseok looking at her with disgust.

“I can’t believe you like his bitchass” he half-smiled, shaking his head in a playful act of disbelief.

“Aren't you two friends? Oh I’m so telling him about this” she replied, and he put his hands up.

“Maybe your fantasy will come true” you inquire, and Hana’s mind races back to the moment she imagined a dreamy kiss on the field.

“With the way he’s playing, I doubt there will be anything to celebrate” Jake said, and Hana hummed tiredly.

“Can you guys leave him alone? He’s tired, okay?” she mused, and everyone nodded, done with teasing the girl.

You can’t help but stare at Niki. Even with the heavy gear, he still manages to look good. When did he get so attractive? How come you’ve never noticed the pretty little mole on his chin, his gorgeous lips that begged for your touch, and eyes that grew whenever he talked about something he loves. He was right in front of you this whole time.

You practically begged for Minjun’s attention just a couple weeks back, yet now you felt yourself fading away from the feelings for him. You can’t bring yourself to come up with any conclusion, or to bother with distractions, but why? Why was it so hard to just accept the truth as it was: you wanted Niki to want you.

The game was nearing the end, and Niki could already smell the victory coming his way. He wanted to make you proud, he wanted to see your smile while you ran up to him, praises spewing from your mouth as he hugs you tightly. He hated that it was all fake, the realization dawning upon him; he wants you to want him.

But he knows deep down that it’ll never be the two of you.

A loud horn breaks your trail of thoughts, the audience screaming happily as Niki scores the winning touchdown. It was just like how you imagined, wondering if he’ll actually kiss you now. You know you wanted him to.

He took off his helmet, his hair ruffled, beads of sweat falling down his face, but a wide smile when he spots you with a wide grin striding towards him. It’s just like he imagined.

He doesn’t know what to do. Everyone is looking, and this is the moment he could victoriously hold you. It would make his ego grow, the perfect highschool popular kid image never dwindling, but what would you think of it? God what if you pushed him off of you in front of everyone.

As much as he could prevent things from happening or predict anything, he couldn’t have known that you would be the one to initiate his deep rooted fantasy. He couldn’t have prepared himself for your pretty lips that pressed against him in a chaste, sweet kiss. You felt so good against him, and he couldn’t find himself pulling away. He never expected himself to enjoy such a fucking cliche moment- but here he was, wanting more and more.

He wants to tell you everything in that moment- how he wanted this too, how he’d imagined your lips against his, and how he wants to kiss you everywhere. He knows he could. He’d even blame it on the slip of his unruly tongue. Yet there was a boundary he’d have to walk upon, a fear of losing you prevailing his selfishness. He knows he won’t.

“Wh-” he tries, and fails to still his breathing. Niki hopes you can’t hear the tremble in his voice “How was it?” he asks, his voice unsteady. He doesn’t care though.

“Your game or the kiss” you smile, and he wonders how you can be so calm about this.

He smiles shyly “Both”

“Stop” you laugh and he feels himself float above his body “You did great”

“All for you” his response is amorous.

Niki can’t help but laugh at your silence, watching you replay those words in your head. He pats your head, and throws his arm over your shoulder.

How could any of this possibly be fake?

“Good fucking game dude” Eunseok exclaimed, with a bright smile on his face, as everyone else decided to join you by Niki’s side.

You looked around, a giddy and gleeful Hana, hugging a tired and sweaty Sungchan, as he smiled at her affection. Everyone had happily come down to congratulate the team, but Minjun was nowhere to be seen. Maybe you never intended to hurt him, but you so obviously did.

“Jake you better fucking continue this energy at your disgustingly rich mansion” Sunghoon warned, and Jake smiled at his words.

“You don’t have to worry about that” he replied contentedly, and you were glad to see him like this.

Jake was rich. Like really fucking rich. To the point that he was offended when ‘eat the rich’ was trending, defending that he didn’t choose this life. His mansion in the hills was the go to spot for summer and any other party.

But then again, it’s not like he didn’t have people to clean up after everything goes silent.

_____

“Y/n!” you turned, your eyes meeting Wonbin’s, as you entered the kitchen you knew better than anyone present.

You smiled, as the boy moved in your direction holding a red solo cup.

Wonbin was your designated drink mixer and party buddy for whatever event hosted by whoever. You wouldn't call him a close friend, rather a person you’d talk to only on a special occasion.

“Where your boyfriend at?” he asked with a grin, making you chuckle.

The word didn't make your heart feel weird anymore. It felt so natural, normal, and sometimes you’d even forget it was all fake. For the past couple of weeks you’ve learned to forget easily, not wanting to pick apart Niki’s actions to maybe notice a pattern. You didn’t want to accidentally misinterpret.

“Probably playing some stupid game in the living room” you sighed, hoping to get a little more out of him this time.

You knew that the fake relationship was coming to an end, it already had gone on for way too long.

“Mhm” Wonbin hummed, resting his body on the kitchen counter “It’s fake isn’t it?” he asked, taking you by surprise.

You had absolutely no idea what to say. Wonbin really wasn't a part of any friend group you knew or were in, so what was the shame in telling him the truth? But it’d hurt your pride too much to say the truth out loud.

You avoided eye contact, not knowing what reply would secure your safety and not damage your pride. Your silence made Wonbin laugh “C’mon, you can tell me”

“It’s so embarrassing” you admit, and he shakes his head.

“Not really. There’s plenty of girls who dream of this whole fake dating type of shit” he defended, and it made you smile lightly.

He was right. There were girls out there who fantasized about a fake relationship, and there definitely were also girls who dream about a relationship with Nishimura Riki.

Even though you initially hated his guts, maybe you were lucky after all?

“I just can't comprehend the fact you chose Niki out of all people to be your fake boyfriend” he chuckled, and took a sip of his own drink.

“It was his idea, I promise” you replied, and Wonbin mouthed a ‘no fucking way’, unable to imagine Niki, the person who swore he hated everything about you, ask you to be his fake girlfriend.

“People can be really annoying, and I guess we just had some things in common after all” you added, and he nodded, still trying to visualize the situation you described.

In a way it felt good to tell someone. You had been hiding it for so long, the lies eating you alive.

It had been so long that you didn't even know what had become of this initially fake relationship. The line had already been blurred a long time ago, and it was hard to move along it at this point. He had done so many things, in private, that you didn't know where you stood anymore.

“I can tell you actually like him” Wonbin admitted, once again taking you by surprise “The way you talk about him, it’s different”

“You act so smart and psychological, it’s so annoying” you huffed, and turned away from him, chugging the drink he had previously made for you.

He laughed “The truth hurts, doesn't it?”

“I don’t like Niki” you said, trying to sound as confident as you could, but Wonbin saw right through you anyway.

He didn't want to continue the topic, knowing he had already exhausted your limits. You also knew that no matter what, admitting something like that out loud wouldn't be easy either.

The built up hatred and anger you had for Niki, couldn't have just disappeared so easily after a couple conversations and hangouts. But it did. And it frustrated you so much.

“You guys playing spin the bottle in the living room with us?” a red faced Hana asked, peeking her head into the kitchen slightly.

“With us, meaning?” Wonbin asked, making Hana slightly stumble into the kitchen.

She started putting down her fingers “Well me, obviously” she smiled “Sungchannie, thank god” she let out a steady, thankful breath “Some girls, Oh Jia, Lee Chae, I don’t really recognize the rest. Oh, and Eunseok, Yang Jungwon, Minjunnie and some others” she went on, her drunken state making the explanation much longer than it should've been.

“No, no, no! Niki too! Y/n you need to come!” she exclaimed, eyes wide. She took your hand and pulled you with her.

You looked at Wonbin pleadingly, and with a small smile he trailed right behind the two of you. He always claimed to be ‘too old’ for those type of games, but always ended up staying till the end of any.

Park Wonbin was truly full of shit.

Your eyes met Niki’s as he sat in the circle, his back pressed against the couch. You looked at him, mouthing ‘what are you doing’ and he pointed to Oh Jia sitting across from him.

You knew she liked him, and it definitely didn't make you happy.

“I can see some couples here, yall into shit like this?” Jungwon asked, eyeing not only you and Niki, but Hana and Sungchan who seemed to have already made the news that went around school.

You chuckled quietly and shook your head “It’s nothing that serious, just a stupid game”

“It will be serious for you soon” Jia mumbled, her friend turning to her with a shit eating grin.

Oh if they only knew how absolutely out of it they looked. What the fuck were they even talking about anyway.

“I don’t think we should be playing this” you whispered to Niki, who previously patted down a seat for you next to himself.

“Look how many people are playing, doubt me or you will get chosen” he smiled, and you nodded.

Still, isn't the sole fact you are even agreeing to participate weird? Shouldn’t you be mingling in a closet somewhere deep inside the house? God what was he thinking. This was so unbelievable, and you weren't surprised that Wonbin had caught on.

“Me first!” Hana cheered excitedly, as Eunseok had finally brought a bottle to play with.

You looked over at Sungchan, who had a sad expression on his face. You could see his eyes praying on the bottle to land on him, his hands trembling with each spin. It was cute.

The Gods above must have heard his prayers, the bottle landing on him with no doubt.

He smiled and leaned into your bestfriend to plant a quick kiss on her lips. She pouted and grabbing his head, pushed for more. Maybe she was drunk, but you knew she’d remember this well. Although a witness, you’d hear about it for a long long time.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to spin, Sungchan?” Eunseok chuckled, and the boy holding onto Hana, shook his head no.

“Two players down so quickly” a boy with black hair, who you didn't recognize, commented.

While Jungwon went in to spin, your eyes caught Minjun’s. You couldn't read him, his expression stone cold. He was either mad at you or didn't care. That’s the thing, you didn't know.

“Stop looking at him” Niki whispered, cutting your moment with Minjun short.

“I think he’s mad at me” you said, and Niki furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Why?” he asked, eyeing Minjun down.

“He figured it out, you know, figured us out” you replied, putting emphasis on the word ‘us’ “I didn't admit, obviously, and that’s why I think he’s mad. He’s convinced I played him on purpose” you added, and Niki’s gaze softened.

“I’m sorry” he said quietly, his eyes falling onto his lap.

You looked at him confused, “What are you talking about?”

He finally looked over at you, his face displaying a half smile, that felt cold to you “I ruined your chances with Minjun. I guess I was only thinking about myself back then, so I’m saying sorry. I can talk to him when this is over” he answered, and you felt your heart break.

He didn't like Minjun, you knew it very well. Minjun knew it too. But somehow he felt bad for the both of you. If only he knew how much you didn't care about Kim Minjun at this moment. How much you actually cared about the boy next to you. Maybe if he knew he wouldn't feel so sorry, you thought.

“You don't have to be sorry, Niki. We both wanted this” you smiled, and squeezed his hand.

“I can tell Niki really wants to go now” Sunghoon exclaimed, and hurried Niki to spin the bottle.

The boy hesitated, looking over at you. You nodded for him to go ahead with a smile. God was this weird? You agreeing to your (fake) boyfriend playing fucking spin the bottle. Not only that , but playing with him. This was so stupid.

He took the small soju bottle, and spinned it lightly. He prayed it would fall on you.

Or one of his bros, no homo of course.

The music was blaring, and you hoped that bottle could feel your intense stare, successfully landing on you.

As much as luck was on Sungchan’s side today, he seemingly took all of it with him earlier. The bottle pointed straight at Oh Jia, the girl who was known for her little obsession with Niki.

She looked at you with a disgusting smile, and moved her body towards Niki. He looked at you, and you didn't even know what to say. You couldn't tell him no, he wasn't yours after all.

“Sorry, Y/n” she muttered, and you felt your blood boil at her annoying, high pitched voice.

She moved even closer, but her actions were stopped with Niki moving the bottle's nozzle to point at you.

He didn't even let you or Jia speak, eagerly going in to kiss your lips he missed so much. It hasn't even been 3 hours since you initiated the first one, but his lips starved for your touch. You could feel it. You could feel the desperation in his movements. The taste of his chapstick mixing in with the saliva, it was much more passionate than last time.

“Payback for last time” he mumbled, pulling away, his voice unsteady.

You looked at him dumbfounded. What the fuck did he just do? Was this another stunt to show off his cool, popular boy persona, cause it seemed just like that. But you couldn't blame him either, you started it.

No matter what, it felt good, and you wondered how to get yourself to stop.

“That’s cheating!” Jia’s friend exclaimed, crossing her arms.

“The bottle is clearly on her, I don't know what you're talking about” Wonbin defended, and you smiled at him.

Jia huffed, leaving the game along with her friend.

“We’ll leave too” you said, watching them go upstairs.

Jungwon sighed “I’m forced to kiss the boys now”

You looked around, not a single woman in the circle that was initially full.

You pulled Niki’s hand, taking him to an empty room. He felt confident at that moment, rehearsing his confession in his head. He was going to tell you. He was going to tell you, and it was going to be amazing. You’d listen to him in awe, and then agree to be his actual girlfriend.

“I have something to tell you” he said, as you closed the door behind yourself.

He sat down on the bed, and you stood in front of him “Me too”

“You go first” he smiled, and you looked out the window, the words lingering at the tip of your tongue.

You wanted to tell him how you actually felt. But you knew you couldn't. You were enemies, nothing more.

“We should end this,” you said after a moment of silence.

_____

Things had gone back to normal.

You didn’t expect much from Niki, guessing he’d either be overly nice to you, expressing his thankfulness for helping him get rid of annoying fangirls, or go back to being annoying himself.

But he was neither. He didn’t say anything. Just like he didn’t say anything that day, he had gone completely quiet ever since. Instead of teasing you, he ignored you.

He ate lunch with the football team, and it hurt you to see him laugh purely with them. It even seemed like he had gotten along with Minjun, which confused you even further. They hated each other, but now? It seemed like they were just laughing at your misery, getting high off of seeing you like this. Was this just a huge plan to get you looking like a complete loser?

Maybe he should’ve been sorry that day, not only did you lose Minjun, but everyone of your fanboys at this school. That sounded awful, but it was partially true.

You two had only revealed the 'breakup' to your closest friends, not exactly reaching any agreement regarding the rest of the students.

You could pretend to be mad at him in front of your friends, but it hurt you so much. It hurt to see him behave like this towards you, knowing you did nothing wrong. You two were never real, so why was he so different so suddenly. You just hoped that it was a performance for your friends to make it more believable, but as days went by, you started to doubt it.

“This is a sign that I shouldn’t regret not dating Hana,” Sunghoon chuckled, looking over at the table Niki was seemingly having more fun at. He never laughed like this with all of you.

Was it all for show?

“Fuck off” you mumbled, looking down at your lunch, which was vastly unappetising today.

“It’s not your fault, Y/n, don’t worry. For all I know, it was probably his fault anyways” Jake said, which made you suddenly look up from your food for the first time in a while.

“You defending me?” you chuckled, and he shrugged.

You looked over at Niki once again, attempting to catch him looking at you too.

But he can’t. He can’t bear to look at you. He can only think about the dark heat of that room, your words ringing in his ears. Resisting the searing force that wanted, more than anything, to try and tell you again.

“God, this is so annoying!” Hana exclaimed “Y/nnie didn’t do anything, and he’s acting like a pussy all of a sudden”

She pouted, a weird vibe circulating all of you today. It felt like you were mourning him in some way.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, a text message from Minjun lighting up your homescreen. It was ironic, a picture of you and Niki on your lock screen, a message from Minjun decorating it.

Minjun: Can we talk?

You thought about replying, the scenarios of him playing a stupid prank on you along with Niki replaying in your mind. Nevertheless, you texted back a short confirmation, and locked your phone.

You could feel his eyes on you, as you set your phone down on the table.

…

“What did you want to talk about?” you asked, your voice unsure of the situation.

It felt familiar, meeting in the equipment room, but this time instead of Niki who had the prettiest face out there, it was Kim Minjun.

“I knew it was fake” he said, and you felt a heat rise to your cheeks.

You looked away from him, your eyes landing on the window. The sky was gray, the sun no longer shining in through it.

“I don’t want to talk about this again, Minjun,” you sighed, tired of the topic already. Especially tired of talking about it with him.

“No that’s not the point” he stopped you from leaving, you turned towards him once again.

“Then what is it Minjun? Did Niki tell you all about it? Did he tell you how stupid I was to fall for him, even though it was all fake? Did you get me to come here only so you could make fun of me for being so naive? Is that what it is?” you blurted out. You had suddenly lost control over your words, your response coming out much harsher than you intended.

“What are you talking about? Do you seriously think I’m plotting behind your back with Niki?” he asked hurriedly.

Now that he said it, out loud, it sounded so stupid. You knew Niki long enough to know he hates Minjun more than he has ever hated you, and would never ever make any deal with him.

“Maybe” you huffed, turning from him “I don’t know Minjun. Can you just say it already?”

He sat down on the chair in the far right corner, his hand signaling for you to come closer, patting down the chair next to him.

“I guess I did sort of figure it out, the fact that what you and Niki had was fake. But he told me about it himself recently. He also said you didn’t intend to hurt me, and that he forced you to do this whole fake dating thing” Minjun relayed the message, and you didn’t know Niki would remember your conversation during that stupid game.

Niki was evidently mad at you for ending things with him, but encouraging Minjun to try with you once again? That was what pissed you off the most, you couldn’t figure him out in any possible way. One day you can’t figure out the actual intention behind his words, exchanging sweet words and kisses, and the other, going back to complete strangers. Not even enemies, strangers.

“He really said that?” you asked, and Minjun nodded “I really didn’t want to hurt you Minjun. I’m sorry for leading you on, in some way. I should’ve never agreed to it in the first place” you add, avoiding eye contact with the boy.

You hear him chuckle, and with a furrow to your eyebrows you look up at him.

He smiles “It’s not your fault I already know that much. I shouldn’t have blown up on you before the match like that anyways. It truly is none of my business who you hang out with” he assured, and it made you feel a little better.

“I know, but I just hope you can still speak to me comfortably after this” you gave him a small smile, still unsure of your situation with him.

“I’m not going to try and get with you again though, don't worry” he said calmly, and although you knew it, it still felt weird to hear.

You chuckled “Not to sound selfish, but why? Am I not cute anymore?” you pouted sarcastically, and he laughed.

“I can see you like him, like a lot. I even felt stupid for saying those things to you, cause you made it so believable at the party. The way you look at him, the way you speak to him, that’s not fake. All of it is real, and I wouldn’t want to stand in the middle of that” he answered, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

And you thought you were good at hiding it.

“Niki doesn’t feel the same though” you gave him a sad smile, fiddling with the material of your sweater.

“You think so?” he asks, but it doesn't necessarily sound like a question.

You hum in agreement, and he chuckles lightly “The same goes for him. Trust me it’s real. I can see it, hear it and feel it. The way his voice was so sad yet hopeful when he spoke to me about you, I know he likes you. Niki is just really stubborn, and he’d rather live in misery and not tell anyone instead of just admitting his feelings to you, or honestly anyone else” he explains, and you feel your heart start to beat faster.

Was he right? Did Niki like you? Or did Minjun have a terrible judge of character and all this way a complete bullshit.

“What should I do then? Gosh this is so annoying” you sighed, combing your fingers through your hair.

“Tell him? What else is there to do? If I’m wrong, which I’m not” he smiled proudly “-and he doesn’t like you, I owe you big time” he offered.

“I don’t know if I should take that risk, though” you said, and he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Do you really want it to be like this for the rest of highschool? God, if he doesn’t like you, you’ll just find someone better”

Easier said than done.

But maybe he was right. At the end of the day you had nothing to lose, so why not just tell him?

“Fine” you grumble, and he laughs, taking your hand to pull you out of the room, before any teacher finds you.

_____

You had left a note in his locker the next day, too scared to face him yourself.

You waited, hiding your body behind the huge column, peeking to see if he had come to grab something from his locker already.

You felt like one of his fangirls. Giggling to yourself, as you awaited the arrival of your mighty savior, Nishimura Riki, hoping you are the one he picks. Hoping that he reads your note, and whispers an ‘I like you too’ rosy cheeked, hot breath and all.

How did you get like this? You curse yourself for letting something so seemingly small, so innocent, writhe under your skin and possess your mind.

You didn’t catch it, lost in your mind, envisioning the numerous scenarios that could occur after he receives your note.

He sighs with annoyance, a note filling his locker, it had been so long since he received one, it felt unfamiliar. Niki was frustrated, hoping that the notes weren’t making a sudden comeback.

He opens it, curious as to what it may be. He couldn’t help it, wanting to remind himself of the feeling reading confessions like this brought him. But what he didn’t expect was to see your name written on it.

He thought it may have been a prank, a stupid way to get you back together made up by your dear friends, but it wasn’t. This was your handwriting, the same one that wrote all his physics notes and study guides.

‘Niki, it’s Y/n. This is weird isn’t it? Like me writing notes to you. I hope you don’t see the pink envelope, and throw it out like you always do. But I’ll know if you do, anyways. Well first of all I wanted to apologize. I don’t even know what for, so this may be stupid, but I feel like I should. You looked so sad, and I know it’s because of me. So I’m sorry, Niki. If I did something wrong, something to hurt you, please tell me! Anyways, I wanted to tell you something. I like you Nishimura Riki. I’ve liked you for a long, long time now, but I myself didn’t know it just yet. But I’m saying it now, and I'm very much sure of it. I guess it took some stupid physics tutoring, geeky Wonbin and finally Minjun whom you hate so much for me to realize. God, maybe I shouldn’t talk about him in a note where I confess to you? Forget it. I didn’t kiss you that day to show off, I kissed you because I really freaking wanted to. And it felt so good when I did. So please don’t think I ended things with you that day because you kissed me, no, not at all. I guess I just couldn’t stand this relationship being fake, because to me, all the things I did were real. You don’t have to reciprocate, or even say anything, I just wanted you to know. And I would hope you feel the same, but it’s okay if you don’t’

His mouth runs dry.

It explodes in his chest all at once; how bad he wants to grab a fistfull of your blazer, stroke his fingers against your ivory jaw, and kiss you senseless. He would rub his thumb against your swollen lips, and tell you how much he likes you.

He looks around, spotting your shoe slightly peeking out from behind the column a little ahead of the lockers.

“Baek Y/n!” he shouts, and you're suddenly brought back to reality.

Your mind had been rushing for so long, you didn’t even notice Niki walking up to his locker, and managing to even read the whole note.

You slightly peek your head out, and catch his eyes already looking at you. He strides towards you quickly, and you can’t tell if he’s mad or happy. He holds the note in his hand tightly as he stands in front of you.

“What is this?” he smirks, and you still can’t tell if he’s about to make fun of you or return your feelings.

You shrug, looking away from him.

“It’s cute. You even put those stickers we bought at the stationery store on it” he points out, chuckling, and grabs your hand so you can face him again. “What do you think I’ll say now?” he tilts his head, and you find it incredibly attractive.

“I don’t know” you murmured, unsure of the situation you have gotten yourself into.

“Let’s see” he scans the note again “I think I like you too” he smiles, and you don’t know if he’s fucking with you or not.

“You think?” you ask, copying his action by tilting your head slightly.

He laughs “Are you really going to make me say it?”

You nod with a smile “Mmm”

“Yes Y/n, I like you. I don’t think I like you, I definitely like you. I’ve also liked you for a long time, but I didn’t want to admit it because I knew you probably didn’t. And that day, when you ended things, I wanted to tell you. But I’m glad you did it, even if I had to wait a little longer. That fake relationship was fucking with my head big time” he answers, and you feel stupid for not letting him speak first that day. You could’ve avoided this whole misunderstanding.

But things happen for a reason.

“Are you being for real?” you ask, and he chuckles.

He grabs your shoulders “Very real”

You pull him closer, tightly embracing his body. He smiles, the familiar scent hitting his nose. Niki’s cheeks are glowing red, and he can’t hide his toothy smile.

“So would you want to be my girlfriend, like my real girlfriend” he asks, his voice muffled by the material of your sweater.

You laugh lightly at his tone “I don’t know…. You tell me” you tease, and he pulls away to look at you with a small pout.

“Cmon, just tell me” he pleads.

“Yes Niki, I want to be your real girlfriend” you answer, emphasizing the word ‘real’.

Now you could finally enjoy him, and by the way your heart beat, this time you were certain it was real.

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badbtssmut · 5 months ago

Text

Reckless and sweet

What if you are equally in love with two guys and really can’t choose? You date them both. But when Taehyung and Jungkook find out about you playing them, they decide to dick you down together, you were the one greedily taking two dicks anyway, so what’s the problem?

Contains: attempt at porn with plot, implication that fortune tellers don’t work, reader will get caught so prepare for some feelings of anxiety, fear, etc, the guys tease reader when she’s caught, reader is dating them both without them knowing, text AU mixed with story writing, reader is a cute coquette girly, some angst, reader will have sex with both guys

Smut JK: Missionary, pussy licking and fingering, his face in her pussy

Smut Tae: riding, boobplay, from behind

Smut both: taking turns, blowjobs, missionary, reader is told she has a slutty face, dirty talk, they both cum in her, boobplay

Admin note: make sure to open the images, tumblr might crop some of the convos

“What brings you here, dear?”

"I can't choose between two guys. I… need help."

The fortune teller nodded knowingly, her fingers shuffling the tarot cards. "The cards will guide us," she said, spreading them out in a maze like pattern. "Let us see what the future holds for your heart."

You watched the fortune teller as she turned over the cards, one by one, the flickering lantern light illuminating each card. "There it is.” She tapped the card. “This card stands for “soulmate” and in combination with this card, it leads to…” Her hand inched closer to the two photos you had laid out. "I see, I see. This card shows that this young man is the one for you." She tapped on the photo. "The cards don't lie."

"Oh…” You slumped into your chair, a little disappointed.

“You seem disappointed, were you hoping for the other man?”

“No, that’s… not it. It’s nothing.”

Why tell her that this is your fifth attempt today to consult a fortune teller? And that everyone gave you a different story.

You stood up and paid her for her service. "Thank you for your help, Madam. I will take your words into consideration."

You weren’t a bad person, really. You didn't seek Taehyung and Jungkook out with the intention to cheat on them; all you desired was an unbiased answer, just a little something to ease your indecisiveness and help you decide. But… the results of all the tarot readings were inconclusive.

Your best friend told you to pick already and not lead them on any longer.

But that was easier said than done.

Your best friend wouldn’t understand, she isn’t you, she doesn’t experience the guys the same way you do— you were convinced if she had the same predicament that she would do the same thing you did.

But she didn’t have the same predicament, she had her soulmate already. So, you wouldn’t expect her to understand.

You stared at the phone in your hand, your thumb hovering over the texting app that will connect you to either Taehyung or Jungkook.

Which would it be?

You let out a sigh, putting the phone down.

Why did this have to be so difficult? You couldn’t recall the last time you had to make such a damned difficult decision.

Then, the doorbell rang, ripping you out of your focus. You got up and headed for the door, and once you opened the door, you were met by the delivery driver.

"Good evening, Miss. I have a package for you."

"Thank you.” You accepted the package and closed the door. You looked at the package and noted that the sender was Kim Taehyung.

“Gosh, he’s so sweet.” You smiled. He knew that you had been feeling blue lately and must’ve decided that he wanted to cheer you up a bit.

But if he knew the reason for why you were down, he would’ve probably smashed and broken this present in a thousand pieces.

You opened the package, carefully, not wanting to rip the packaging, and took out the present inside.

It didn’t take long for you and Jungkook to retreat to the bedroom after you arrived at his place, and you were soon lying naked on his bed, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy, his fingers buried deep inside you. Your legs shook with anticipation, a soft moan slipping from your lips as your hands tangled in his hair, pushing his face deeper into your pussy.

“I love how wet you get for me. All soaked and ready to be fucked," Jungkook flicked your clit with his tongue, before he moved away and started to pump his errection. His fingers were still inside of you, his fingers curling and hitting that sensitive spot deep within.

"O-oh!” Your body curved along with his movements.

“Yeah? That’s a nice spot, hm? Like it right there, feels good there?”

You could only nod, your voice trapped in your throat.

Jungkook continued to finger you, his thumb circling your clit, and you felt your orgasm build up. However, before you could hit your climax, Jungkook pulled away, and replaced his fingers with something much better.

He slowly thrust into you, filling you up, and his head dropped into the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. "Ah, fuck."

You were a moaning mess underneath him, your eyes closing as the pleasure intensified. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. The both of you didn’t speak; simply enjoying each other's bodies connecting.

Jungkook's thrusts increased in speed and power and you could feel the familiar coil tighten again, your body arching as you cried out.

"Close, close…” You panted.

"Come, baby. Let it all out," he whispered in your ear, leaving kisses on your neck.

That was all you needed, and your orgasm came crashing down, a loud moan slipping from your lips.

Jungkook wasn’t far behind, riding out your waves of orgasm until he, too, came.

After the sex, Jungkook went to the kitchen to prepare dinner and you stayed in bed for a few minutes, and decided to check your phone for any notifications, and you saw a message from your best friend.

You joined Jungkook in the kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island as you watched him cook. His broad shoulders and toned back faced you, and he was only wearing his joggers which he put on after the sex.

It was a nice distraction from the earlier chat you had with Ara. Part of you thought that you went too far, but another part of you felt like it was justified to respond the way that you did. She was constantly pushing you to choose already, but she failed to realize just how difficult it was for you to choose. Both men were absolutely perfect and there was zero fault in them… and that was the whole problem. You had waited for one of them to mess up; to start an argument with you, tell you they were an ex felon, kick a puppy, yell at a service worker, shove an old lady… ANYTHING. But their faults never came, not once have they slipped up and made you think that you wanted to break up with them.

Ara's words played over and over again in your mind.

You are doing this to protect both men's hearts. Yes, that's it.

“Babe?” Jungkook's voice interrupted your thoughts, and you realized that you were staring at the table. He had set the plate in front of you and sat opposite of you, but he noticed you neither acknowledged the food or him. “You okay?”

You blinked and looked up, seeing the concerned look on his face. You managed a smile, "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry… I just was thinking of something.”

Jungkook was smart enough to know that something was bothering you, so he didn’t let go, and pressed; “What’s going on?”

You hesitated, looking down at your food, pushing the noodles around with the chopsticks.

Jungkook reached across the table and held your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Just... tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help."

You looked up at him. Your expression softened, and you sighed, deciding that you needed to tell him what was going on.

"Well..." You started, your heart pounding against your chest. “I was speaking with my best friend and…” You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to tell him the truth. You were really going to do this, weren’t you? It felt somewhat… relieving to do this. No more sneaking, no more having two accounts, no lying or cheating anymore.

“She disapproves of our relationship because we are moving too fast.”

You couldn’t do it.

You were such a coward.

“Oh, I am sorry babe, what do you think? Are we moving too fast? I mean, we are in a good place right now, right?” Jungkook asked.

You felt a little bad for making him worry, so you shook your head and gave him a smile.

"We are in a good place. Don't worry about it, she's just worried and doesn't know you."

"Should I meet her?” Jungkook asked.

“Meet who?”

“Your friend, silly.”

Oh boy. If he was meeting her, there was no telling what could happen. What if Ara ran her mouth? What if she told him everything? What if she messed up? No… it was too risky.

“She’s… an exchange student abroad, but if she ever visits home, I’ll let you know, and we can meet up. How about that?"

The lies just kept piling up…

“I missed you.” You murmured against his lips.

“I missed you too.” Taehyung deepened the kiss, his hands slipping underneath your shirt. His touch made your skin tingle and your stomach flutter, his hands were warm and big and his fingers spread over your back, pressing you closer against his chest.

“Did you?” You asked, between kisses.

Taehyung smiled, his tongue caressing your lips, before it slipped into your mouth. You let out a moan, your hands running up his toned arms.

His hands trailed further up, cupping your breasts and you gasped, breaking the kiss, but he didn't give you time to breathe, his mouth capturing yours again. His tongue was dancing with yours and you were left breathless when he eventually broke the kiss, his hands kneading your breasts.

“Mhm, I did. A lot. You are always on my mind. When I wake up, when I go to sleep, during work, when I am working out, in the shower, even when I eat, you are always on my mind, y/n"

His confession made your heart explode, and you felt heat rush to your cheeks, you didn’t expect that answer.

Taehyung took your hand and placed it on his groin. "See what you do to me, hm?" He said with a smile.

Soon, you were riding his cock, his errection peeking through the open gap in his pants, and your panties dangled onto your ankles as you rode him. His hips on your waist and he was guiding your body, making you move the way he wanted.

"I love it when you fuck yourself on my cock," he grunted. “Keep going, love.”

And that you did, until you physically weren’t able to anymore, and Taehyung took over, laying you down onto the bed, and you laid on your stomach, your hips propped up with a pillow as he started to fuck you from behind.

You couldn’t help the cries escaping your mouth, as he pounded into you, his cock hitting your g-spot with precision. Your fingers gripped onto the sheets, your face buried into the mattress.

His hands were on your waist, holding you steady as he fucked you senseless, and you could hear his heavy breathing. Then, one last pump, and he came first, letting out a deep groan.

He slowed down for a moment, before riding out his orgasm in you, until you came. Your orgasm came crashing down on you, and you whimpered and cried around his cock, and as you laid there trembling, you asked yourself; how were you ever supposed to choose between them?

It didn’t matter.

You didn't want to choose between them.

You couldn’t choose between them.

And like that, time passed by. The two of them showered you with gifts, attention, love, and affection nonstop, every day. You were constantly on the fence, debating whether you should stop or not… but it all just felt too good, you couldn’t imagine life without either of them.

The snow crunched underneath your feet, the cold air brushing against your skin as you walked through the snow covered park, and it was getting colder by the minute. Your hands were shoved into the pockets of your coat to keep you warm.

“Are you cold?” Taehyung asked, at which you nodded. He took your hands and held them. “Do you want to go in the Gondola lift?” He nodded his head in the direction of the ski lifts, and you glanced over.

“Yes, that looks fun, let’s!” You followed him, holding his hand. You stood in the queue for a few minutes, wrapping your arms around Taehyung and resting your head against his chest as you snuggled up to him.

Soon, it was your turn and Taehyung held the door open and you scooted right next to the window, glancing out. The view wasn’t that noteworthy yet but you were sure that would change soon.

“There, now we are all together. The three of us."

Huh? You turned your head and looked at him. Taehyung stepped in, and sat next to you, and you noticed the other man standing in the doorway.

Jungkook.

A pang of happiness temporarily shot through your chest, you had missed him and you loved seeing him again, but then a realization dawned on you; they knew about each other.

And that realization quickly morphed into fear, and your heart began to pound.

You were caught.

You jumped up and tried to make a run for the door, but Taehyung grabbed your wrist and pulled you down, forcing you back down on the bench. “You’re staying right here.”

“N-no, I want to go, no!”

Your gaze flickered back and forth between them, and you felt like a trapped animal, your body frozen as your mind ran wild.

Jungkook locked the door behind him and sat down to your left, while Taehyung sat on your right; you were sandwiched in between them.

No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening.

“Why are you so shy all of a sudden, babe? Usually you are so talkative, aren’t you?" Jungkook mocked.

Your eyes filled with tears, and you lowered your gaze, ashamed. Afraid to look them in the eyes.

“Don’t you like our surprise? We prepared it all for you, love.” Taehyung placed a hand on the back of your neck, his touch causing you to flinch, and he forced you to look at him. “I thought you wanted us both, and now that we are here, you refuse to talk to us? Is that how it is?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t answer. You didn’t know what to say, what to do. "Answer him," Jungkook's tone was icy, and your body shook, you were petrified, unsure of what they would do to you. And just like that, you kept your gaze on your lap, and you managed to not say a word all the way back to the end point of the ski lift ride. At the end of the ride, Jungkook and Taehyung guided you back to the cabin, where things between the three of you would change forever.

“If you want two cocks so bad, then fucking take them both.”

You were on your knees, in between the two of them, as they took turns thrusting their dicks into your mouth, one after the other. Their moans filled the room, along with the occasional gagging sound that you made.

Your body was in overdrive; it was as if your brain couldn’t comprehend that your two favorite men in the world were face fucking you both right now.

You didn’t expect it but… you were soaking wet.

“That’s it, show Taehyung how we always do it when he’s not around, don’t be shy baby.”

Taehyung pulled his cock out, and now Jungkook was the one in your mouth. You drooled over his cock, and his hand rested on the back of your head, pushing himself further inside, his errection hitting the back of your throat.

Taehyung took your hand and wrapped it around his cock, and you started to rub him off as you continued to suck Jungkook off. The two men groaned as they hovered over you, and you didn’t think you could hold it any longer.

“I’m wet, really wet, need cock, please.”

At that, Taehyung pulled you onto your feet and picked you up, before laying you down on the bed.

“Wet? Show us then, babe.” Taehyung cooed, pulling your clothes off you, and now Jungkook was in the room as well. “Spread those legs, show us how wet you really are. Do you need cock?"

"Yes, yes, please!" You spread your legs wide, exposing yourself to them, and having both of their eyes set on your pussy made you even wetter.

"This pussy is so greedy, and so fucking needy, it's dripping. Look at that.” Taehyung’s finger lingered down your folds, teasing your entrance. “So wet for us.”

Jungkook got onto the bed, deciding he’d be the first to give you what you want; cock. He hovered above you and slipped his cock in, and you moaned as his length filled you up. You wrapped your arms around him, as he thrust in and out.

This must be a dream.

Taehyung placed a hand on your cheek and turned your face to the side, his hardened cock staring right back at you, and you opened your mouth, inviting him in.

Both men fucked you, and your mind was completely blank.

Taehyung chuckled. “Damn, that pussy really is wet huh, those sounds are something else."

You couldn’t reply, as your mouth was stuffed with his cock, but you knew exactly what he meant, the lewd sounds your pussy was making was embarrassing, but also turned you on more and more. Taehyung’s hands trailed to your chest, kneading your tits. “You love it, don’t you? When we both fuck you. That slutty face tells me everything I need to know, and I bet this greedy pussy is going to come all over his cock soon, won’t it?" He pulled out his cock out of your mouth.

“Yes.. love it.” You tilted your head back, your back arching as Jungkook started hitting you in a good spot. “O-oh…”

Taehyung moved next to Jungkook and his tip teased against your swollen clit, the head rubbing against it, and that nearly sent you over the edge.

“A-ah!” You gripped onto the sheets, as the knot in your lower belly tightened, and your body tensed up, your pussy walls clenching around Jungkook’s cock.

“That’s the spot?” Jungkook teased, gripping onto your thighs to keep you in place as he picked up the pace.

“That does seem to be the spot, look at her face, she loves that spot.” Taehyung started to smack your clit with his cock, and that sent you over the edge, the knot in your stomach exploding, and you came all over Jungkook's cock, a loud cry escaping your mouth. As you came, your pussy milked his cock, hard, and he couldn’t last much longer, his cum shooting deep inside of you, Jungkook rocked his hips back and forth and only stopped when he was sure that every seed was spilled inside of you.

Jungkook pulled out, making way for Taehyung, who eagerly lined his cock up to your entrance. Jungkook came to lay down next to you, pressing his lips against yours as Taehyung pushed every inch into you, filling you up again.

"That's it, take that cock, love, Jungkook really warmed up that pussy for me, hm? It's squeezing my cock, so tight."

Taehyung fucked you with fast and deep strokes, his cock sliding in and out with ease as you were soaking wet, drenching the sheets underneath you. Jungkook started to kiss your tits instead of your lips, his tongue swirling around your nipples.

Your body was completely overwhelmed by pleasure, your head thrown back, and your mouth hanging open, your cries filling the room. You felt Taehyung grab your leg and push it over his shoulder, and pull you closer, his cock hitting deeper and faster, and you didn't know how much longer you'd last.

"Please, more, don't stop, don't stop." You begged, your breathing becoming faster.

Jungkook kissed your neck, "Such a greedy pussy, and it loves being fucked, doesn't it?" He grabbed your hand, holding it as you gripped onto it.

"Mhm, it loves it." You whispered, glancing at both men. Oh they were so perfect, they were everything you ever dreamed of, and more.

"Tell him you love it, baby." Jungkook encouraged.

"L-love it, so much, ah, ah…” You whimpered as Taehyung picked up the pace, your body bouncing up and down the bed, your tits bouncing all over the place, and it was all too much. You reached your high, another orgasm rushing through your body, and you cried as your pussy clenched around his cock.

"Yes, yes, that’s it…” Taehyung grunted, his pace now slow and deep, wanting to feel your pussy massage his cock and then he finally released himself, his hot seeds filling you up, and he rode out his orgasm, until there was nothing left to give.

“Oh…” You whimpered, turning to your side, completely exhausted, closing your eyes for a moment.

In the end, you didn’t have to choose.

#bts x reader #bts smut #bts smut fanfic #bts fanfic #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #bts x female reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x oc #bts smut fic

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luvismenu · 4 months ago

Text

satisfied — knj oneshot (bday special)

pairing: roommate!namjoon x fem!reader

warnings: e2l type shi, nicknames, unprotected sex, eating out (fem! receiving), riding, nipple play, big dick!namjoon, overstimulation, creampie, porn without plot

note: dedicated to @deluluisdasolulu ♡

wc: 1.6k+

♡ — permanent taglist: @wnteraezz @jksctrl @ari420sstuff @jkvias @blaricee @blluee28 @letmekookk @whoa-jo @wobblewobble822 @jkslvsnella @clxssy1997 @nikkinikj @kayleesaltzmann @rrosiitas @naurnonope @lola75111 @somehowukook @redcherrykook @parkinglot-nights @deluluisdasolulu @minghaosimp @hyeon-yi @ririkookiemonster @svtrighthereworld @jmscaffeine

"you. fucking. suck."

"i. don't. care."

unbelievable.

your roommate, kim namjoon, thinks he can do whatever he wants and get away with it. and what annoys you the most is that he always fucking does.

"you can't just bring a bunch of people here and ruin the place and then wait for me to clean this shit up," you grit out, barely holding your frustration.

it's his birthday.

but that doesn't mean you're gonna clean up his mess. you were at work all day, and now you come home to this...

god, there's trash everywhere.

"my birthday wish; clean up this mess for me," he says with a fake pout, plastered on his stupid annoying face.

"no fucking way."

"that's not a nice thing to say to the birthday boy," he frowns, as if he's the victim here.

oh, the fucking audacity.

"i was at work all day, and i had to fucking stay late to finish some stupid paperwork, and now all i want to do is rest. i am not cleaning up your birthday mess, kim namjoon." you cross your arms tightly, trying to keep your voice from raising further.

"aw, miss little angry is stressed," he coos, walking over to the fridge, pulling out a beer bottle like everything's normal.

"it's either you clean up or i'm..." you pause, thinking for a second, "i'll call the cops on you!" you let out a frustrated sigh.

what are you even saying? cops?

"cops?" he chuckles, walking over to you with the beer bottle, towering over you now. his shirt is half unbuttoned, hair messy. he looks you up and down before taking a long sip of his drink. "what, you tryna scare me now? hm?"

oh god, why is this making you horny?

"i-i... you should clean," you stammer, your voice softer than before as you desperately try to get a grip on your mind.

he grins.

he fucking grins.

and not the sweet kind of grin. it's that evil, cocky grin.

but for some reason, you can't seem to get any more words out. he looks hotter than usual today. probably because you haven't had sex in a while.

or maybe because you never noticed how incredibly hot he looks when he's not being a complete pain in the ass.

he leans down, his face close to yours, your noses almost touching. "you look so tired. miss little angry had a bad day, hm?" he tilts his head, teasing you.

"fuck you." you grit out, which only seems to satisfy him more.

"you're so cute when you're all riled up, you know that?" his eyes flicker to your lips before returning to your eyes. "almost too cute to stop me from bending you over and having my way with you."

oh lord have mercy—

no. no. no. you can't give in to his stupid tricks. he's only doing this so you'll clean the whole place. you can't give in. you're stronger than this.

"nice try," you say, pushing him back, forcing some distance between you two.

"i'm gonna go take a shower. you better start cleaning, birthday boy," you say, pointing to the mess of beer bottles and food wrappers. and god, you hope that's not a used condom lying on the floor.

he sighs dramatically. “yes, ma'am.”

before unlocking your door, you spin around, feeling one last wave of anxiety. "wait. please tell me nobody fucked in my room," you scrunch your nose in disgust.

"oh yeah, there was a foursome going on in your room. it was really fun to watch," he says, taking another swig from his bottle.

"what the fuck!?" you exclaim, ready to throw hands.

"relax!! i'm joking,” he laughs. "i may not know much about boundaries, but i don't let people trash your room. little miss angry needs her safe space, right?" he flashes you a grin, almost as if he's mocking you.

you scoff, shaking your head as you finally head to your room, leaving him to deal with the mess.

after your relaxing shower, you spend at least 30 minutes in your room, trying to calm your nerves. you hear some hustle and bustle from outside your door, and you assume he's actually cleaning up.

you feel a little bad.

maybe you were a bit harsh?

it's his birthday, after all.

you baked him cupcakes last night, which took a lot of work since you've never baked before. they weren't perfect, but it still counts—one of the reasons you're tired, since you didn't sleep much.

but it was worth it, considering that all the cupcakes are gone, not even leaving one for you.

you hope he ate most of them.

you open your door after what seems like an hour, finding a tired, shirtless namjoon on the couch. the sight makes you feel something.

wish he could ruin you and—

what?

you're clearly not in your right mind right now.

you walk over to the couch he's sleeping on. he looks up at you, taking in your form. it's the usual shorts and t-shirt, nothing sexy about it. okay, maybe a little inappropriate because you're not wearing anything under those. your perked nipples are visible through the t-shirt, and you notice how his eyes darken.

“good job,” you say, scanning the room.

“thanks, although you forced me to do it,” he sits up on the couch, your stomach right in front of his face, but there's still a little space between you two.

“it's your responsibility,” you say with a smirk.

he looks up at you, returning your smirk, “yeah? can I ask for my birthday wish now?”

“fine, what do you want?” you ask.

he stands up, making you stumble back a little, but he pulls you closer by placing his hands on your hips. leaning into your ear, he whispers, “you.”

and that's it.

you give in.

"oh my— f-fuck!!"

he's got you sprawled on your bed, arms wrapped around your thighs, head moving up and down as he eats your pussy like it's his last meal.

"you taste so fucking good” he gasps as he starts sucking on your clit, his tongue rolling on the sensitive nub. your hand grips his hair urging him closer as you grind against his face

"f-fuck joon, mm so close" you moan, your head thrown back on the pillow from the intense pleasure.

he continues eating you out, his tongue doing wonders to you as you let out shameless gasps and moans.

one of his hands travel to your breast, squeezing it gently. he uses one finger to play with your nipple, rolling and pinching it. you reach out to your other breast, mirroring his actions.

the dirty wet sounds of his eager mouth on you fill the room.

“cum on my face, baby, do it.”

and you do.

you come on his face and he licks up every drop of you.

he sits up with that cocky grin on his face. he takes in the sight of you all spread out and breathless for him.

"we're not done yet, come here," he pats his lap, stroking his already hard length, "ride my cock like the good girl you are."

do you even wanna say no to that?

he helps you settle on his cock, and you wince a little at the stretch.

he is so fucking big.

"you sure you can take it?" he chuckles

"yes, i can," you breathe out, letting him slide deeper into you, and a loud yelp escapes your lips. he groans at the tightness.

"it's okay, baby, go slow," he says, his hands firmly on your hips. you nod, trying to pace yourself.

you move slowly, taking all of him in, and oh fuck, it feels incredible.

your hands grip his broad shoulders as you start bouncing on his thick length. his eyes are drawn to your bouncing tits, and soon enough, his mouth is wrapped around your nipple, sucking and licking it greedily.

"mmfh joon s-so good!" you gasp as you keep moving up and down on his cock. your walls wrap tightly around namjoon's cock, the squelching sounds and messy moans filling the room.

"f-fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his grip on you tightening. he lifts his hips slightly, hitting the perfect spot.

"r-right there, mmfh joon, more!" his cock hits the spot over and over, making you lose control, your body weakening from the overstimulation.

"gonna come for me? hm? already?" he rasps as he slows down, gently placing you on the bed without pulling out. you nod weakly as he continues pounding into you.

"hold it for me, baby, not yet."

you can only hope your neighbors can't hear you because the noises spilling from your mouth sound straight out of porn—loud and messy.

"joon p-please, i wanna cum," you cry out. it’s too much. he’s too much. you need to cum.

"fuck! yes baby, cum with me," he growls as his thrusts grow faster.

"oh y-yes fuck!!" a choked moan leaves you as you release, your legs shaking slightly.

"gonna fill you up, baby," he hisses before thrusting two final times, shooting his cum deep inside you. your mouth hangs open, and your chest rising and falling repeatedly.

he pulls out slowly, collapsing beside you and tugging you close to him.

“happy birthday to you i guess," you breathe out, a smile playing on your lips, and he chuckles in response.

“miss little angry not so angry anymore, hm?” he teases, a grin on his lips. you chuckle, playfully slapping his chest.

“miss little angry satisfied.”

#kim namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon one-shot #knj x reader #bts namjoon #bts smut

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year ago

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The Crew Heads with Reader: Bro Code

G/N. Silly. (Jake Kim, Eli Jang, Johan Seong, Samuel Seo).

"What is that?"

You point at the red mark, the ring of teeth on his tattooed arm and Jake mutters something under his breath.

"What?"

"...Bite." He forces out.

"Courtesy of?" Your eyes flicker over to Eli, who has found a very interesting spot on the floor.

Really, it might be the most interesting thing he has ever seen. He wouldn't be able to remove his eyes from it for love nor money. Not even if Yenna shrieked, screamed, screeched in front of him

"No-one." Jake says, wordlessly agreeing with Eli that the ground is fascinating and staring resolutely at it too.

Because if there is one thing the Crew Heads agree on, it's bro code.

Fighting one another, beating each other up is one thing-

Sure, they might kill each other. Sure, some of them hate each other. It's nothing personal though. Just something they do.

...What real men do. Casual grievous bodily harm, accidental oopsy murder. You know how it goes.

But where you're concerned - snitches get stitches. And stitches from you, doesn’t bear thinking about.

Where you're concerned, the story could be they were all holding hands, skipping along the road, then simultaneously ate shit together. Falling over one by one like dominos.

It would be the utmost worst violation of bro code to tell on each other. Even if you're the one now cleaning up the aftermath.

Under silent oath, a pact formed with just one quick catch of the eye, they promised they would not tell. If you found out, if they confirmed - you would give them hell. A fate worse than death.

"And Johan, let me guess. You fell and gave yourself a blackeye." You arch an eyebrow in his direction.

Johan nods, lips pulled down in a pout and eyes (one fine, one bruised and swollen) narrowed at another spot at the floor. The appeal of the scuffed floorboards is contagious, three of the four Crew Heads gaze now firmly fixed on it.

"No brass knuckles involved?" You ask, and get a short shake of the head in response.

"Just like Samuel's back injury isn't from being thrown on the ground?"

Samuel's eyes dart over once to Jake, then he rearranges his face into a haughty, cold expression. As if that was a ridiculous suggestion and not the truth.

They were absolutely not fighting. They would absolutely not get caught.

"Of course not." He sneers, then pain flashes across his face as a short, sharp spasm shoots through his body.

You resist laughing and spitting out that that's karma for lying.

Instead, you sigh. Still have enough control to refrain from face palming.

Right.

Sure.

However-

As if this all wasn’t obvious enough. Perhaps the most damning evidence of all, is the Converse print on Eli's right cheek.

You look pointedly at Johan's footwear. "And I suppose Eli has become an ambassador for Converse, if he's wearing their logo on his face?”

Eli, on impulse, tries for a nod before his brain catches up and realises how ridiculous that sounds.

You continue on, not missing Eli’s twitch. “It's got nothing to do with you lot fighting, and someone kicking someone in the head, hmm?"

Nervous glances are exchanged.

“Eli didn’t bite Jake? Samuel didn’t give Johan a black eye? Jake didn’t slam Samuel to the ground? Johan didn't give Eli a taste of his shoe?”

This entire conversation is futile. It's clear as day they were fighting. Even a blind, deaf and mute person would be able to tell.

Still.

Bro code.

"No," comes the chorus of voices, and you consider fatally maiming them all yourself.

#who the fuck is eugene anyway #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism fic #jake kim #eli jang #johan seong #samuel seo #jake kim x reader #eli jang x reader #johan seong x reader #samuel seo x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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heartseungs-archive · 5 months ago

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the dreams we’re scared of | l.dh

genre ♠ murder mystery au, thriller, romance, angst

pairings ♠ crime scene investigator! haechan x reader

word count ♠ 17.8k

synopsis ♠ There’s something about seeing a dead body in front of you that makes it more real, almost as if the death is your own. But when your nights get more sleepless with every new victim, Haechan fears you may be in over your head. Especially if a serial killer’s still on the move, watching every move the both of you make.

warnings ♠ kidnapping, mentions of blood, violence, vulgar language, mentions of alcohol (nothing too graphic however this is a murder mystery so dead bodies are described to some relative detail)

info ♠ the idea of csi! haechan is just really sexy. i’ve never actually watched csi

Your footsteps are the only sound that accompanies you at this time of night, besides the occasional lone cricket. Here, the shadows seem longer, and the distance between each streetlight further and further. The one that you pass flickers brokenly, gnats buzzing in and out of your vision.

The darkness is solid enough that you could touch it if you wanted. Yet, with every step you take, it retreats just a little, enough for you to see the tips of your white sneakers against the rough gravel pavement. It continues on until you see the familiar street sign. You’ve walked this alley hundreds of times, but it never gets any better.

You’re strangely tense, but you suppose it’s just because of the jitters that being alone naturally gives. Still, there’s an uneasy feeling resting in your chest, the pace of your breathing slightly heavier.

Tonight feels different. Even the moon is hiding behind the clouds, almost as if it’s scared. It’s nothing, you tell yourself, but your pace gets just that tiny bit faster.

However, there’s a slight dissonance to the footsteps. You’re not the best at hearing, but it doesn’t just seem like an echo.

You pause, just briefly.

The sound of footsteps continues.

Something is very, very wrong, and the feeling of danger seizes you, enough for you to start breaking into a run.

The rapid thudding of someone else’s shoes against the ground follows immediately, and you try to focus on the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears, the cadence of your breathing.

You’re so close to the exit of the alley, the turn to the main road, that you can see the light leaking onto the pavement from the corner of your vision.

You’re so near that you begin to hear the familiar rumble of the cars on the highway when a hand grabs you roughly and you fly back.

A choked scream barely escapes you before your body is slammed against the pavement painfully and your face follows after. You don’t even get to see the man above you, his face veiled.

Darkness surrounds you, heavy and choking and endless, and you sink into it like quicksand, unable to escape.

Your eyes fly open wide, and there’s a soft gasp that escapes you. Around you are the walls of that exact same alley, but sunlight floods through brightly, and you can see the little cracks in the cement, bits of green poking through.

Another difference is that the alley is not deserted, but instead filled with the buzz of chatter, and the occasional chuckle.

The very last, and likely most important difference is that the girl lying dead on the floor isn’t you, but Kim Mijoo, twenty-six years of age, estimated time of death 3.45am.

You stride over, ducking underneath the yellow tape that blocks off the crime scene. For a job so macabre, the vibrant colour seems abnormally cheery and out of place.

“I think I’ve figured it out,” you state to the two men who are there before you are. Doyoung has his arms crossed, worrying his lip tiredly when he turns to face you. Next to him, a man with pink hair is crouched down next to the body, inspecting it closely. When he looks up at you, eyes curious, your breath hitches.

Not the time, Y/N. For god’s sake, there’s a dead body. You scold yourself, but it doesn’t do much.

“I think the assailant grabbed her from behind. There’s very obvious head trauma, but it doesn’t seem to be from a weapon. He probably slammed her head into the gravel, and that’s why there are bits of it embedded in her skin. The wounds on her neck seem like strangling, but there’s no evidence of a struggle. She was likely already unconscious or dead when he did it.” Your face is blank as you describe it, and Doyoung tries to hold back a grimace, but he nods. A glimmer of pride enters your heart, but it’s quickly quashed by a bitter feeling when you look down at Mijoo. Having her name makes it feel personal, almost as if you know her.

Haechan remains silent as he looks at you, gaze heavy. You try to avoid it.

“We’ll go with that for now, and confirm it when we get the medical report. Let’s head back to the office for now, and see what we can get from the evidence,” Doyoung states grimly, before waving over the coroner.

The last you see of Mijoo is her face, bloody and bruised, before it is zipped up smoothly into a pristine white bag. Still, your eyes follow as she’s dragged into a van unceremoniously like a piece of cargo.

Doyoung is already ahead of the both of you, getting into his own car.

“You need to stop putting yourself into the shoes of the victims,” Haechan mutters lowly, and you jump at his voice. In the sunlight, his faded pink hair is almost bronze. His face lacks any amusement, and you shrug.

“It gets the job done. You saw how Doyoung looked. Everyone’s stressed,” you defend.

“Still, that can’t be good for anyone. Or healthy.” There’s a sliver of concern in Haechan’s voice, and you smile shakily at him. Haechan’s right, like he is most of the time. There’s still cold sweat beading at the base of your neck from your little spiel, and a chill that refuses to leave. Still, it’s insignificant compared to the fear that Mijoo must have felt, and that’s what you tell yourself each time you allow your overly vivid imagination to aid you.

The both of you remain quiet on the journey back, and you try to enjoy the bustling scenery of Seoul that passes you by. However, Mijoo’s face keeps flashing in your memory, unwilling to leave. You’re quite sure it won’t until the case is closed.

When you finally enter the station, you’re immediately hit in the face by the freezing air-conditioning, and the frantic buzz of activity. Neither you nor Haechan slow your footsteps, however, as the both of you turn a corner and take the private staff elevator up to the sixth floor. The office here is much quieter, an almost deathly calm, which you suppose is appropriate for the kind of work you do.

You’ve been in the Major Crime Division for three years, and the work only gets more interesting day by day.

“Y/N. Haechan. Doyoung’s waiting for the both of you in his office.” Jaemin’s desk is near the front of the office, and he’s always the first to welcome the both of you with a smile. You try to grin back, but Jaemin doesn’t expect much. He’s obviously heard of the events that transpired this morning, and he was the one to get the civilian call when the body was reported.

You don’t bother to knock when you slide open the glass door of Doyoung’s office, which is as clean as the first day you walked in and he handed you your badge. A wooden nameplate lies on his desk, the word ‘Superintendent’ emblazoned in glossy letters.

“Here’s what information we have on her. Kim Mijoo works as a waitress at a bar in ltaewon, which explains why she was out so late. She lives in Gangseo, and was murdered along Gangseo-ro 76 gil.”

You hear Haechan’s sharp intake of breath at Doyoung’s words, and know that he’s thinking the exact same as you. Gangseo has the highest violent crime rate in Seoul, and for good reason. No one in their right mind would go there late at night, unless they had to. For her to be a waitress in Itaewon and live in Gangseo…it was likely that Mijoo wasn’t just a waitress, but offered more to her customers.

It seemed in poor taste to point out the obvious truth, and you’re grateful for the silence that befalls the room. She had already died an undignified death that she didn’t deserve, even if most people on the street would sneer at her choice of occupation.

Yet, you saw it for what it was. A woman who needed to keep a roof over her head somehow. Not so different from yourself.

Despite his tendency to crack jokes in inappropriate situations, you’re grateful for Haechan’s tactfulness now, as he remains sombre, standing next to you.

“Apparently, she’s made a report for sexual harassment against a man by the name of Yang Seojun, but that happened two years ago. Still, it’s one of the only leads we have.”

You look up sharply, your mind spinning through possibilities. “It has to be someone she knows. The crime seems premeditated, and they must have known her path home. Seojun may be a main suspect, but it could very well be a customer or a colleague,” you reasoned.

“I suppose we’ll have to make a trip down to Itaewon then,” Haechan replies simply, hands tucked into his slacks. Doyoung nods. “The both of you go ahead. I’m still waiting for forensics to get back to us. I want the both of you off work punctually though, got it?”

His tone is stern, but you nod, knowing that he’s doing it out of concern. For all his coldness and sharp tongue, Doyoung is a good superior to you and Haechan. He doesn’t misuse his power, doesn’t make unreasonable requests, and pulls his weight as much as anyone else. He’s part of the reason why you’ve enjoyed working here so much, even if the pay is less-than-ideal.

You’re back in Haechan’s car again before you know it, the address of the bar keyed into his GPS. He drums his hands on the steering wheel, occasionally humming to whatever song is playing out of the speakers.

“Can you not look so damn excited? We have a crime to solve on our hands,” you huff, levelling a sharp glance at Haechan. He simply shrugs in acknowledgement. “Unlike you, I’m not some psychic empath. Itaewon is fun, even if we’re technically on official work.”

“You better not run off,” you warn dangerously, and Haechan smiles smugly. “I won’t drink until the questioning is done, okay?”

“That’s fine, I suppose.”

The journey down to Itaewon is slowed by the heavy buzz of traffic and heralded by the slow change of grey-toned skyscrapers to neon lights. The area that both of you are in is further from the most crowded parts of Itaewon and looks much older.

“This place is deserted,” Haechan mutters when he’s done parking his car, keys casually dangled in one hand. You narrowly avoid a puddle that’s filled with trash and something that's very evidently not water, trying not to wince at the smell of vomit.

“Well, it’s a Monday. I doubt many people would be out partying at this time,” you reply as the both of you push open a glass door that is smudged with grime. The stairs are narrow as you descend, and your grip on the railing is tight.

When you reach the bottom, however, the walls are noticeably newer, leading to two dark wooden doors that are in much better condition. Haechan knocks sharply thrice, before stepping back.

After what seems like an eternity, the door opens, and a lady steps out. Soft jazz music escapes from the bar into the cramped hallway that both of you are standing in. She’s wearing a long-sleeved black dress, her hair pulled back in a neat bun with two perfectly-placed curls framing her face. Her eyes are catlike, sharp as she takes in the both of you.

“We’re not open yet. Come back in three hours.” However, before she can shut the door, Haechan quickly jabs his foot in. In close quarters, he towers over her, his expression void of emotion. If you didn’t know him, you would probably be intimidated. Still, the woman’s gaze remains steely, her hand resolutely on the door handle. You suppose she has plenty of experience with troublemakers, and Haechan’s actions are barely a cause for concern.

“We’re conducting an investigation on behalf of the National Police Agency. Senior Inspectors Lee Haechan and Y/N L/N, Major Crime Division. I’m afraid you’ll have to let us in.” Haechan’s tone is polite, but with an underlying sharpness that tells you he’s not joking.

If he has to, he’ll break down this door to get what he needs.

However, the lady just smiles even wider, her pearly-white teeth a stark contrast from the shade of blood-red that her lips are painted. “I’ve had people come in here telling me they’re superintendents, executives, chaebols, and diplomats. Most of them were vastly overselling their identities. Unless you have proof or a warrant, I don’t want to see you here.”

“You have an employee. Kim Mijoo. She left this place at around three am on Friday,” you interject, and Haechan turns back to look at you.

Something flashes in the woman’s eyes, and she immediately focuses on you. “Did Mijoo get into any trouble?”

You feel as if you detect a hint of fear in her voice, but you ignore it for now. “Not trouble. She was murdered. We’re currently investigating, so it would be wise of you to not obstruct a public official’s duty.”

There is a beat of silence, and then two. Your eyes remain fixed on her as she swallows, eyes blinking minutely. Finally, the pressure on Haechan’s feet is eased, and she retreats backwards.

“I suppose there’s no avoiding my civic duty, then. Come in.” Her voice is level when she speaks again, with no evidence of any shock.

The bar inside is surprisingly upscale, considering its dilapidated exterior. The walls are lacquered wood with hints of gold, and your shoes clack softly against the black marble floor. You follow her past the bar counter, into a hallway filled with curtains. She pushes one aside to reveal a private room, gesturing for the both of you to take a seat.

The plush velvet of the armchair is soft against your back, but your back remains stiffly straight. You’re never really able to relax while on duty, while Haechan easily slouches back into a relaxed posture.

“We’ve got an hour until my employees come in, so that’s the time you have. There aren’t any cameras in this room either, so don’t worry about that.”

The image in her file finally corresponds with the woman sitting in front of you, who looks vastly different with make-up. This is Song Chaeyeon, thirty-four years of age and the owner of the bar that Mijoo has been working at for the past eighteen months.

“Great. We just have a few questions. What is your relationship with the victim?”

“She’s just an employee. We are friendly enough, I suppose. However, she is much closer to a few of the other girls that work here.”

“Do you know anyone who might have had a motive for the crime? An unruly customer, perhaps?” Chaeyeon shakes her head.

“Our customers are all regulars. They’re familiar with the girls here. No one would try anything, as far as I know. However, if the girls get personally involved with their clients, then….I can’t guarantee. But no one would know that except them.” You understand what she’s insinuating. Prostitution may be outlawed, but there are so many other possibilities.

“We’ll need a list of all the employees here, along with any customers that Mijoo has interacted with, even in passing. In addition, we’ll need corroboration for the whereabouts of everyone on that list on the night of the murder. It would also be good if we could speak to the employees that Mijoo is close to today. Otherwise, they can come down to the station within the week,” you say monotonously as if reciting a script. This isn’t your first murder investigation, but it is the most confusing one.

Haechan has remained silent throughout the entire thing, but it’s no surprise to you. He prefers not to be involved in the technical procedure, which you’ve naturally taken over instead. As much as either of you hate to say it, he’s the muscle when the both of you are out on official duty. Although you’ve never encountered any real danger, or deliberately put yourself in a situation that might warrant serious risk, it feels good having a safeguard, a partner to watch your back.

And once the both of you return to the station, he’s the first one to throw himself headfirst into research and pore over the information you’ve gathered, while you’re there mainly to bounce ideas and help with organization.

“You can speak to them today. Everyone will be here, as we get ready for the week. If the both of you are willing to wait in this room, they should be here soon.” You nod, attempting a polite smile. Despite her cold demeanour, she has been helpful, and you have no interest in getting on her bad side unnecessarily, especially since this is one of the few sources of information you have.

She casts another glance at Haechan, who remains unmoving. You nudge him with your elbow, but he ignores it, only humouring you with a tilt of his head. After a pause, she leaves, and the only thing that remains is the unfamiliar scent of her floral perfume.

“Thoughts?” You finally give in to your curiosity, wondering what’s kept Haechan silent all this time.

“I don’t particularly trust her, but we’ll have to work with it,” he states, resting his hands on his knees while the both of you are temporarily allowed some solitude.

The first person you interview is a shaky, nervous waiter who barely looks past twenty. He responds to each one of your questions with a stutter, evidently distraught from the moment he walked into the room. From the way you meet Haechan’s eyes and he sighs, you know this isn’t the person you’re looking for.

The second one is more promising, however. If Chaeyeon is to be believed, this is Mijoo’s closest friend at her workplace, a girl who only joined a few months after her.

“Xiaoting. You’re not a local, are you?” Haechan asks, and she shakes her head. “Moved here a decade ago. I’ve got my papers at home, if you need to verify that.” Her voice is terse, as if anticipating the question you have on the tip of your tongue.

Sometimes, you find yourself hating it too, the way they shrink back from you, knowing the authority you represent. It’s most definitely not a burden for you to shoulder, and neither is the blame on Haechan, but he understands, squeezing your hand comfortingly and taking over the questions.

“There’s no need. Thank you for cooperating with this investigation. We asked Chaeyeon this just now, but do you know anyone that Mijoo was closely involved with?”

“Close enough to motivate a murder?” Her tone is direct, and you are slightly taken aback, but you nod.

“There are a few that come around here and there, but I see Woo Eunhyuk with Mijoo most often. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of him, but Yang Seojun. He was Mijoo’s ex-boyfriend.”

“The one that she made a harassment report against,” Haechan mutters absentmindedly.

“Yeah. They broke up about three years ago. But he kept coming to find her, and got drunk here. Smashed a few bottles in the process too. I’ve never seen him threaten her, though. But if you’re asking me who murdered her, I’d only have one obvious suspect,” she replies, and you hum in thought. It’s plausible enough. A classic story of a violent ex and a crime of passion fits the bill a little too perfectly, and it’s definitely something the newspapers would love. It would be easy to simply close the investigation there, but you’re not too excited to come to a conclusion just yet.

“You’ve been very helpful, Xiaoting. If there’s nothing, I think we’re done here.” Xiaoting nods, but she seems to hesitate slightly, as if there’s something she wishes to say.

“Mijoo was my friend. I know what other people think of us, working in places like this, but she didn’t deserve any of that,” she says nervously, eyes aimed at her lap. Her shoulders are sunken, and you feel a sense of sorrow for the girl. She’s likely no older than you.

“Feel free to call us if you need anything, or if you think of any other information that might be helpful. We’ll do our best,” you reply, and Xiaoting smiles gratefully at the both of you.

As you and Haechan exit, the image of Xiaoting sitting in the room alone, shoulders sunken, lingers. You jolt slightly when you realise it’s already dark outside, the sun rapidly setting. The streets are slightly more crowded now, and your phone lights up with a text from Doyoung. Despite the fatigue, you smile at his message, which is an insistent reminder to get off work.

“You know what? I think I need a drink,” you state, rubbing at your temples, and Haechan lets out a scoff.

“Drinking when we have work tomorrow? How unlike you,” he teases, but Haechan is quick to stride towards the nearest bar he sees, the red pop-up tent visible from a mile away.

He holds the curtain open for you as you step in, the odd chivalry of the gesture causing your lips to tilt up. Inside the small space, the sound of chatter seems intensified, your other senses dulled by the steam that billows above the food.

You and Haechan find yourselves a table in the corner, the feeling of the rickety stool strangely comforting. Before you know it, there are four bottles of soju on the table and two steaming bowls of kalguksu in front of you, along with a few sides. You realise that neither of you have had a meal since you headed down to the crime scene in the late morning, and you’re starving. For a while, both you and Haechan don’t talk at all, instead focused on the food.

“I know Doyoung said we’re off work, but I think we have an obvious target. Even then, something about this doesn’t feel right. I feel like there’s more to this.”

“Xiaoting said that he hadn’t been to the bar in months, since the last time he appeared and Mijoo had to chase him out. So why would he murder her now?” he questions, and you shrug.

“Premeditated crimes take time. Even then, six months is a long time to wait to kill someone, I suppose.” You’re lost in thought, and Haechan grabs the empty shot glass from your hand to refill it.

“Something might have instigated it. A confrontation, maybe.”

“Do you think we can get access to Mijoo’s phone? Text messages, perhaps.”

“From what I heard, the water damage was a little too much for the old model. But Jisung and Chenle will see what they can do,” he assures, and you nod, deciding to leave it at that for now. As much as you enjoy your work, you don’t wish to pester Haechan with thoughts on it, not when the entire purpose of this meal is to unwind.

The first day is always the worst day, and it doesn’t get better until the both of you solve the case. And then the cycle starts all over again.

You watch as Haechan orders two more bottles, and you squint at him, confused. “Didn’t we agree on four bottles?”

“We’re not university students anymore, Y/N. You can handle a bit more than two bottles. If not, I’ll just drink the rest,” is Haechan’s smooth reply, and in your slightly tipsy state, you don’t question his statement.

The both of you had instituted that rule for both your sakes after a bad test had the both of you downing ten bottles and waking up with a splitting headache and no memory of the night before. Four bottles were comfortable enough that you felt the effects, but outside of the dangerous territory where you might do things you would regret.

Two hours later, there’s only one full bottle left on the table, and you’re really feeling the effects of the alcohol now, while the man in front of you is still relatively sober, the flush on his neck the only betrayal of his sobriety. Haechan wavers occasionally in your vision, and you grin at him.

As much as you don’t believe in using alcohol to avoid your problems, it feels nice to have it temporarily shifted to the back of your mind, clouded by the drowsiness that is quickly flooding into your limbs.

“Hello, Hyuckie,” you mumble to no one in particular, but Haechan perks up. He hasn’t heard the nickname in years, and you only seem to use it when you’re tipsy or extremely tired. Usually both. He takes a quick glance at his watch. It’s half past ten, and he runs calculations through his head. The both of you have to be in the office at nine tomorrow, and you wake up at seven-thirty.

“Y/N, we should go,” he says, tugging at your arm, but you only look up at him, smiling blearily. Up close, your face is flushed, your eyes clouded as you blink drowsily to clear your vision. Your bleary-eyed expression is cute, Haechan thinks, but he quickly dismisses the thought in favour of pulling you up from the seat and towards the exit.

He needs to get you home. Otherwise, you’re going to be dead on your feet from exhaustion tomorrow.

He’s quick to hail a cab while keeping an insistent grip on your arm to ensure you don’t wander off. You’re much more excitable when you’re drunk, a complete opposite from your usually composed self. It’s a direct contrast from Haechan, who’s loud when sober and withdraws into himself once the alcohol hits. And as much as he finds the way you act endearing, he’s also half-terrified he’ll turn around to see you gone in the crowd of people.

The entire drive, the taxi driver keeps glancing back at the both of you, and Haechan thinks it’s because he’s terrified that one of you might puke your guts out into his car. When the car stops, he slips the elderly man a few extra notes, before helping you out gingerly.

He lets out a sigh of relief when the both of you are finally outside your apartment door, and Haechan reaches underneath the doormat for the spare keys, not trusting your hand-eye coordination right now.

He’s halfway in and his shoes are off before he realises you haven’t followed him in, instead leaning against the wall of the corridor half-asleep.

“You are the most troublesome person I know,” he complains as he drags you in, only to be met with a weak hit on his back.

“I wonder what everyone at the office would say if they knew that you were prone to such violent tendencies,” Haechan mutters, only to be hit another time.

“They would say…that you’re a big bully. Who’s always stubborn and makes me do all the boring work,” you retort. However, Haechan can’t take you very seriously, especially when your eyes are closed while you say it. He lets out a barely-audible laugh, and immediately guides you to your room, where you’re quick to lie down.

“Well, this big bully is the one getting you home safe and into bed. You’ll thank me when you wake up,” he says, unlacing your sneakers, but he looks up when he doesn’t get a response. Your breathing has slowed, and Haechan realises you must have fallen asleep. Despite himself, he smiles.

You’ll complain about sleeping with your work clothes on, but there’s nothing much Haechan can do. He’s done a rather decent job of removing your makeup, or at least that’s what he thinks as he disposes of the wipes in the bin. There’s a set of his clothes that he keeps here for occasions such as these, and he’s quick to make himself comfortable on your couch.

You had added a few more pillows a few months ago at his protest, and Haechan found it much easier to fall into a drowsy state, addled by the alcohol.

His last thought is of you, before his eyes finally close and he drifts off.

“Can anyone get in touch with Woo Eunhyuk? I’ve been ringing his line all morning,” you state, frustration creeping into your tone. Of all the inconveniences to befall you, this one feels particularly pointless.

“He’s currently on a business trip in the US and won’t be back till the end of the month,” Jaemin replies, and you try not to sigh. A month is a long time, especially when he’s a prime suspect.

“If he was just a normal businessman, we’d have a much easier time,” Haechan points out, and you glance at him. “What do you mean?”

“Searched the guy up out of curiosity. He has a net worth of twenty million.” Jaemin lets out a low whistle at that, and you crumple the paper in your fist unwittingly. You understood what Chaeyeon meant now, and found it almost befitting. Itaewon was a place where you could find anything and anyone, where the two opposite ends of society could be found in the same room, mingling. It was a place of enjoyment, of indulgence, but also of danger.

“Well then, nothing we can do but keep looking. Seojun’s been brought in already, by the way,” Doyoung reminds, and you grit your teeth.

Today will be another long day.

You make a beeline for the pantry, filling up a glass of water and popping a Panadol before anyone can notice.

Out of the blue, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching the office, before a man rounds the corner, a police officer behind him.

Yang Seojun is here.

“Speak of the devil,” Haechan mutters under his breath as he observes Mijoo’s ex-boyfriend and the prime suspect in your case. At first glance, he looks unassuming, with a white blouse tucked neatly into khaki shorts and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses framing his face. Even though his shoes look a little scuffed, he looks normal. Typical.

Nothing like a man who murdered a woman in cold blood, but you’ve learnt from previous cases that most of the time, the more innocent the suspect looks, the viler their crimes.

“Yang Seojun, is it? I’m sure you’re aware of why you’re here,” you state when you’re finally in the interrogation room, Haechan next to you. Outside, Doyoung watches intently on the screen.

“I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re asking.” There’s a wild look in his eyes, starkly different from the blank stare he had when he was first brought in. He’s reminiscent of a cornered animal, and it fills you with a strange sort of uneasiness.

“Relax, it’s not time for that yet. Where were you on the night of the murder?” Haechan questions, fingers drumming gently on the table. His face is illuminated by the glare of the laptop screen, reading glasses perched on his nose.

“At home.”

“Anyone who can provide an alibi?”

“I live alone.”

“You have two sexual harassment reports filed against you and one for disorderly behaviour, along with a report detailing your history with alchoholism. Is that correct?” Yang Seojun’s file feels heavy in your hands, but you’re familiar with it now after flipping through it incessantly.

He nods. “But I’m in rehabilitation now. And I haven’t…the report wasn’t proven. I didn’t harass Mijoo, I swear. I loved her. You have to believe me,” Seojun pleads, his hands on the table.

You swallow as you meet Seojun’s insistent gaze, averting your eyes from him. You’re not sure what to believe, which you suppose is the worst part of doing a job like this. The suspicion and doubt that it casts over everything, where you have to ignore your gut instinct because of the kind of people you deal with.

“Someone will come in later to verify your statement. You’ll be kept in custody for the next forty-eight hours. It would be a good idea to contact your lawyer, or any members of family.”

“I don’t have a lawyer. Or any other members of family,” he says lowly, and you suck in a breath, looking at Haechan, who seems as fatigued as you are. However, before either of you can respond, there’s a loud banging on the door, before it swings open.

“Jaemin, we’re right here. You don't have to break down the door,” Haechan chides. However, you’re unable to be amused at the joke, a concerned frown on your face. Jaemin is careful and gentle. He doesn’t bang on doors unnecessarily, or ever. However, he’s now frantic, eyes darting back and forth in a panic.

“Y/N. Haechan. There’s another body. They found it at the Han River. I don’t-” Haechan shoots up from the chair, immediately pushing Jaemin out of the room as he curses under his breath.

Seojun looks as taken aback at the news as you are, but you’re not willing to deny the possibility that he might be an excellent actor. You attempt to assess his response to no avail, and instead give up in favour of following after Jaemin. The piercing scrape of your chair against the floor causes you to cringe slightly, but you quickly recover.

“God damn it, Jaemin. The fucking suspect is in the room. You can’t just burst in and say that.”

Haechan’s tone is harsh, understandably so. However, any disagreements now will only make things even worse. Jaemin stands, looking admonished, and you place a gentle hand on Haechan’s arm to pull him back. Haechan’s eyes meet yours, and you remain silent, looking at him meaningfully. After what seems like a moment too long, Haechan steps back, running a hand roughly through his hair.

“Doyoung left to go down already. I-I’ll give you guys the address,” Jaemin forces out, getting a post-it and marker from his desk. His hands are trembling as he does so, the writing shaky and barely legible. Your heart pangs looking at him, but you know he’ll be fine eventually.

Now, you and Haechan have another body to inspect.

“Renjun, forensic pathologist. Good to meet you.” The man standing in front of you extends his arm out, and you smile tightly back as you shake his hand, grip firm. His features are delicate, pale white skin standing out sharply against his harshly cropped black hair. In his hand is a Ziploc bag, a few test tubes resting inside.

“I’ve completed the autopsy, and the likely cause of death is suffocation. However, the body has been in there for at least a week and putrefaction has set in extensively, so we can’t be entirely sure.”

Two weeks. That’s before even Mijoo’s death, and you can tell Haechan is thinking the same thing from his sharp exhale.

‘However, it seems like there are marks on the neck that have been made with a sharp weapon. They don’t seem like feeding marks from animals, which are on other parts of the body,” Renjun continues stoically, and you attempt to quell your nausea, which appeared the moment you saw the girl’s body, bloated and greenish-blue.

Gritting your teeth, you force yourself to nod, uttering a note of thanks to Renjun. Haechan follows after, patting Renjun on the back. His eyes had lit up with recognition at the sight of the forensic pathologist, and you realised they must have been colleagues at some point. Before Haechan came to your current workplace, he had a brief stint in pathology, while you had specialised in criminology. It was another reason why Doyoung had paired the both of you together. Combined, Haechan’s and your expertise made the perfect duo to assist him.

“On the bright side, the weather’s cold now. If it was summer, we might not even have a body anymore,” Haechan utters, and you rub your hands together reflexively. He’s trying to take your mind off the murder, but it’s quite difficult, considering this is literally what the both of you are paid to do.

“Seoul hasn’t seen a serial killer in twenty-five years. However, if these two cases are unlinked, that means we’ve got two murderers to find. Which just might be worse,” Doyoung replies, and you’re sure that the swirling worry in his orbs is reflected in yours.

“And we barely got anything from Seojun’s interrogation too. There isn’t any CCTV footage from where Mijoo was killed, and we haven’t been able to determine where the body from the river was dumped yet.”

“If the river freezes over, we’re fucking screwed,” you continue, now realizing that the situation is much direr than you expected. There are little leads, two dead bodies, and the time is quickly ticking away.

You’ll die before you let this become a cold case.

“Come on. We won’t be any more good standing here than back at the station.” Haechan tugs your arm in the direction of the car, and you follow him mindlessly. The trees around you are barren, the roads and buildings a shade of dusty grey. Winter is usually your favourite season, but all it does now is fill you with a sense of numbing coldness.

You’re flipping through the autopsy report when Haechan comes to your desk, two coffee mugs in hand. “Thanks,” you say as you take a large sip, feeling the warmth course through your body.

The newest victim is Park Sunhee, twenty-three years old. She was last seen on her university campus, attending a lecture on a Friday morning. And then no one heard of her whereabouts, and her friends assumed she had gone home to visit her family over the winter break.

Until her cold body washed up on the shore of the Han river, discovered by a horrified couple.

What’s the link between the both of them? Is there even one? Think, Y/N, think.

Haechan can see the invisible gears turning in your head, and he decides to leave you to it, going back to his desk. Despite the fact that both of you have this case on your hands, there’s still plenty of administrative work to clear. He takes the stack of unread files from where they sit untouched on your table, and you’re so lost in thought that you don’t even realise

Until your personal phone rings, jolting you out of your reverie. You make sure the door closes behind you before you speak again.

“This is L/N Y/N. May I know who I am speaking to?”

”Hello.” The voice that comes out is a smooth timbre, almost pleasing to the ear. It’s obviously a man, and you furrow your eyebrows, not recognizing who it is.

“Apologies for disturbing you. This is Woo Eunhyuk. I tried calling the station and my call did not get through. Is now a good time?”

The businessman, you realize. And suspect number two. You immediately get out of your chair and exit the glass doors of the office, Haechan’s eyes following you. You’re known not to take personal calls during work hours, so why the change now? Still, he remains in his chair, unmoving.

“You can speak now,” you say.

“My secretary just informed me of what happened to Mijoo. I’m sorry for calling back so late. Quite unfortunate, isn’t it?”

Your first thought is that he doesn’t seem to find it very unfortunate at all, but you suppose everyone has a different way of coping with loss. After all, you’re not even sure if he and Mijoo are as close as Xiaoting claims. For all you know, the poor man has nothing to do with any of this.

“Apologies for the inconvenience caused, Mr Woo, but we’ll need you to come down to the station as soon as you return. I hope you can understand.” You’re pacing across the hallway as you say it, and you’re not entirely sure why you feel slightly intimidated by the man on the phone.

“Of course. I’ll be there within the week. Y/N, was it? I’ll remember the name,” he mutters, and there’s almost a smug charm to the way he speaks. The way he says your name rubs you off the wrong way, and you find yourself shivering despite the lack of air-conditioning in the room.

“Senior Inspector Y/N. You may refer to me as that. If you need anything else, do call the station.” you say coldly, and hear what seems to be a muffled chuckle before you hang up. However, it’s cut off much too quickly for you to be sure.

“Hey, what was that?” Haechan asks, and you’re about to tell him, but you hesitate. He’d definitely worry if he knew that Woo Eunhyuk called you personally, and you don’t want to add more unnecessary burden to the case. After all, he’s already coming down to the station by this week.

“Nothing. Just a family friend asking something,” you respond, smiling slightly, and Haechan nods, turning back to his computer.

“Sorry for making you come in so late. Two days before New Year’s Eve, no less,” you say, attempting to plaster a polite smile on your face. Opposite you sits Woo Eunhyuk, in a tailored suit and hair gelled back neatly. The watch on his hand likely costs more than your yearly salary, but you ignore it.

“It’s my fault for being overseas and returning at the last minute. Honestly, if there hadn’t been so many delays at the airport, I would have saved you much more time.” His teeth are pearly-white and perfectly aligned as he smiles at you, and you can’t help but see the disparity between him and Mijoo’s ex-boyfriend.

“I’ll keep this short then. I’ll need information about your relationship with Mijoo and your whereabouts on the day itself.”

“I met Mijoo one year ago. The bar is one I patronise often, and I bring my clients there. Mijoo was overseeing our tables quite a few times, and she was good at memorising preferences and striking up a conversation, so I tipped her extra to wait on my tables when I was there.”

“Did your relationship with her ever extend outside of the workplace?” Your question seems to make Eunhyuk pensive, and he shifts in his seat before nodding.

“We were romantically involved for a while, and I will admit we were quite close. Physically and emotionally. But she eventually broke it off because of work, and we maintained a professional relationship. We were good friends up until her death.” There’s a note of sorrow in his voice now, and Eunhyuk stares off blankly into space as he says it. Does he still love her? It sounds so different from the voice you heard on the phone, but you suppose the questions are forcing him to relive unwanted memories.

However, he clears his throat, snapping out of the temporary trance. A smile makes its way onto his face again, so rapidly that it confuses you.

“On the night she passed away, I was in my study. My house staff are usually sleeping at that time, so no one can verify it. However, I can send you the footage from the security cameras in my foyer and garage. Would that be sufficient to prove that I was home?” He asks, and you nod hesitantly.

When Eunhyuk leaves, you’re left with the thumb drive of his security footage, which you run through. He isn’t lying. Which you suppose leaves you with one obvious option. Still, you feel as if there’s something missing, tugging at your brain, but you can’t remember what. A confirmation of some sort, to verify your suspicions.

The file on Park Sunhee is painfully thin, but everything you need to know is there. She goes to Yonsei University and majors in architecture and works a part-time job at a cafe.

Your mind comes to a screeching halt, the image of Yang Seojun flashing into your mind.

Yang Seojun in the interrogation room, wild-eyed and frantic.

Yang Seojun in the interrogation room, wearing a Yonsei University jersey.

Your hands are trembling as you switch on your laptop, but you keep going until you find Seojun’s suspect report.

It feels inevitable, the few moments that hang in the balance before you scroll down to what you’re looking for.

Major: Architecture, 2nd year, reads the report, and despite everything, a slight smile makes its way onto your face. You immediately pick up your phone, and the ringing of the call tone is the only thing that you can hear.

“Doyoung. I figured it out.”

It all seems to happen too fast for you to process.

There’s a final interrogation with Seojun before he’s dragged off, the last reckoning for him to defend himself.

However, Seojun seems defeated, almost withdrawn. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he’s considerably thinner than the last time you saw him. However, he doesn't resist when the officers come, handcuffs ready.

“There are witnesses who verified seeing him with Sunhee last, and that they dated for about three months before a messy breakup. He was also at the Han River late at night a month before, which corresponds with the estimated time of Sunhee’s death,” was what you had said to Doyoung and Haechan the morning before. They had nodded, Doyoung patting you on the back gently in commendation. You had finally allowed a glimmer of pride to make its way onto your face.

It fits the bill almost too perfectly, like a poorly written plot for a television show. Yet, you’re sure of it like you’ve never been surer of anything else.

There’s a gentle peace that fills you as you watch Seojun leave, even as the way he holds your gaze unsettles you.

“It’s over,” Haechan mumbles, and your shoulders sag, but you feel light.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Happy New Year!” Jaemin exclaims, and you jump at the sound of the champagne bottle popping. You’re smiling, and it’s the most genuine smile you’ve had in the past two months.

The champagne goes down smoothly, leaving a trail of fizzy bubbles in its wake. Even Doyoung’s happier, mouth wide open in a toothy grin. Renjun’s here too, along with Chenle and Jisung, the evidence technicians. You’ve all worked together, and you’ve made it.

“Good job, everyone. To a new year,” Doyoung toasts, barely catching himself from stumbling. Everyone cheers, and you simply grin from where you’re sitting with Haechan. He meets your gaze, and tilts his head, refusing to tear his eyes away from you. For some reason, you feel your cheeks heating up, and you quickly avert your gaze.

You’re sure that if you looked at him now, he’d be smirking, the cocky bastard.

Solving the case has left you all too heady and excited, which is a bad condition to make decisions in. You’re tempted to be impulsive, now that there’s less to worry about. You shake your head in a futile attempt to clear it, and hastily get up, making a beeline for the hallway, away from the festivities.

“Y/N.” Haechan’s voice is distinctly clear in the silence of the hallway, and you turn to look at him from where you’re leaning against the wall, mug in hand, It’s quite funny, really, how Doyoung had forgotten to bring champagne glasses, forcing all of you to use the coffee cups instead.

“Donghyuck,” you reply, and Haechan pauses slightly. He supposes he’ll never really get used to you using his birth name, but he doesn’t particularly mind it. He leans against the wall with you, shoulder to shoulder, and the both of you stand like that for a while, in comfortable silence.

“Do you remember when we were in our third year of university? When we had that stupid argument over whether a criminal justice major or a forensic science major was more important?” You suddenly ask, and Haechan lets out a laugh.

“Of course I do. You didn’t talk to me for a week after that,” he teases, and you huff in exasperation.

“Well yeah, because you were annoying,” you whine, and Haechan simply rolls his eyes.

“Sure, whatever you say. Why are you bringing it up now, though?” Haechan asks, gaze alight with curiosity. You remain quiet for a while, and Haechan’s about to repeat his question when you finally respond.

“I’m just thinking about what twenty-two-year-old Y/N and Donghyuck would say if they saw us now. I think they would be proud,” you murmur, and Haechan immediately grabs your hand, flashing a soft smile at you.

“Yeah. I think they would.”

“Y/N! Haechan! What are you guys doing out here? Come back in. Jisung brought cake,” Chenle shouts from where he’s standing, and your attention is immediately drawn to him.

“Come on, let’s go,” Haechan urges, tugging you along by your arm without a second thought.

“Wait. The phone’s ringing. I’ll get it,” you say once you enter the office. Everyone else is too caught up in rowdy conversation to hear it, and you attempt to balance the paper plate that Renjun handed to you, a slice of cake in the middle.

“Hello, this is Officer Kim from the Metropolitan Police Agency in Gangnam.”

“Yes, how may I help you?”

Your attention is quickly drawn to the rest, however, as you realise they’ve started counting down.

It happens in slow-motion, as most momentous things do.

Five. The words of the officer on the phone sink in, and you blink slowly.

Four. Your grip on the receiver loosens, and you feel it slip from your hands.

Three. The cake follows quickly after, landing in a mushy heap on the ground.

Two. The barely-audible, confused voice of Officer Kim rings out, asking if you can still hear him.

One. You sink to the ground, unmoving, not daring to breathe. No. This can’t be real.

It’s like there’s a muffle over your ears, as if you’re submerged in water, even as you’re vaguely aware that the other guys are cheering while watching the fireworks come up from the city centre. It feels like hours before the office suddenly falls silent, and they realise that you’re on the floor, champagne spilt, though it was likely less than a minute.

Haechan’s the first to enter your line of sight, his pink hair in your peripheral vision. His face comes into focus despite the blur of your surroundings.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” He’s crouched down to your level, hands on your shoulders, eyes worried as he scans you for signs of injury.

Your mouth refuses to form words, even as you look up at him, eyes desperate. The only thing you can do is shake your head insistently.

As if that will change the situation.

Doyoung, observant as ever, is the first to pick up the receiver. Haechan watches as his expression turns stone-faced, and he hangs up.

The office is silent, everyone else looking at Doyoung, holding their breaths.

“What is it,” Haechan demands, his tone firm as he holds Doyoung’s gaze. There’s very little that shocks Doyoung, but Haechan thinks this might just be the first.

“Another body. Still fresh. Barely died an hour ago, in fact.” Everyone’s eyes are wide, not sure what to do with the news.

“No. No. It can’t be. We found Seojun. There’s proof.” Your words come out broken and clipped, as you shake your head frantically. You’re shaking, and Haechan, for once, is at a loss on what to do.

Renjun’s the first to regain control of the situation, telling Chenle and Jisung to get their things and pushing Doyoung in the direction of the office. Haechan looks at him expectantly, knowing that he should likely be getting ready to leave as well, but unwilling to leave your side.

Renjun immediately sees the torn expression on Haechan’s face, and he understands. You’re his friend too, after all.

“Bring Y/N home, Haechan. She’s probably gone through a shock. We only need you guys there tomorrow anyways, after we’ve done the autopsy.” Haechan looks at Renjun then, nodding before gently helping you up. It’s at times like these when he’s grateful for the older boy, who always seems to know what’s on his mind.

You’re quiet, eyes glassy even as you get into Haechan’s car and he drives in the direction of your apartment. His gaze darts to you every so often, and Haechan thinks he’d give anything to know what’s on your mind right now.

However, there’s nothing much he can do other than get you to down a cup of hot tea and aspirin, so that you’re not hungover tomorrow. You’re quick to sink into a fitful sleep, and Haechan decides to leave you to rest, reluctantly closing the bedroom door behind him. He takes a quick shower in the guest bathroom, and watches a show mindlessly on the television. He’s not enjoying it, but it helps his mind to blank, and that’s sufficient for now.

It’s so cold.

That’s the only thought in your head as you shiver violently. The cold is piercing to the bone, almost painful, and it’s so dark that you can’t see your own hands in front of you. You feel strangely weightless, as if there’s something holding you up. It’s almost comfortable, except for the fact that you’re beginning to feel numb from the chill.

Until you inhale, and instead of air entering your lungs, it’s water.

You’re drowning.

Your limbs move frantically, but you’re no longer weightless. You’re heavy. So very heavy, that even as you can see the surface above you, it seems so very far away.

Precious oxygen bubbles out of your mouth, and you can feel your lungs burning, struggling to keep you moving. Your eyes are burning from the water, and your limbs getting more sluggish.

Fear fills you, frigid and unrelenting, as you twist your head frantically.

You let out your first scream when you start sinking even further, the dim light of the moon draining away bit by bit, along with your strength.

No one can hear you, not even yourself.

You’re still screaming when you wake up.

“Jesus, Y/N. What happened?” Haechan’s voice is frantic, and he’s leaning over you. It takes a while for his features to become clear in the dimness of the room, and you blink slowly, taking in your surroundings. In another situation, you’d likely be flustered from how close his face is to yours. However, you’re still trembling uncontrollably, cold sweat beading on your forehead and neck.

Before you know it, you’re sitting up, Haechan’s arms around your body and your face nestled in his neck. He’s warm, and you find your heartbeat slowing down slightly from its breakneck pace. Haechan’s hands smooth over your back gently, and he offers you his presence wordlessly, waiting for you to speak.

“I had a…nightmare. That I was Park Sunhee, and I was the one drowning,” you mumble lowly, but you know Haechan can hear you.

You expect him to chide you, perhaps. You know you get too involved in the cases, and feel too much for the victims. A double-edged sword, you suppose. It’s not the best thing for someone who has such an occupation, but you can’t help it. Even as you try to tear your thoughts away from them, you can’t.

Mijoo. Sunhee. And the newest victim. You don’t even know her name yet, but she’ll probably haunt your nights as much as the two of them do.

“How long has this been going on?” Haechan’s tone is gentle, however, as he helps you upright to face him, eyes roaming over your face. His hand comes up to brush your cheek gently, to wipe a stray tear that you didn’t even know escaped.

“I’m not sure. A week after we found Mijoo, maybe?” Your voice is hoarse, and hearing the unfiltered fear in it fills Haechan with pain. That’s almost two whole months.

He realises that there was more to your newfound exhaustion in the office, the dark circles that appeared suddenly. Haechan had assumed it was just the normal toll of taking on such a large case, along with your tendency to stay up late. He hadn't questioned it, but now he desperately wishes he had sooner.

Maybe if he did, he could have done something. And you wouldn’t be here, tortured by repeated nightmares that had you waking up screaming.

He wonders how many nights you had to do this alone, waking up to stare into the darkness of your room.

“You’re safe here, Y/N.”

“I know.. It’s just-it’s okay. I’ll be fine. Thank you for being here.” your voice trails off, and Haechan understands, even without you making it clear.

“Get some rest, alright? We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” he reminds, and a shaky smile makes its way onto your face, despite the fear that hasn’t entirely cleared from your heart.

Haechan stands up, but not before he makes sure you’re lying back down, pillow adjusted comfortably.

“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, okay?” Haechan makes his way to the door, and despite his reminder, you’re seized by a slight panic.

“Wait. Donghyuck,” you call out, and he turns back, eyes expectant. Almost as if he’s waiting for you to ask him something.

“Can you stay? Just for tonight. Please.” Your voice is honest, vulnerable, as you look at Haechan, his face half-lit by the light from your living room.

It feels like too many moments pass, your heart dangling on a precipice, before he nods, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. There’s a faint smile on his face as you move over and he climbs in next to you.

“Is this okay?” He asks, when the both of you are finally facing each other, his face barely inches from yours. His arm is loosely wrapped around your waist, and your head is curled into his chest. “Yeah,” you reply and it comes out muffled in the quiet of the room.

The regular sound of his heartbeat in your ear is oddly calming, and you finally feel your breathing ease up. Haechan’s warmth is the last thing you think of before you drift off, and it’s the first dreamless sleep you have in weeks.

The camera footage is played. Again, and again. Yet, there’s nothing besides the buzzing static and a screen that fades to an endless black. It doesn’t make any sense. Gangnam is one of the safest districts in the entire city, and there were police milling around at every corner.

In spite of that, thirty-five-year-old Song Chaeyeon was dead in an alley, head bashed into the wall. She was thirty-four the last time you met her in the club, a hardened woman who didn’t seem to want anything to do with the investigation.

And now, she was never going to turn any older.

“There has to be something we’re missing. Maybe Seojun has an accomplice-”

“Or it might just not be him.” Haechan cuts you off, and your footsteps skid to a halt from where you’re pacing.

It’s the truth that you don’t want to admit, but he’s always been straight to the point.

You scatter the photographs over the kitchen island of his apartment, arranging them in order. As if some sort of connection will fall from the sky if you stare at them hard enough. It’s been less than three days since Chaeyeon’s body was discovered, and less than forty-eight hours since you collapsed on the floor of the station.

“Y/N. You haven’t had any food all day. At least eat something before we continue.” There’s a pot of ramen balanced carefully in Haechan’s hands, but you ignore the smell that makes your mouth water. The moment your mind drifts back to the image of Chaeyeon and her neck at an unnatural angle, your appetite dissipates into thin air.

“I’m fine.” You shake your head resolutely, turning back to the photographs. Ironically enough, Criminal Minds is playing on the television in the background, as if mocking you. You try not to tug at your hair too hard, even as you fiddle with it out of frustration.

“You have to eat, you know that-”

“I have to solve this case, Donghyuck! If you don’t want to help, fine. Just don’t be in my way,” you burst out, and he falls dead silent, staring at you with an unreadable expression in his eyes. You inhale sharply, rubbing at your eyes.

“You’re not responsible for their deaths, Y/N,” he says softly, a knowing gaze in his honey-brown eyes.

You hate Haechan a little in that moment. You hate the way he looks at you, understanding the fear and confusion swirling in your heart. Most of all, you hate that he’s right, that you’re not responsible for any of this. You wish you were, that you knew a way to stop it. But you’re helpless in the face of an invisible perpetrator.

The room suddenly feels a little too stuffy, your collared blouse tightening around your throat. You’re consumed with the need to clear your head, and your fingers scrabble for your bag. You turn impatient when you’re unable to find the familiar packet, tipping the entire pouch over.

Haechan watches your motions, half-confused and pensive, until he frowns, grabbing onto your wrist tightly.

“Y/N. I thought we talked about this.” His grip is stronger than yours, and forces the pills in your grasp to be held up high, even clear under the ceiling light. The accusing tone in his voice forces your gaze to tear away from him guiltily, and you shrink back.

“You know I only take them when it gets bad,” you explain, but Haechan remains unmovable, quickly plucking the packet from your grip and throwing them in the bin. “They’re painkillers, not magic. You can’t rely on them for everything.”

“Haechan, my stomach really fucking hurts-”

“Then eat. You need proper meals to get better, not some-” he lets out an agitated exhale, before continuing, “-chemicals that will only make you feel worse.”

It’s not that Haechan’s a disbeliever of modern medicine, but he knows you know that you’re not sick, not the kind that requires this sort of medicine. But the sharply bitter taste is oddly comforting, especially when you feel your abdomen cramp from a combination of nerves and stress.

You wouldn’t call yourself reliant on it - addiction is a dangerous line to tread, and you have no intention of ever crossing it, but it seems to appear more often whenever your work gets particularly difficult.

And it seems these past few months have been particularly bad, if the sleeping pill bottle on your nightdesk and the multiple chamomile tea packets are anything to go by.

Still, the warm concern in his eyes is enough for your shoulders to sink, relenting to his better intentions. You know that this is something Haechan won’t back down on, and it makes you feel a little better, the knowledge that even if you don’t have your best interests in mind, there’s someone who does.

You swallow thickly, finally meeting his eyes. “I know. I’m- I’m sorry I lashed out at you. That was unnecessary. And I’ll try to reduce the Panadol to zero,” you promise, hands falling to rest on the countertop. There’s guilt and fear swirling in your eyes, and Haechan’s heart breaks a little at the sight of it.

He cross the kitchen island and wordlessly wraps you in a hug towards him while you lean your head into his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his musk soap. The both of you know each other well enough that there isn’t much of a need to exchange words.

You’re grateful for his presence, more than he’ll ever know. You’re not sure if you’ll ever find the words to thank him, sufficient sentences to string together to express your gratitude.

But for now, the both of you remain standing under his kitchen light, and you can’t help but think that it feels nice to have someone’s warmth against yours.

However, it seems that having Haechan by your side still isn’t quite enough, especially when you wake up in a cold sweat in the darkness of the room.

Your hand scrabbles across the bedsheet, frantic, before it finally lands on his warm palm, causing your breathing to slow a little.

You’ve made a habit of sleeping next to Haechan whenever one of you stays over, which is most days. It seems that it’s becoming harder and harder to pass the night alone, even if you’ve checked the lock twice and closed all the windows. You’re not sure if he minds, and you’re too afraid to ask.

“Y/N. Hey. Look at me,” Haechan’s voice cuts through the silence of the room like a knife, and you’re not sure when he helped you up to a sitting position. You’re still shaking slightly, his eyes drowsy but concerned as he looks at you.

It’s awful, the way this irrational fear digs its claws into you and refuses to let go. You’ve handled cases worse than this. And it makes you feel even more guilty that Haechan is the one left to handle the aftermath, to hold you together. You’re supposed to be his partner, not dead weight.

You close your eyes, as if to prevent you from confronting something you don’t want to. “It’s nothing, Hyuck. I’m sorry for waking you.” Your soft apology carries a note of burdened guilt in it, and it makes Haechan’s heart twist uncomfortably in his chest.

He wishes he can rub away the tears budding at the corners of your eyes, but he decides to settle for intertwining your fingers with his.

“Don’t apologise for this. Tell me if there’s anything I can do to make it better. Anything,” he promises, and the way he whispers it makes it feel like a confession.

There’s no one else in this room except the both of you, and what happens will stay within these walls.

Perhaps that’s what pushes you to lean forward and slot your lips over his in a moment of poor thinking.

For a fleeting moment, Haechan returns it with equal fervour before he seems to regain his senses, freezing in his cross-legged position on the bed before he pushes against your shoulders gently but insistently. You try not to let the hurt show on your face at his open rejection.

“Y/N- what-”

He’s definitely awake now, bewildered at your actions. At least he isn’t looking at you in disgust, which means the situation is less dire than it could have been. You swallow heavily, before refocusing on him.

“You said- I could tell you if there was anything you could do to make it better,” you stutter out, and Haechan nods slowly, as if unsure of what he’s agreeing to. His eyes dart down to your lips temporarily, and you wonder if it’s temptation that fills his gaze.

It definitely isn’t love, or maybe it is. You’re too scared to ask.

“Then let me have this. Please. I need a distraction, or something like it,” you plead.

You can’t bring yourself to care if he breaks your heart, if you have to swallow your feelings for him and let them wilt away. You’ll happily take whatever pieces of himself he’s willing to give, because how could you not?

You know this isn’t a normal request, that it’ll probably change the trajectory of your friendship with him permanently.

But Haechan and you are far from normal at this point. From the mix of fear and desire evident in his eyes, you guess that the man in front of you is thinking the same as well.

The waiting is almost painful, as you look at him with bated breath. Yet, it’s likely only a few moments before Haechan nods, clearing up the heavy feeling in your chest instantaneously and filling you with a longing so desperate that steals the air out of your lungs.

This time, when you lean in, he doesn’t pull away.

It takes one week of fruitless investigations before Doyoung finally snaps and decides to bring everyone out to unwind, promising that he’ll pay for a few rounds. Haechan can feel stress creeping at the back of his neck by the time the clock hits six, and he’s quite sure it’s not just because of the case.

He can’t stop thinking about kissing you. Well, kissed. He kissed you, and then the both of you never spoke about it after. He knows very well that it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, fueled by a cocktail of exhaustion and fear that seemed like desire when sufficiently intoxicated. Pretending it never happened, however, still leaves a bitter taste in Haechan’s mouth, even if he knows that there are larger things at hand.

It might not have meant anything to you. But for Haechan, who has been harbouring feelings for you for close to three years, it means everything.

He had heard of you from his lecture deskmate, the criminal justice major who had aided in a major financial investigation at nineteen - to say you were a bit of a prodigy was an understatement.

When his Criminology professor had assigned the both of you together for a lecture, he had been brimming with excitement to finally see you in person.

But that admiration had only remained as friendship - until five hundred and twelve days ago, when the both of you had been sitting on the floor of your apartment, a long-opened bottle of wine between the both of you.

You had tried to kiss him then too. But Haechan had been sober, and he didn’t want you to do anything you might regret, even if there was disappointment in your eyes when he gently pushed you back by your shoulders.

He tried not to make it too obvious the next morning, when you had shuffled into the kitchen and made no mention of it.

And now, five hundred and twelve days later - he was still nowhere near getting rid of his feelings.

It had only gotten worse once you had pulled him close in the darkness of your bedroom, and Haechan supposes part of it is karma kicking him in the ass. No good person would take advantage of their friend’s vulnerable emotional state to get what they want, especially not when said friend was his best friend of half a decade.

But Haechan’s not a beacon of virtue, as much as he would like to be, and he can’t help but cave when it comes to you. If a distraction was what you needed, he would gladly provide it as many times as you needed, even if it meant his heart fractured a little each time you joked around with him nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just have his lips against yours a few nights ago.

“Here, take this.” Renjun appears at the right time, and passes Haechan a cocktail that’s an unnatural-looking shade of blue. “What’s this?” He can’t help but peer at it suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. It’s sour, the sharp taste of vodka immediately searing its way down his throat before quickly being soothed by an artificial lemon syrup .

“Blue lagoon. It’s Y/N’s favourite, so I thought I’d give it a try. Speaking of which, where is she?”

Haechan realises a bit too late that everyone is looking at him for an answer, and he shrugs helplessly. “How would I know?”

“Because you’re always attached to the hip with her. The last time she called in sick, we got an email from you before her doctor,” Chenle blurts out, causing Jaemin to nod in assent.

Haechan rubs a hand over his face tiredly. Truth be told, he is curious about why you haven’t contacted him at all today. “Just- don’t ask me about Y/N right now.” His curt response immediately captures the attention of the rest, Renjun’s eyes alight with curiosity.

“Did something happen?”

It takes one look at Haechan’s face for everyone to realise that something did happen. “Look, it wasn’t anything much. She had a bad dream, and then we kissed,” he confesses, and Chenle’s eyes widen slightly.

“Slow down. How do those two link?”

“She needed comforting. I was there,” Haechan explains, trying his darnedest to not lose his composure. Rehashing the events only makes him feel like he’s going through it again. “I always knew the both of you had something weird going on,” Jaemin mutters, emptying his cup. Renjun elbows him lightly, before focusing on Haechan. “So what are you going to do about it?”

He falls silent at that question, fingers drumming against the smooth marble of the bar counter. He doesn’t know, and that’s the worst part. Haechan doesn’t know if he should say fuck it and confess his feelings, potentially risking your rejection and making whatever the both of you have now awkward, or if he should remain silent.

“You should probably speak to her,” Renjun says, and that’s probably the only good piece of advice Haechan has received all day.

The only question is, where the hell are you?

Doyoung comes into the room then, but there’s no alcohol in his hand. Instead, his eyebrows are set deeply in worry, knuckles clenched white from how hard he’s holding the phone. Haechan has never seen his supervisor so unsettled before, and it makes fear swirl in his chest. He calls out Doyoung’s name, and the man’s head snaps sharply to the left, as if jerked out of a daydream.

The other guys have picked up on it by now, and Doyoung scans his eyes over the room before exhaling shakily. “It’s Y/N,” he forces out. “She hasn’t been home since yesterday, and her neighbour just filed a missing person report.” He shuts his eyes and lets out a groan of worry, and it’s evident that Doyoung’s thinking of the worst-case scenario.

It takes many long moments before Doyoung’s words land, but when they finally do, Haechan thinks he might puke. The alcohol now feels like a terrible idea as it threatens to escape, pushing uncomfortably at his stomach. Nausea is nothing compared to the dread that floods his veins, however, at the thought of you meeting harm, of being in a situation that you can’t get out of.

You’re one of the people he loves the most in the world, and Haechan’s not sure if you know that enough.

He knows that the room explodes into commotion around him, and that Renjun is letting out curse after curse, but it falls to deaf ears. Haechan grabs his jacket and rushes out before anyone can realise, but he’s quick to sink to his feet at the curb, anger and fear bleeding into his sunken shoulders.

There’s nowhere for him to go, because you’re gone.

You figure out that something is terribly, terribly wrong when the room you wake up in is unfamiliar. There’s a sharp pain that burns up your wrists when you attempt to move them, the rope chafing against sore skin. It’s nothing compared to the panic that overtakes you after assessing your surroundings, however.

The air around you is heavy with the stench of garbage, and you wrinkle your nose slightly.

There’s only a small rectangular window that lets light in, the glass cracked and dirty. Below your feet is a rough cement floor, and one door lies to your right.

It’s the only way in and out, and you don’t see any visible way to unlock it.

There’s a heavy thud from the outside right as you turn your head away, before the door swings open slowly.

The first face you see is unfamiliar. The second, however, fills you with an overwhelming nausea.

In front of you stands Woo Eunhyuk, looking entirely out of place in the dingy room with his carefully polished shoes and ivory-white blouse. Pristine, and nowhere near belonging in a place like this. But now you know what lies beneath that clean exterior, and it terrifies and disgusts you in equal measure.

“I should’ve figured it was you,” you say, voice dripping with venom as you glare at the culprit responsible for all of the deaths and your kidnapping. Eunhyuk, however, only smiles smugly as he peers down at you. “To be fair to you, Officer, I am quite talented at covering my tracks.”

He’s proud. Arrogant as he boasts about it, as if being a cold-hearted killer is something to be rewarded for. It fills you with disgust, but you try not to make it too plain on your face. You need to be careful, and buy time, at least until you have a chance of surviving.

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

You suppose it’s not the wisest question to ask when you’re trying to distract Eunhyuk from that exact conclusion, but you feel a need to know why your body hasn’t ended up in an alley or face-down in the river yet.

“I wasn’t planning to until you started meddling too much. Digging into information you weren’t supposed to find,” he sneers. Eunhyuk’s confirming your suspicions of yesterday, the trail that you had just begun to follow. Considering he was the only other plausible suspect, you had done a deep dive into his records and found years of correspondence with Chaeyeon, some of which bordering into threats.

It took one visit down to the club to make your fears real, when Xiaoting finally divulged the truth.

“Xiaoting, I need you to tell me if Eunhyuk had any sort of conflict with Chaeyeon,” you plead insistently. There’s a stricken look on the red-haired girl’s face, and she’s evidently distraught. You refuse to let up, however, and it feels like a battle of wills takes place in her mind before she makes a decision.

“You can’t tell anyone this. Not until Woo Eunhyuk is behind bars. If not, none of us will be safe,” she whispers. You nod, a silent promise, even as fear climbs up your spine.

“He’s an important investor here. But lately, the rent’s been rising, and Chaeyeon can’t pay back his share. Especially after Mijoo’s death, fewer and fewer customers are coming. He’s been having quarrels with her regularly, and we’re not meant to overhear them, but Chaeyeon was worried that something might happen, so she got me to keep recordings of the conversations. And now look at her.”

“Is there any way you can send me the recordings?”

“Give me a few days. The police have been sorting through Chaeyeon’s stuff after she died, and I’m not sure where the thumb drives are,” Xiaoting promises, and you can tell the girl’s lip is raw from her biting it out of worry.

“If Eunhyuk really is the culprit behind all of this-” you hesitate, but there’s a look of steely determination behind her eyes.

“Promise me you’ll make him pay. Men like him, they think they can do what they want, because they have the money. But I’ve lost Mijoo and Chaeyeon. I don’t want to see another one of my friends left dead.” Her voice has a tinge of cruelty to it, but you understand all too well the pain that it hides.

You’re afraid that you might not be able to fulfil that promise after all, consider how you’re currently at Eunhyuk’s mercy as well.

“But don’t worry. I won’t kill you yet. I quite enjoy watching the people down at the station scrabble to try and find you. Especially your partner. He seems particularly distraught. What was his name again? Haechan?”

There’s a jolt of pain in your heart at the name, a worse feeling than that of your injuries.

Eunhyuk smirks at the obvious change in expression on your face.

“More than just partners, it seems. It’s a pity, you know. I thought you were a pretty one. I’ll decide what to do with you eventually.” You bite back a shudder when he caresses your face gently, watching as he leaves the room. A soft exhale escapes you when the door locks shut resolutely, even if that’s the escape route closed off to you.

But you refuse to give up just yet. Your brain is running a mile a minute as you think of possible ways that you can make it out, but every second that passes only makes you more hopeless. Both your feet and hands are bound to the chair that you’re on, tight enough to cut off circulation if you move too much.

You wonder what’s running through Haechan’s mind now, if the panic is getting to his head. You’re not sure if you’ll get to see him again, and you can’t bear the thought of letting him blame himself for your death.

As much as the man keeps everything maintained under a smooth veneer of confidence, you know your partner much too well, that he’s someone who picks up responsibility even if it isn’t his.

It’s funny how the thought of him brings a small semblance of comfort to you, even in a situation such as this.

And then something comes to you. A possible path out, a semblance of a fighting chance offered by no one but the man himself.

You wiggle your wrist slightly, even though it’s numb, and almost let out a sob of relief when you feel the cool metal against your skin.

Haechan had given you a bracelet for your birthday last year, engraved with your initials, along with many other things. You had made a habit of wearing it daily, but ornamentation wasn’t its only function.

“Haechan, I can take care of myself,” you assure, but the boy shuts you up with a determined look as he places the bracelet on your wrist.

“Better safe than sorry considering the line of work we’re in. If you’re ever in danger, just press this-” He presses down on the button to drive his point- “and I’ll immediately know where to find you. Okay?”

“Fine. But you have to wear one too. You’re not the only one who might need saving,” you retort, and he barks out a laugh, reaching into his hoodie. The smooth metal chain is pinched between his fingers.

“Already got mine. We’re matching now, I suppose.” His words bring a blush to your cheeks.

You’ve never been more grateful for his foresight in your life as you fiddle around, gritting your teeth in pain when the rope slides a little too harshly. There’s sweat dripping down the side of your forehead, but you ignore it. However, your fingers eventually find the bracelet on your other hand, and you exert just enough pressure to feel the mechanism unlock and let out a soft beep.

There’s a harsh exhale that escapes you once you’re done, and you sink back into the chair. Hope is a dangerous thing, you realise, but it’s the only emotion you can cling on to besides despair.

For now, you’ll wait, and place your trust in Haechan.

You hear the footsteps before they reach you.

There’s shouting, audible even through the walls. For a moment, your heart soars with hope.

And then the man who had accompanied Eunhyuk bursts in, and it comes crashing down. He cuts off the ropes binding you, but not before there’s a pair of handcuffs locked securely around your wrist. “Get the fuck up before I put a knife in you,” he rasps harshly, jerking you up by your arm and dragging you behind him. “You wouldn’t dare without your boss,” you retort, and he narrows his eyes at you.

The resulting blow to your stomach knocks the breath out of your windpipe, even as you’ve tensed yourself in preparation for it. “Watch yourself. He doesn’t mind damaged goods. You’re dead sooner or later anyways,” he seethes.

“Glad…to see that you’ve actually got strength behind those arms of yours,” you wheeze out painfully.

He closes his hand in a fist again, and you prepare yourself for the inevitable. However, the footsteps are louder this time, and he thinks better of it, dragging you along with him.

You observe your surroundings as you pass the maze-like hallways into a larger room, one that looks like a garage. The walls are cracked and peeling, and you’re guessing this is an abandoned building of sorts.

Suddenly, the grip on your arms loosens slightly, and you notice Eunhyuk standing in front of you. He walks over, grabbing your chin roughly and leaning down until the both of you are eye level.

“How the fuck did your little friends find you?” He’s seething as he glares at you, but you smile, baring your teeth through the pain and the bruise that’s likely forming on your abdomen. “You should have just killed me when you had the chance.”

He smirks slightly at that. “Be careful what you wish for.”

“Woo Eunhyuk, hands up, or I’ll put this bullet through your skull. Don’t test me.”

The voice that you hear behind you makes you want to sink down in relief. It’s painfully familiar, the honeyed cadence of it something entirely unique to one person.

Haechan’s here.

He’s not the only one, as you turn to see Renjun next to him and a few other faces you don’t recognize. They’re fully attired, pistols in hand. His eyes can’t help but drift to you for a millisecond, hardening imperceptibly when he sees the dried blood on your forehead. Eunhyuk’s men hadn’t exactly been gentle when they ambushed you on the way home, and you only realised the ugly scratch on the side of your face much too late.

“Not so fast, Officer. You might want to be careful.” You’re dragged backwards before you know it, and the click of a loaded pistol against your temple makes your heart stop cold with fear.

Of course he has a gun. Laws don’t matter, not to a man like Eunhyuk, who believes that enough money will cover up any of his sordid deeds.

The impending possibility of death is very real now, and you try to put on a brave face, even as your feet tremble slightly. If not for yourself, at least for Renjun and Haechan.

“Killing me won’t do anything. You’re not getting away with this,” you bite out. You try not to think about the cold metal resting against your skin, and the trigger that is barely inches away from you.

“Let me go free, and I’ll give you back your precious colleague here. Otherwise, I’m blowing her brains out,” he threatens. From the way the rest don’t respond, you’re guessing Haechan’s the highest-ranking officer present, which means everyone’s waiting for his call.

It seems Eunhyuk grows impatient, however, and this time, you’re not prepared, letting out a guttural groan when he slams the gun into your right knee. Something definitely breaks then, and the crack that resounds in the space is almost worse than the pain itself.

Haechan begins to lower his gun.

“No!” you shout out, teeth gritted, and you’re met with a harsh slap to your head, one that leaves your ears ringing and the fresh coppery smell of blood filling your nose. “Shut up, bitch.”

Haechan looks at you, a conflicted expression in his eyes. He’s scared. The fear makes him look so much younger, reminiscent of the boy you met in university. His grip on the gun remains firm, however, and despite the pain flooding through your nerve endings, you let a glimmer of pride fill you at the person that Haechan’s become.

You shake your head insistently at his doubt, even as tears brim at the corner of your eyes. You’re terrified too, but you can’t let Eunhyuk go.

Not for Mijoo, Sunhee, or Chaeyeon.

If it means you’re going to die, then so be it.

There’s nothing that Renjun or Haechan can do, but there just might be an option for you. A risky one, but worth a try.

The last time you took self-defence lessons was before your graduation from the academy, and they were practised in a room with an instructor who did not have the intention to murder you, just to teach.

But the bravery that fills you upon accepting the hypothetical conclusion of death is liberating, and you find your brain rushing through possibilities now that you have nothing to lose.

I’m sorry, Donghyuck.

You close your eyes and suck in a sharp breath, as if it will prepare you for the worst, before you swing your head back and right into Eunhyuk’s nose. There’s a loud groan of pain from him, but you don’t give yourself time to wait before you turn and kick as high as you can.

There’s a loud gunshot, and you freeze for a moment. Perhaps this is it, and you’ve failed. The last few moments, before the bullet lands true and the pain comes.

And then the world restarts.

You’re jolted back when you hear the gun clatter loudly on the floor. By some pure stroke of luck, the bullet has missed you.

Eunhyuk stumbles back in pain, a hand over his bicep, and you quickly dawn upon the realization that it’s not his gun that has fired.

It was Haechan’s.

There’s blood rushing out, scarlet over his fingers, and it plays like a horrible montage, one that will stick in your worst nightmares.

One blink, and Eunhyuk sinks to the floor. A second blink, before there’s officers rushing over to pin him down to the floor

Another slow open-and-close of your eyes, and Haechan is in front of you. Everything is fading into black spots, and you’re quite sure the world is spinning around you. He remains in focus, however, and you try your best to muster a smile, even as the pain reaches a crescendo.

“Y/N? Are you okay? Everything’s fine now. Where else are you hurt?” He’s frantic now, facade slowly breaking and panic leaking into his voice as he inspects you for injuries.

You don’t get to thank Haechan for finding you before you collapse.

“Do you think we can convince him to go back?” Renjun asks, looking at the raven-haired man next to him. “Not likely. At most, he’ll hopefully get some sleep.”

The younger boy runs his hand through his hair tiredly, before turning down the hallway. “The doctor said everything’s alright. I’m worried too, but-”

“He loves her, Renjun. You’d do it for someone else too,” Doyoung chides, and Renjun knows he’s right.

Haechan hasn’t left your bedside for the past seventy-two hours, insisting on staying no matter what the others say. It’s barely enough for him that you thankfully don’t have a concussion, just skin injuries that will heal eventually. The exhaustion and adrenaline have just triggered a natural response by your body, and you’ll wake up when you’re ready.

Seeing you unresponsive on the hospital bed, however, is a sight similar to Haechan’s worst nightmares, almost identical the fears that keep him up at night. If he stays, he can make sure that the heart monitor maintains its stable beeping, and that you’re safe and sound in front of him.

His eyes are sinking closed, but Haechan resolutely keeps them open. The rest have returned back, the flowers from some of your acquaintances resting on the desk and adding some cheer to the dullness of the room. You would hate the hospital environment, Haechan thinks. It’s nothing like your house, cozy and full of little trinkets that you’ve collected over the years.

There’s one small comfort, at least, and it’s the vindication that Haechan gets at seeing Woo Eunhyuk dragged into the back of a police car. Renjun had to pull him back from beating the man up during the aftermath, the firm grip reminding Haechan that assault charges were still very much possible even when committed against a criminal.

But the murderous rage that fills Haechan at the thought of what Eunhyuk’s done to you feels all-consuming, and the only reason he hasn’t acted on it is that he knows you wouldn’t want him to. You’ve always been the calmer one to his irrational nature, tempering him before he gets too far.

Haechan needs you beside him to function, and it’s only been made all that much clearer by your absence.

He smooths his thumb over your palm, wondering if you'll feel it from whichever dreamscape you’re residing in.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Y/N, but it’s over. We did it. Or you did it, really. We got the recordings from Xiaoting, and managed to dig up some other stuff. You’ll definitely want to see it in person. Which is why you’ve got to wake up. I need my partner here, you know?”

He lets out a soft laugh at his own statement, but it remains unanswered in the silence of the room.

Until your hand jerks slightly, and Haechan doesn’t dare to breathe as his gaze remains fixed on you.

He waits with bated breath, watching as your eyelids flit gently.

It’s too bright.

That’s the first thing you think of when you open your eyes to another unfamiliar room. For a moment, you’re seized painfully with fear again, thinking that you’re back where you started, in that dark, dirty room.

Until the sharp tang of antiseptic floods your nose, and you feel a warm palm over yours. Instead of the chair prodding into your back, there’s a soft bed. And instead of Eunhyuk’s face, there’s Haechan hovering gently over you, eyes alight with concern and relief.

“You’re awake,” he sighs out, and you reflexively try to sit up. There's a dull ache all over your body, but it's nothing you can't handle.

“How long have I been out?” You ask, throat dry from lack of use.

“Close to three days,” Haechan replies instantly, an unreadable look on his face as he adjusts the pillow behind your back carefully. You take a careful sip of the water handed to you, observing him from behind the rim of the cup.

There are dark circles evident under the corners of his eyes, and light stubble on his chin. Despite the obvious lack of rest, he still looks as beautiful as ever, the sight of him sending a jolt of affection to your heart.

A heavy silence rests in the room, symbolic of so many things left unsaid between the both of you. It beseeches you to say something, anything to dispel the tension looming over you and Haechan.

“Hyuck, I-”

“Y/N-”

You giggle slightly at the surprised look on Haechan’s face. “You first, then.”

He swallows nervously, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. But when Haechan lifts his head back up to look at you, there’s a certain quiet determination that rests in his gaze. You hold back a shiver at its insistence, as if he can see right through you like glass.

“When you were gone-” he starts, “I did a lot of thinking.”

“That’s new,” you say, and he rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips despite the sombre atmosphere. “I’m serious, Y/N. Those were the worst two days of my life, and I never want that to happen to you. I couldn’t stop thinking that if I’d been more careful-” Haechan sucks in a breath as if he’s in physical pain, and you instinctively reach out to hold him close to you, to soothe his hurt the only way you know how.

You hold his face between your hands, staring directly into his worried eyes and hoping that your words will get through. “Listen to me, Donghyuck. None of this was your fault.”

The furrow in his brows doesn’t leave, but the dark clouds in his expression clear just barely.

“The bracelet you gave me saved me. I’m never going to be able to thank you enough for that,” you continue, and he leans his cheek into your palm, as if thinking of a response. When he wraps his fingers around your wrist, holding your hand to the curve of his face, the fondness of the motion makes you smile.

“That wasn’t all I wanted to say. When you weren’t around, it was- difficult. Not just because I was worried, but because having you by my side makes everything easier. Better,” he admits, circling his thumb in gentle, soothing circles.

You’re not sure where he’s going with this, but you hold your breath, waiting. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, in sync with the wall clock that ticks away second by torturous second. The heady rush of anticipation fills you, and you feel as if you’re teetering on an invisible precipice, about to fall into oblivion.

“I love you. I wanted you to know that. It’s just- I realised I could lose you any time, and that’s worse than being rejected,” he says slowly, watching for your reaction.

There’s no surprise, no great revelation at his words. Instead, they settle into you like stones in a lake, barely making a splash. You’ve always known Haechan’s loved you, even if the idea of going further beyond friendship filled you with anxiety.

You’ve just been too scared to admit the truth.

To admit that you want him to hold you outside of when you have nightmares, that returning to either of your homes together makes warmth flood your chest. You’re someone who’s terrified of your dreams, but having him to wake up to makes the darkness a little easier to endure.

“I lied. When I said I just wanted a distraction.” Your hands are shaking, but you force yourself to continue. “I wanted you. I’m too much of a coward to admit it, but I do,” you breathe out shakily, feeling as the grip he has around your wrist tightens.

The doubt in Haechan’s features clears up at your words, replaced with genuine happiness. It’s a pretty expression on him, one of your favourites, and something that you’ll do anything to keep.

This time, he’s the one to pull you in, hand guiding the upward tilt of your chin. Your lips are chapped and so are his, but you don’t find yourself minding, not when Haechan is so warm and real and solid in front of you. And he’s yours.

When you finally break away from him for air, there’s a hunger in his eyes, but also love. So much of it that it leaves you breathless, weak to his ministrations. He smirks slightly at the dazed expression on your face.

“You know, for two of the best criminal investigators in Korea, we’re quite bad at figuring out each other’s feelings,” he points out.

“Shut up, Donghyuck.”

“As much as that was an interesting case, I hope we never have something like it again.”

“Agreed.” Jaemin lifts up his glass at Doyoung’s statement, downing all the champagne in one go. Renjun looks at him with distaste. “You’re going to get drunk,” he chides.

“I think we all deserve to celebrate,” Jaemin retorts. “To Woo Eunhyuk. May the fucker rot in jail,” the blonde-haired boy proclaims, and even Renjun takes a sip of alcohol at that.

The five of you had left the courtroom four hours ago, fresh from the sight of Woo Eunhyuk being found guilty and sentenced to life imprisonment with no parole. Not even his deep pockets could find a lawyer good enough to lighten his sentence. You don’t think you’ll forget the look he flashed you as he was dragged out of the courtroom, one that spelt pure hatred. But you’ve done what you’ve needed to do, and served justice.

“To Y/N and Haechan, my favourite couple, who needed a psychotic serial killer’s help to recognise their feelings.” Chenle’s voice rings out clearly in the room, drawing out a dry chuckle from the man next to you.

Your boyfriend and co-investigator rests his hand gently on your shoulder, before scoffing at the comment. “Careful, Zhong, or you’ll be the next one on my hitlist.”

You click your tongue at him. “Play nice.” Haechan looks at you incredulously, as if asking if you genuinely think he’s the one at fault. You only smile comfortingly at him before turning back to your conversation with Jisung.

You try to bite back a laugh when you hear him scoff lowly. Haechan may be smart and one. of the most mature people you know, but this isn’t one of those moments. “Give me a second, Jisung,” you request, and the younger boy nods, waving you off.

You tiptoe to tap your fingers on Haechan’s shoulder, the leather of his jacket smooth against your fingers. “Donghyuck.”

He doesn’t turn around.

“Are you seriously going to sulk because of this?” you ask.

There’s absolute silence.

“You can’t ignore me forever, you know.” Still nothing.

You sigh in exasperation before an idea comes to you. “Turn around, Hyuck. I have a surprise for you.” To your astonishment, the ploy somehow works.

The last thing Haechan is expecting is for you to grab his jacket collar in your fist and yank him down, before planting your lips firmly on his. It makes his mind blank for a moment, and Haechan reciprocates, before remembering that he’s technically supposed to be angry at you.

When he leans away, however, he’s trying his best to fight the blush that creeps across his cheeks.

“Still angry?” you ask, and he shakes his head. You smile victoriously, but it quickly fades away when he winds an arm around your waist and kisses you again, this time with a dizzying amount of passion.

You’re beginning to get lightheaded when the both of you finally separate, and Haechan has a smug smile on his face. He wipes the smudged lipstick away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, and you barely register it.

“There. Now I’m happy.”

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