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sailorsoons · 2 months ago

Text

Baby (k.sy)

PAIRING: Soongyoung x f. reader

SUMMARY: Soonyoung had been in your life for as long as you can remember. You haven’t spoken since your wedding to someone who isn’t him, but when you uncover your husband’s plans to turn against your family, you don’t know who else to call.

WC: 29,988

AU: Mafiaverse, Cyberpunk, Childhood Friends/Exes to Lovers

GENRE: Smut, Heavy Angst

RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

WARINGS: Full warnings available under the cut.

A/N: This fic was posted on my original blog which has been deleted. I am now reposting it. I hope it does half as well as it did when I originally posted this story - thank you to everyone who left amazing feedback the first time. It genuinely made me so happy and I am so sorry that it got sent to the moon where I can no longer read it.

A/N 2: Thank you @daechwitatamic and @eoieopda for beta-reading this fic.

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Warnings: Graphic violence generally associated with mafia behavior, mentions of murder and blood, morally grey characters, themes of codependency (a little bit), a bit of a toxic relationship with Soonyoung and reader at times (they like to make each other jealous), bar fights, women being very petty, recreational drinking and drug use, heavy angst, depictions of death (funerals for parents), fight scene that ends in death in a domestic situation, difficult relationships with parents, reader and her husband have a terrible relationship and hate each other, depictions of blood and stabbing in one scene (it is the most graphic scene in the whole fic but kept short), reader agonizes over decisions she's made and struggles mentally with a lot of it, depiction of a full blown anxiety attack, sexually explicit content including fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, crying during sex, a lot of making out and biting, multiple orgasms... sorry this is so long, I want to over-warn for everything happening here so if I have missed something you think needs to be warned, please tell me!

Kwon Soonyoung is crying the first time you meet him. It’s a loud, warbling cry that you’re not used to, and you flinch at the pitch as you hide behind your mother. Soonyoung and his mother are standing in the grand foyer of your home, his fists twisted in her tweed skirt as he begs her not to leave him.

His mother sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. You’ve seen her around before on the arm of her husband at your family dinner parties and for afternoon tea with your mom. This is the first time you’ve seen Soonyoung, though, and you’re unimpressed as his shrieking only gets louder when she crouches down to look him in the eye fondly, brushing the tears from his face.

You don’t know a lot of other kids, but the noisiness of him startles you. Unsettles you. Sensing your unease, your mother reaches to pull you from behind her, giving you a single look that you know means please behave. You straighten immediately, turning to watch the sniffling boy as he calms down.

Soonyoung is round-cheeked, his dark eyes swollen and face reddened from working himself up. His mother murmurs something to him and he nods, wiping the snot from his face with the back of his hand.

Seungcheol must notice the crying has stopped. He appears from the kitchen, giving Soonyoung an unimpressed once over as he strides toward you and your mother. She clucks her tongue at the cheek of her eleven year old, giving him a hard look.

“Seungcheol, don’t be rude,” she admonishes. “Greet our guests properly.”

Your older brother glances at you and you lift a shoulder. He’s going to lead the family one day, it’s important for him to show manners. You know this even at a young age - have always known what his place is among your family, what your place is.

Cheol is in line to become the Tower of the Choi Syndicate, an empire that you cannot fathom at your age but you know is important. You are its insurance, a second heir if something happens to the first and a bargaining chip for future partnerships. A potential logician, if you’re good enough.

Turning to Soonyoung and his mother, Seungcheol bows politely. “It’s nice to meet you, Soonyoung. Are you here to play video games?”

Soonyoung perks up at that, looking at his mom, eyes going round. She grins and nods her head, pulling her hands from where they rest on his shoulders. “He is,” she agrees. “We thought it might be good for you to become friends.” Her gaze drifts to you. “All three of you.”

That makes you frown. You don’t really like playing video games. Seungcheol never lets you win and forces you to play for hours in exchange for him letting you borrow his AetherLink at night to scroll the internet. You’re not allowed to have one yet, even though you’re only four years younger and all of your other friends have them to enter virtual chat rooms and play online games.

“Do I have to?” you ask your mom, looking up at her.

“Yes,” she says firmly, gently nudging you by the shoulder toward where your brother is not so patiently waiting to escort you to the gaming room. “Go.”

“Why don’t you want to play?” Soonyoung asks, pouting a little.

“I’m not any good.”

“That’s okay. I’ll let you beat me.”

Seungcheol moans. “Ugh, don’t let her win. Come on. I got the new Grid Fighters game on the Reality Rift console!”

“No way!”

Seungcheol grins and shoots off toward the gaming room, Soonyoung hot on his heels. You hesitate for a moment, staring after them with indignation. Soonyoung stops at the doorway, turning to you. His face is still ruddy from crying, but he’s suddenly smiling, cheeks round and smooth.

“Come on,” he whispers. “I’ll let you win, I promise.”

“Holy fuck, can you let me win for once?” Soonyoung groans, rolling over on the mat. He’s dripping in sweat, wiping it away from his brow as he stands with effort.

Grinning, you skip away from him, reaching for your water bottle. Music pounds through the speakers of the training room. Overhead, the blue neon casts an eerie glow over the two of you. Seungcheol ignores you both in favor of using the weight machines in the far corner of the room.

On the far wall, your health and fitness data is displayed, each one of your bodies outlined and flashing as new data comes in. Right now, you’re in the red zone, heart pounding hard from your bout with Soonyoung, who is in the orange zone.

Which confirms your suspicion that he’s not trying as hard as he could be.

“Maybe if you weren’t afraid to actually hit me,” you offer. The water helps cool you down as you eye Soonyoung. Even at fourteen, he’s started to fill out his form more, arms corded as he hones himself into a weapon. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

Seungcheol scoffs from across the room. Maybe he wasn’t totally ignoring the two of you. He drops his cool-older-kid act to turn and grumble, “He’d put you on your ass, Baby. Lucky for you, he always lets you win.”

The nickname makes you bristle. You hate when people point out that you’re the baby of the family, like you’re something less than or incapable of keeping pace. You especially hate it when Seungcheol uses it to put you in your place, reminding you that one day your shithead older brother is going to be leading the family business.

The family business is the reason you spar with them at all. Occasionally Vernon joins, though those days are as unpredictable as his appearances. Usually when he’s over at your house, it’s never a good thing. His arrivals are always bracketed with the sound of his father’s manic yelling and his mother’s frantic begging, followed closely by slammed doors and your father’s calming voice.

Today it’s just the three of you, though. Soonyoung comes over and sits on the mat by your feet, holding a hand up to you. You pass him your water bottle, rolling your eyes at him even though it doesn’t really bother you.

Nothing Soonyoung does really bothers you. Since that first day he showed up at your house sobbing because his mother was leaving him for the day, he’s grown on you. More than grown on you, in fact. You’re pretty sure he hasn’t noticed your lingering gazes and the way he flusters you when he gets too close, and you hope to keep it that way.

“I don’t want to hit you,” Soonyoung offers gently, voice low over the metal clang of Seuncheol’s weights. “And it’s not ‘cause I don’t think you can’t take it,” he adds with a grin, bumping his shoulder against your leg. “I just don’t like the idea of you getting hurt.”

“Everyone treats me like a baby.”

“You are. But it’s not a bad thing. For example, you say jump and everyone says how high. Even my dad.”

That makes you smirk a little. You look at the floor, letting his words wash over you. They do ring true - there’s no one in the Syndicate who would deny you anything, and though you’re utterly terrified of Soonyoung’s dad, he would do anything for you. In a way, it was the Kwon family’s divine purpose to be by the side of the Chois.

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Jump.”

Soonyoung grins and sets the water bottle down, getting up to his feet at your command. “How high, Baby?”

Soonyoung doesn’t shed a tear on the day of his parents’ funeral. He’s a far cry from the little boy who showed up at your house to play video games and become friends.

Instead, he sits in silence, eyes raging - always raging, now. You don’t think the fury stops, his gaze burning the entire ceremony. His grip on your hand is like iron, and after a while, your arm tingles with pins and needles. You say nothing, willing to endure. Eventually, your arm goes numb entirely, and he keeps holding your hand.

Afterward, Soonyoung says nothing. You do the talking for him, accepting the hand shakes and bows on his behalf when he doesn’t reach out to accept them, thanking those who have come to offer him condolences and respect when he doesn’t speak.

His grip on you is steadfast. Iron and fire. Even when your father drops his gaze down with a look of disapproval, Soonyoung doesn’t let go and you don’t ask him to. If there’s any day that you can break decorum and tradition, it’s certainly now in the wake of Soonyoung’s loss.

They don’t need to know you’d let him hold you anyway.

The boy who existed before the murder of his parents is dead. You knew it before the funeral. But when the last guest finally leaves the Choi Estate and Soonyoung doesn’t shed a tear, you realize it isn’t just his parents that you’ve buried.

The sweet, gentle boy who had cried those tears for fear of his mother leaving him has died too. And you don’t think you’ll ever see him again.

“You want me to do what?” Soonyoung asks, pulling you into his room and looking out the cracked door to make sure no one else is around. “Where is your brother?”

“I have no idea.”

“You can’t just- ” Soonyoung fumbles for words as he shuts the door and takes a few steps past you into his room proper. It’s dark, safe for the glow of his AetherLink glowing with a paused video game. “Did he see you follow me up here?”

“Why are you being weird? I’m in here all the time. You live here.”

“I’m being weird? You just asked me to kiss you. Neither your brother nor your dad want you in my room in the middle of the night.”

You frown. “Since when? Look, I’m sixteen and I’ve never been kissed, and Lin just lost her virginity to Jeonghan. What happened to when I say jump you say how high?”

“Oh don’t start with me. Who cares if Lin is giving it up to Jeonghan. She blew Wonwoo like two weeks ago. It’s not a competition.”

You cross your arms over your chest, caving in on yourself a little. Maybe it was a stupid idea to ask Soonyoung after all. But you can’t get over the way all of the other girls were clinging to Lin’s every word as she spilled the details of sleeping with Jeonghan. Everyone else in your friends group had at least made out with boys - you had nothing.

Being the daughter of the leader of the Choi Syndicate has its benefits. Being accessible to do things like kissing boys and going out with your friends to new cool clubs like Echo Space and Hyper Vibe were not one of them. Getting any of the boys your age to even look you in the eye was impossible, the fear of catching the wrath of Seungcheol and your father looming over them like the Sword of Damocles.

Soonyoung is Soonyoung, though. Your father has brought him into the fold like one of his own, keeping his oath to Soonyoung’s parents to always watch over him and protect him. You’re old enough now to understand that the bonds between higher members of the Syndicate are bonds of faith and blood, of family and something more.

If anyone shouldn’t be afraid to kiss you, it’s Soonyoung. He lives down the hall from you, and he’s best friends with your brother. It wouldn’t be that weird. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you lay awake in your bed at night while you stared at the ceiling, fingers trailing your lips.

Now, you’re not so sure. The way Soonyoung recoils makes you realize you hadn’t thought of the single most important thing before marching in here and asking him to be your first kiss: maybe Soonyoung didn’t want to kiss you.

It hadn’t even crossed your mind - one of the many downsides to getting mostly everything you wanted. You’re so infrequently told no that in the light of rejection, you don’t know what to do, recoiling like you’ve been mortally wounded.

Nodding your head, you turn away from Soonyoung, throat tightening as the new wave of emotions threatens to spill over. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Baby,” he sighs. You ignore him, bolting for the door. Soonyoung is fast, though. He snatches your arm and drags you back toward him, though you turn your face away from him to hide the evidence of oncoming tears. “Don’t be like that.”

“I’m not being like anything. It was a stupid favor to ask.”

“Would you look at me?”

“No.”

He sighs heavily. “Why are you being so difficult?”

Trying to wrench your arm from his hold is useless. He’s not hurting you, but the grip on your bicep is firm. “Well if I’m so difficult then let me go.”

“Baby.” The frustration in his voice is evident. You ignore the way your nickname rolls off his tongue, the way he’s the only person you don’t absolutely hate the name from.

“Just let me go!”

“No. Why do you want me to kiss you?”

The question is like nails against chalkboard now, your embarrassment peaking. “Forget I even asked, just let me go!”

“Fuck - are you crying?”

“No.”

“Baby, look at me.”

Too afraid that the wavering in your voice will give you away, you shake your head, refusing to turn and face him. With a growl, he gives a sharp tug on your arm, spinning you toward him. You let out a noise of protest, ready to lash out at him again when you feel his mouth on yours.

Startled, you don’t do anything at first. Soonyoung’s grip is still on your bicep, firm and steadfast. Your eyes blink for a second before they flutter closed, unsure exactly what to do beyond lean into him a little, pressing your lips firmer to his.

It’s somehow exactly what you expected and totally unexpected at the same time. Soonyoung’s mouth is softer than you were ready for, slotted gently against yours. He’s warm and smells like vanilla and sandalwood, a scent you’ve grown familiar with. Your thoughts peter out, enjoying the way he holds you to him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

When Soonyoung pulls away, you look up at him through half-lidded eyes, your breath shaky. He doesn’t pull back very far, looking down at you with a dark gaze. This close, you can see the real Soonyoung. His expression is soft, eyes sparkling in the blue light of his room. He looks so young suddenly, all of the rage and wrath that lurks under the surface of the calm mask he wears gone for just a moment.

“You have pretty eyes,” you whisper. His mouth twitches at the corner, an almost smile. “I’ve always thought you had beautiful eyes.”

He opens and closes his mouth again, trying to find words. You wait him out, heart thudding. He’s still holding you close to him, fingers digging desperately into your arm.

Footsteps thundering up the stairs wake him from his daze, Seungcheol calling your name. Soonyoung drops his hand and steps away from you, a cool mask of calm sliding into place, the vulnerability gone in an instant. “There’s your kiss,” he murmurs. “Is there anything else you need from me or do I need to jump too?”

Synth pulses through you, vibrating your very bones as you lounge on the velvet couch in a private section of the club. The lights above you are hazy, but you can make out the shapes of holographic dancers, their graphics so high definition that you can see the sweat beading down their bare backs.

From the VIP section, you have the perfect view of the DJ platform. Screens flash behind it, holographic wonders of creatures and places and visuals flashing brightly. Writhing bodies twist on the dancefloor around the DJ like a pit of snakes. Among them, you know your father’s Taps slither among the crowd, pushing drugs and psychedelics into the hands of those who can afford it.

A trained eye can spot a Tap well enough. Though they blend in with the nylon and leather of the partiers, they tend to be sharp eyed and lucid, chewing on stim pops or some other substance to keep them awake and alert.

It’s not the drug dealers in the crowd who keep drawing your attention, though. You shouldn’t be able to spot Soonyoung in the mass of bodies so easily, but you do. His hair is bleached, reflecting the flashing lights around him as he presses in close to the girl attached to him, hips swaying.

Your mouth sours. Leaning forward you snatch one of the bottles from the ice bucket and pour a shot into a crystal glass. Angel raises her brows as you slide the glass over to her and pour another for yourself. She’s not much of a drinker, but she takes the glass wordlessly, sensing your need to have a partner in crime.

Knocking it back, you hiss as the liquor burns all the way back. Even the high grade alcohol is like fire, washing away your irritation for a dizzy moment, veins buzzing. Leaning back, your eyes scan the crowd and settle on Soonyoung again. This time, he’s leading his partner through the crowd and toward the stairs. The stairs that lead to you.

Seungcheol and Wonwoo crashing onto the seat next to you breaks your concentration. Seungcheol’s pupils are wide as saucers, eyes trailing upward to dance at the visual of a woman with pink skin sliding out of her top.

Next to him, Wonwoo pulls a small bag with glittering dust from his pocket, shaking it to settle all of the contents at the bottom before unsealing the top. The way the powder glows against the lights tells you its high quality frostbyte, a powerful stimulant named for the biting feeling when inhaled.

Instead of yelling over the music, you gesture toward the bag, catching Wonwoo’s attention. He gives you a surprised look followed by a wolfish grin. Wonwoo loves when you partake in partying harder, a side everyone so rarely sees from you.

Sliding a knife from his pocket, you watch with rapt attention as Wonwoo dips it into the baggie, scooping delicately. You’d rather he cut lines on the table, but you’ll take what you can get, watching as he expertly fishes out a decent sized amount for you to take.

You’re mutely aware that a group of bodies enters your section. Vernon throws himself down next to Angel, jostling you both as you lean over Seungcheol’s half-asleep form toward where Wonwoo extends the knife toward you carefully. You ignore the weight of Soonyoung’s eyes on you as he, Mingyu and a group of girls sit down and reach to fill their glasses with liquor.

Wonwoo’s hands are steady as he holds the tip of his blade out to you, a hand held underneath to catch any powder that slips off the blade. Careful not to lose your balance and stab yourself, you level your face with the knife, inhaling sharply.

Immediately the drug bites the back of your throat, eyes watering as you tilt your head upwards and blink for a second, letting it settle. Sniffing harshly a few times, you clear your nasal passage and blow out a breath, feeling the softest beginning of a tingle as you look at Wonwoo, who is still holding his hands out to you.

“Thanks,” you nod. He grins and pulls back, rubbing the excess powder along his gums as you fall heavily against the back of the booth.

Turning to look at your brother, you elbow him. “Are you alive?”

“Mhmm,” he grunts, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest. Lights dance across his face, all pinks and blues and purples as he breathes in heavily. “I am fucked right now. Can you get me a stim pop from Hoshi? If I do anymore frostbyte I’m gonna get a nosebleed. Again.”

Actually, asking Soonyoung for anything is the last thing you want to do. However, your brother does look like he needs to wake up, the mess of drugs and alcohol in his system working overtime to put him on his ass. Stim pops are a quick fix, a careful mix of sweet candy and methylphenidate to wake up the nervous system. Soongyoung always has them on his person, especially for when he works late night shifts.

Turning in the booth, you’re smacked with a wave of color. For a moment, you drink it in, tilting your head upward as the figures dancing above explode into a world of lavender butterflies. They’re utterly captivating, your eyes watching them twist and dance in the air as they flutter.

A laugh bubbles from your lips, entirely childlike. Grinning, you watch them for a few moments more before they disintegrate into stars, entire solar systems hovering and floating through the space above your head.

Seungcheol elbowing you breaks you from your concentration. Right. Stim pop. From Soonyoung. Glancing at the man in question makes your stomach plummet. Soonyoung’s head is resting against the back of the booth, the girl next to him draped over him with her mouth pressed hot to his throat, her teeth overly white in the blacklight of the club.

A surge of rage shivers through you, your nails scratching across the green velvet, leaving marks in their wake. Leaning forward, you reach out a hand and smack Vernon’s knee to get his attention. He turns his lazy gaze on you, brows raised. When you point at Soonyoung, he nods and yells over his shoulder to get your target’s attention.

Soonyoung’s eyes flutter open and flick to where you’re sitting. He drinks in your expression before muttering something to the woman mouthing at his neck and peels her off, standing up and shuffling over to you. Angel makes room for him, all but sliding into Vernon’s lap as Soonyoung crashes down on the couch next to you.

“Hi, Baby. What’s up?”

“Cheol needs a stim pop,” you answer curtly, leaning away from him. He smells like vanilla and sandalwood laced with alcohol. Soonyoung is so close you can feel his body heat, his breath fanning across your bare shoulder as he moves to look at Seungcheol half asleep on your other side. “Then you can go back to your little public sex session.”

Soonyoung makes an angry cat noise, narrowing his eyes at you as he smirks. He leans toward you further to reach into his pocket, shoulder pressed against you. His scent fills your nose, heady and familiar. You’re dizzy with it, the touch of his warmth against your skin making you flush.

Suddenly, his nearness is overwhelming. Every hair on the back of your neck stands on end, your skin hypersensitive to the way he leans against you. The glow of the lights is sharper than you remember, and you swear you feel the blood rushing through your body.

A response that could be either because of the drugs you inhaled a moment ago or because Soonyoung is pressed against you and you have the sudden urge to lean into him, to feel his warmth, to press your lips against his and feel their softness.

In an attempt to save yourself from the trap, you shove back at him. He huffs, glaring at you as he fishes a stim pop out of his pocket and hands it over to you. You’re careful to avoid his touch when you snatch it from his nimble fingers, turning your back on him in the booth to look at Seungcheol.

“Why are you being a brat?” His voice is loud over the music, shouted into your ear as he tilts back into your space again. You can feel the warmth of him on your back.

“Go away.”

“Baby, please don’t start with me.”

“I’m not starting fuck with you.”

Seungcheol cracks an eye open to observe your argument with a look of interest. Seungcheol’s pupils are dilated like moons, totally empty of any coherent thought. You peel the wrapper off the stim pop, careful to hold it by the cardboard stick as you pop it into your brother’s mouth.

For a few moments, your brother lolls the candy around his mouth, sucking greedily. Then, he blinks his eyes open, pupils narrowing as he drinks in the lights and the clubs. He sighs in relief, patting your thigh gratefully as the stimulant chases away whatever else is washing him out.

When you turn around, Soonyoung is still lingering, his dark eyes fierce and focused only on you. He looks good tonight. He looks good every night. He has become your picture perfect torture since that night you asked him to be your first kiss, kickstarting something you were incapable of foreseeing.

The bleached hair is new and you hate how much you like it. The silvery strands look just as soft as his natural black, and it’s a nice contrast to his dark eyes and sharp cheekbones. Those stormy eyes are staring at you now, something playful that you don’t like glittering under the surface.

He pouts at you. “Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you. Go away!”

“You definitely are. What did I do, hmm? Tell me.”

“Please fuck off.”

He rolls his eyes, peeling himself off the couch and muttering something under his breath. You’re sure he has nothing nice to say, so you sink further into the couch, crossing your hands over your chest as you sulk.

Sticky air clings to your skin. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, the music vibrating your ribcage. Your anger is like a monster given life, fueled by the frostbyte and the feverish anger taking root in your stomach as Soonyoung settles back in his spot, pressing his mouth sloppily to the woman next to him.

And that’s the problem, really. It’s not you that is pressing your mouth to his jaw while he leans against the back of the seat. It isn’t you running manicured nails down the front of his shirts, pulling at buttons despite the audience.

It isn’t you and it should be. You want it to be.

It’s been two years since Soonyoung kissed you for the first time in his room. You’ve had more experience with other people since then, but it dulls in comparison to his simple kiss. You hate it. What you hate even more is how childish it makes you feel, embarrassment heating your cheeks and throat when he catches your gaze across the booth and you divert your attention.

For the second time, Soonyoung peels the girl off of him, making like he’s going to get up and come sit next to you again. This time, his companion keeps him rooted to the spot, her nails digging into his forearm as she hisses something at him. He groans, head tilted back like he’s once again the most inconvenienced man in the room.

Wanting nothing more than to blot him out, you call Wonwoo’s name again, leaning forward heavily for more frostbyte. Soonyoung whistles and snaps his finger in your direction as though to tell you no. You bristle, your anger turning to an inferno, burning up inside of you.

Vernon and Angel both cringe, leaning out of your line of fire as you swivel to angle yourself toward Soonyoung, hands shaking. “Don’t fucking whistle and snap at me! I’m not a dog.”

“Baby, you don’t need more. Your pupils are the size of Mingyu’s big ass head.”

Mingyu, though right next to Soonyoung, doesn’t hear the insult, his tongue being sucked down the throat of the girl sitting in his lap, hips grinding on him. Another girl is pressed to his side, teeth nipping at his jaw. At least someone is having fun, you think, the three of them totally aware of the crackling tension in their booth.

The girl attached to Soonyoung’s neck a moment ago bristles when she hears your nickname. “Baby?” she asks, face scrunching. “Are you serious?”

“Chill out, Victra. It’s her nickname.”

“Yeah,” you agree, shooting her a venomous look, despite her doing nothing to earn your ire. “Chill, Victra.”

Once again, you turn your back on Soonyoung, standing and scooting Seungcheol over to swap places with him. He does so with a keen eye, watching the scene unfold as he sucks his lollipop happily, content to watch the drama.

Wonwoo dips his knife into the bag as you settle in next to him, bouncing with excitement. “I love when you do drugs, you’re so much fun.”

“I don’t feel very fun right now.”

“Drugs will fix it!”

“Wonwoo, don’t you dare give her that,” Soonyoung warns. He pries Victra’s hands off of him, leaning forward as though to reach across the table.

“Ignore him,” you insist.

Wonwoo hesitates, stuck between a rock and a hard place. The last thing he wants to do is tell you no. No one but your father and older brother get to tell you no. Wonwoo knows this better than most people. But he also doesn’t want to cross Soonyoung, a venture nearly as dangerous as pissing off Seungcheol.

Soonyoung hisses at the girl next to him, “Stop clawing at me! Baby, please stop being stubborn for one moment. Just one. ”

“Why the fuck did you even bring me up here?” Victra interrupts, ignoring Soonyoung’s plea. “You’ve done nothing but fawn over her since we got here. This isn’t fun.”

Soonyoung ignores her. “If you’re mad at me, be mad at me. Stop blowing shit up your nose to prove a point and be a bitch, though.”

“I’m not proving fuck, Soonyoung. And Victra’s right, go fuck her in the bathroom or something and stop telling me what to do.”

“So it is about her?”

“I have a name!” The her in question snaps. You turn around, temper flaring as you level your glare at her. She turns her nose up at you as she says, “It’s obvious you’re bothered he brought me here. Your jealousy is insufferable.”

“Ding, ding ding,” Seungcheol imitates a bell. You turn around to look at Victra. “Round one! Fight!”

It takes a second for Victra’s words to land. It’s like each one hits you a second apart, packing their own punch as you register them. The pulsing music around you fades to a dull roar as you stare at her, seeing the way her lips twitch upward as she realizes she’s right. You are jealous that Soonyoung brought her up here.

Victra’s grin is all it takes for you to spill over. Before you can register what you’re doing, you’re out of your seat and leaping over the table at her, knocking over glasses and bottles. Wonwoo cheers in delight behind you as your brother catches you by the waist, trying to keep you on your side of the booth as you tear at his hands to get across the booth.

Seeing the attack of opportunity while you’re subdued, Victra shoots to her feet. Angel is fast as an adder, one moment sitting in Vernon’s lap and the next striking Victra down into the booth, knee planted in her stomach. Vernon does nothing to stop his girlfriend, opting instead to reach for a water bottle, unscrewing it to take a sip as his girlfriend pins Victra down to the seat with little effort.

Noticing for the first time that their friend is in distress, the two women with Mingyu lift their heads. As soon as one starts to slide from his lap to reach for Angel, you kick a foot out, striking the bucket of alcohol and ice. The bucket goes flying at her, hitting her hard in the face. She screams, crumbling in Mingyu’s lap, cradling her face.

Mingyu and Soonyoung are on their feet in seconds, soaked from the waist down and trying to gain control of the situation as it spirals. Mingyu becomes a blockade between Victra’s two friends, trying to keep them on their side of the booth. Soonyoung is prying a bottle from a hand before it can make its way toward you, yelling something indecipherable.

Angel is still pressing her knee deep into Victra’s gut. Victra’s attention has diverted from you entirely as she screams like a wounded animal, pushing and scratching at Angel’s knee to try and get her off. You’re sure it hurts, but Angel doesn’t budge, sinking her weight into it.

Leaning down, you grab something to lob at them - someone’s shoe - but Seungcheol manages to haul you off your feet and spin you, planting you into the booth behind him. You growl, shoving at his legs to move him out of the way, trying to re-engage.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts. “Are you fucking juicing? Why are you so strong?”

“It’s the drugs,” Wonwoo offers unhelpfully. “Really top of the line drugs.”

“Shut up, Wonwoo!” Both you and Seungcheol bark at the same time.

Wonwoo holds up his hands, leaning back into the seat as he watches the mess unfold with a delighted grin. You strike out with your foot, slamming against the booth’s table, shoving it in Soonyoung’s direction. You hear glass shatter as more things fall off the table, clattering to the ground. There are shrieks and curses that you can’t see with Seungcheol blocking the way.

“He’s a fucking asshole!” You seethe to your brother, panting with rage.

“He is, and you did exactly what he wanted you to do.” You try to kick the table again but he stops you, grabbing your knee. You feel like you can’t get enough air, sweat slicking your skin and the velvet of the couch too sharp against your flesh. “Soonyoung loves a fight when he’s fucked up. You know that.”

“Well fuck him!”

He pulls the stick from his mouth, candied stim gone. He tosses it onto the floor and looks over his shoulder where Mingyu and Soonyoung are corralling the three women out of the booth. “God, Angel broke that girl's rib I think. Hahahha!”

“I want to break her fucking face!”

“I think you broke her friend's face. She is fucked up. That bucket hit her right in the eye. What a shot.”

“If you’re so entertained, why’d you get in my way?”

“There’s a lot of eyes here.” You glance around, noticing other booths looking at you, people ducking toward one another to whisper. “You have an image to maintain.”

Adjusting your shirt, you settle back into the booth. “Alright. Alright I’m good.”

When Seungcheol moves out of the way to take a seat, Soonyoung replaces him. You glare up at him, feeling your anger curl up in you again. His lips twitch, a hint of a smirk as he sits down next to you, sighing heavily and tilting his head to look up at the flashing lights.

The girls are nowhere to be found. Angel is sitting back down next to Vernon who hasn’t moved, and there are servers picking up the mess you made. Mingyu is notably absent, though you can guess where he’s gone for the night. He’s good at making scorned lovers feel better about their bad luck.

“Jealousy is crazy on you,” Soonyoung notes, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he glances at you sidelong. “I kind of like it.”

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” you warn. He laughs, the fight totally leaving him. “I’m serious. Don’t ever do that to me again, Soonyoung. Not to me.”

“Alright, alright. When you say jump, right?”

Soonyoung’s fingers brush against yours. Just the rough feeling of his calluses against the tips of your fingers has you shivering, anger replaced with want. He doesn’t take your hand, doesn’t move to do anything else but lean back in silence with your fingers touching.

Resigned, you say nothing else to him. You’d got what you wanted - sort of - even if you know you made an ass out of yourself doing it. It isn’t the first time he’s made you jealous, but it is the first time it’s boiled over so violently.

You remind yourself not to do frostbyte when you’re mad anymore.

You turn your attention to where Angel is snorting frostbyte up her nose off of her boyfriend’s phone, accidentally turning on the hologram as she does, her face suddenly caged by green screen data. You call her name gently. She looks up at you, pupils blown, reflecting the lights dancing above like dark glass. “Thanks,” you offer.

Her grin is too wide, teeth too white. She reminds you of a demon more than she does an angel. “Anytime.”

When you settle back in, you glance at Soonyoung once. He looks down at you, smirking a single time before he leans into you and rests his head on your shoulder. You feel him melt into you, sighing as his eyes close and he nuzzles a little closer. You put your hand on his thigh, squeezing once before you leave it there, feeling the heat of his skin through his pants.

It isn’t until he’s almost asleep, pressed as close as possible to you that you realize maybe he got what he wanted too.

Rain washes over the black city, the mist turning the thousands of digital and holographic advertisements into a watercolor smear of neon. It smells wet and like rot, the drains overworked and belching water and trash back out into the street as you walk, feet splashing.

You quickly duck out of the way of a group of rowdy men spilling from a bar. You can smell the drink on them, their feet sloshing in the rising water of the street as they dredge toward the next bar. They whistle at the pretty girls dressed in light up raincoats and flickering green contacts, stumbling toward a brothel instead of the bar.

Gripping your umbrella tighter, you quicken your steps. Grease smoke drifts toward you from various hawker carts, the sizzle of meat making your stomach growl. You ignore them, knowing you have dinner with your family later as you take a corner and plunge into the darkness of an underground stairwell.

The LEDs on your umbrella cast a pink light as you descend the stairs, careful not to slip on the caked grime. Two guards stand outside metal double doors, music pulsing faintly behind it. They look you up and down, ready to deny entry until you state your name at the bottom of the steps.

“ID?” the one on the right asks, giving you a critical eye.

Of course he doesn't believe you. The daughter of the Tower would never walk anywhere without a body guard, especially in this part of the city. You spin the umbrella, the pink coalescing as he takes the phone from your hand and taps it, blue lighting up his face when your ID and profile appear in holographic data above the screen.

He clears his throat and bows at the waist. When his counterpart doesn’t, he smacks him hard on the back, making the man lean over. “Apologies, Miss Choi. Right this way.”

Music hits you full on when the doors open, the base creating static in the air. You cringe as it vibrates through your ribcage and teeth, wondering how anyone could stand to be in a club this loud. Popping the umbrella shut, you let your eyes adjust while one security guard remains at the door, shutting it behind you, and the other hands you your ID.

“Should I escort you to the office, Miss?”

Writhing bodies dance together, scintillating like snakes in a pit. Above them, lasers and holograms light up the world with flashes of colors you didn’t even know existed. A wide bar stretches to the left of the floor, lit up by soft cyan lights. Behind it, the bartenders move in a blur, the glow on their clothes turning them ethereal.

You glance at the security guard, who waits patiently before shaking your head. You point to the space above the bar where there are two large, mirrored windows looking out into the club. “Up there?”

“Yes,” he answers, hesitating. “Let me escort you.”

With a roll of your eyes you nod, gesturing to him to lead the way. He clears a path, clubbers and workers alike moving out of his way when he shoves them. You walk behind him, swinging your head from side-to-side as you look at the people, fascinated.

People with spikes pierced in their skin and whorling tattoos with glow ink stare back at you, glowing contact lenses and gemmed teeth all taking you in. You rarely get to mix in with the crowd that partakes in more unique cosmetic alterations and fashion, fascinated by someone who walks by with red glowing face tattoos like a demon mask.

At the foot of the stairs, the guard lets you walk up first. It’s clear of people, so he remains standing at the bottom, taking up an imposing position with his hands linked in front of him, blocking the stairway entirely.

The thud of music vibrates through your boots as you climb the stairs, greeting another security guard. You can tell he’s already been warned you’re here - he bows immediately and keys in the pad at the door, opening the office for you.

You pass by him airily, stepping into the dry and much cooler office. The door closes behind you, immediately cutting off the sound with high–tech sound proofing. Soonyoung is leaning against the bar, his back to the door as he watches out the windows, a glass in his hand.

“What in the fuck are you doing?” he asks, tossing you a look over his shoulder. You grin, skipping over to him. He doesn’t grin back, looking you up and down as you join him. You reach for the decanter he’s drinking from but he smacks your hand, viper fast. “Not a chance.”

“What? Why not?”

“You shouldn’t be here, much less without a security team. The Tower will be livid.”

“The Tower doesn’t have to know.”

Soonyoung’s jaw flexes. “The security team will tell him you were here.”

“Not if you tell them not to.”

“Baby,” he sighs, tilting his head up and closing his eyes. You lean against the bar, watching him. The lights from the club are dimmer in here, but they flash against his face, painting him in golden light. He’s beautiful. “What are you doing here?”

“Angel said you had a bad day.”

“I always have a bad day. And tell Angel to shut her mouth.”

You snort. “You tell her that.”

That gets a grin out of him. He lowers his head, dark gaze finding yours. “You can’t just walk around the Lower City without a personal guard, Baby.”

“I’m not helpless.”

“I know you’re not. I’m not either but people try to rob me all the time. You, on the other hand, are a lot prettier of a prize than I am.”

“So you think I’m pretty?”

This time when Soonyoung sighs, it’s affectionate. He sips his glass of amber liquid, turning to watch the crowd outside the office. He holds out his glass to you, a concession. You grin further, accepting it from him and bring it up to your nose to smell. You don’t know anything about liquor, but from the spiced scent you can tell it’s good quality.

You take a tiny sip. It goes down smooth - strong, but good and warm. Instead of giving him the glass back, you cradle it to your chest, leaning against the bar next to him close enough that your arms are almost touching. He continues looking out at the crowd, keen eyes serious and back to work while you look at him.

Soonyoung is beautiful. His side profile is lethal, the slope of his neck elegant, the curve of his jaw sharp but delicate, his high cheekbones catching the light. His eyes are dark pools, reflecting the snatches of light that come through the dark windows.

“Did you come here to stare at me?” he asks, never taking his eyes off the crowd.

“What if I said I did?”

His mouth twitches at the corner. “Unfortunately I would believe you.”

Watching over clubs isn’t usually Soonyoung’s job. But this club is in a terrible part of the city and isn’t worth much to the Choi Syndicate, so sometimes he’s awarded the opportunity to prove himself to your father and to the elders of the Syndicate that he’s competent and capable of leadership, despite the fact you’ve always known him to be.

Soonyoung isn’t meant for leading like Seungcheol. But there is a certain level of loyalty and understanding he has to cultivate with the heavies of the family, the Swords who carry out the bloody tasks of removing people from the way and keeping assets safe. His father had been the Sentinel of your family for years until his death, and Soonyoung is expected to pick up that mantle.

This is all a part of that. Soonyoung already has the loyalty of the security team running this hole in the wall, alerting him the second you arrived and refusing to let you go up the stairs alone. Had they failed to do that, you might think a little less of them.

Soonyoung also probably would have had them beaten.

Finally, Soonyoung turns to look at you. He sighs and raises his brows expectantly.

“What?” you ask.

“What did you come here for? Real answer, this time.”

“I told you. Angel said you had a bad day. That is my real answer.”

“And?”

You shrug, sipping from the glass and turning toward the windows. “I wanted to make it a better one.”

That makes him go silent. You can see him turn to look at you, his stormy gaze pinning you to the spot. You don’t look at him, letting him stare as you nurse the drink and watch the dancing crowd down below. They’re beautiful, in a way, an ocean of bodies saying as colors turn them blue and then green and then bright red and then lavender.

Soonyoung leans toward you, bumping his head on yours lightly. That gets a laugh out of you, stomach fluttering and wishing he would stay leaned against you. He pulls away though, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his eyes back to his job.

“Thank you,” he finally says, voice quiet. “It is already a better day.”

The silence is comfortable. You eventually give him the drink back and he takes it, tongue darting out to lick the lip gloss you left. He hums. “Cherries.”

“You’re gross.”

He smiles into the glass, taking a sip. “I actually have something for you.”

“A present?”

He snorts. “Not exactly. Go to the desk - top drawer on the right.”

Eagerly, you do as he says. The heavy wooden desk sits in the back of the room, imposing even without the metal lockers behind it with weapons. You ignore the heavy guns under padlocks and go for the drawer in question.

A rectangular box is in the drawer Soonyoung specified, unmarked. You turn it over in your hands, curious. It’s not very heavy and fits mostly in your palm.

“Bring it over here.”

You do, trailing back to Soonyoung. He extends his hand and you pass it over to him, watching with interest as he cracks the box open with the sheer strength of his fingers. He pulls out a small device, a wire and what looks to be a plug, tossing the box to the bar.

“Do you know what this is?” he asks, holding up the device.

It’s a small rectangle with a keypad and a screen. You raise your brows in surprise. “It is a very old phone.”

“It is.” He smiles, pleased with your answer. He passes the materials over to you and you hold them against your chest. “That’s the charger and the charging cord. It’s one of the old kinds of phones that requires a phone tower. There are barely any in the city.”

“And what is this gift for?”

“I own the phone towers that support it.” You raise your brows. Soonyoung rarely spends the inheritance his parents left behind, so you’re surprised. “It only has a single phone number programmed into it that will call the one I have.”

At this, he reaches into his pocket and produces the phone’s twin. He shakes it for emphasis, pressing a button and lighting up the screen. “You have to make sure to keep it charged. I want you to have it for emergencies only. And I mean emergencies, Baby. This is a last resort kind of device, alright?”

You chew your bottom lip, dragging your eyes to look up at him. “Why?”

“Because I need to know that you always have a last resort.” His gaze darkens. “Clearly your assigned security team lets you give them the slip. I need to know that you can hit the dial on this faster than you can on our phones. They’re overly complicated and not quick. With this?”

He reaches over and turns on the phone in your hand. Once booted, he presses the one button. The device in his hand starts ringing. “Direct and fast access to me at all times. Do it even if you can’t tell me where you are. I’ll find you.”

Emotion twists your throat. You grip the phone with a vice grip, looking up at him with wide eyes. His face is serious. He slips his phone in his pocket, turning back to do his job. “I will answer,” he promises. “It doesn’t matter when and where. I will answer that phone even if I’m dying. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He nods. “Good.”

A knock on your door wakes you up from a dreamless sleep. Darkness spills across your room like ink as you slip from your bed, cursing when you kick the corner of your nightstand. With a raspy voice, you ask the automated room assistant to turn on the nightlights, a hazy purple immediately lighting the circumference of your room.

Squinting against the lavender glow, you pad over your room to open the door. Soonyoung is leaning heavily against the wall just beyond the threshold, his chin tucked to his chest and his hair sweaty and clinging to his temples.

He doesn’t move when you open the door, the lilac light casting an eerie radiance on the side of his face. It’s hard to make out his expression in the lurking shadow of the hallway, and he offers no explanation for why he’s knocking on your door at three in the morning.

“Soonyoung?” you whisper, eyes darting down the hall. No one else is around. “Where are Cheol and Vernon?”

“S’cheol is still working. Vernon went to stay at Angel’s.”

“Are you - Soonyoung are you drunk? Or high?”

“Yeah.”

Both you realize. You can deal with both.

Grabbing him by the hand, you tug him gently. He pushes off the wall with heavy steps, stumbling through your open door and into the room. You grip him tighter, shutting your door with a gentle click before turning around to face him.

Soonyoung won’t look at you, turning his face away as he sways a little where he stands. Now that you can see him fully, you realize that there is blood on the collar of his shirt. Heart thudding, your hands reach for it, peeling it back to look at his neck. Specs of dry crimson flake from sweaty skin, making your terror reach new heights.

He shrugs you off. “Not mine.”

“I - what’s going on?”

Instead of answering you, he walks a few crooked steps toward your bed and sits down on the edge. Licking your lips, you approach him slowly. He’s slouched over, elbows pressed to his knees as his head hangs heavily. He still hasn’t looked at you properly and you’re aching to see his eyes. You can always understand him better when you see his eyes, able to read the depth of emotions hiding beneath his mask.

When you reach him, you crouch down. Instead of grabbing for him again and risking him pulling away, you rest your hands on top of your knees. When afraid or upset, Soonyoung is like a cornered animal. You don’t know whether he’s in fight or flight, both just as dangerous as the next.

“Soonyoung,” you say again gently. You watch his every move. “You’re scaring me. Do you need me to call Cheol or Vernon?”

If Seungcheol is working the circuit, he isn’t the best to call. Late night circuits include going from club to club under the Choi banner to monitor the drug trafficking and attend small business meetings as appropriate. Seungcheol will drop whatever he’s doing for you in a heartbeat, but it’s more complicated than that.

In theory, Vernon is easier to get a hold of. He’s already off work and though he might not answer his phone if you call, you know his girlfriend will. Plus, the blood on Soonyoung’s shirt and skin can give you a guess at what’s happened, and Vernon is more equipped for that type of thing than you are.

“Let me call Vernon-”

“No,” he finally says. “No. Sorry. I just.”

Your chest squeezes in pain. It’s like you can feel the torture radiating through him, feel the weight of whatever it is that’s dragging him down yourself. Desperation drives you to reach out toward him slowly, watching for any sign of startling him. When he doesn’t move to pull away, you touch him gently, squeezing his knee gently. “What do you need?”

“My dad always said I should feel something.” His words are halting, coming out slurred. You wait, holding your breath as he works through them. “Always said that you should feel something when you kill someone. If you don’t, it means you’re nothing more than a beast with base instincts. Not intelligent or refined.”

It takes everything in you not to let your grip turn to steel at his words. Instead, you rub your hand up and down his thigh soothingly, saying nothing. Soonyoung has never killed someone before. You would know if he had. He’s the last in your immediate circle of friends beside yourself to take on the weight of stealing life, and you’ve dreaded this day for a long time.

Murder is an inevitability in your family. Keeping the Choi Syndicate on top requires sacrifice, cruelty and cunning. Soonyoung had started serving as an officially ranked member of the Syndicate over a year ago, and though he had fucked up a lot of people and brought them to the brink of death, he hadn’t actually done it yet.

“I felt nothing,” he whispers, voice thick. “Fucking nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was no guilt. I didn’t even flinch. It was so easy, like fucking breathing. That’s not what my dad wanted me to be. He always said that those who felt nothing were just… baser creatures. That we were better because we were… made better.”

“I think your dad wanted a lot of things. You being alive was the most important of those things, Soonyoung.”

“I’m just tired of feeling fucking empty. I don’t give a shit that I killed someone, Baby. Honestly? I was fucking looking forward to it. I thought maybe - just maybe - I would feel something, even if it was guilt or horror or satisfaction. There was nothing.”

You have no idea what to say. Instead of words, you surge forward, letting go of Soonyoung’s knee to push yourself between his thighs, wrapping your arms around his middle. He flinches for a moment, arms hanging dead at his side as you press your cheek to his chest, squeezing.

Inside, you feel your heart crack open. You shove down the overwhelming sense of despair on his behalf, instead focused on him. There’s nothing to say with words, and you hope he can feel what you’re trying to tell him through touch, that he can feel everything you don’t know how to say as you hold him tight, clinging to him.

Slowly, his arms encircle you. It takes him a moment, but he applies a little pressure back. It makes you scoot in more, pressed as close as you can get to him. He buries his face in your neck, his breaths warm and smelling like tequila. He smells like him too, vanilla and sandalwood.

“I don’t feel like a person sometimes,” he whispers. “It’s like the ability for me to feel anything died forever ago. Like I killed it so that I didn’t ever have to hurt again. Now I only ever feel when-”

He cuts himself off and sinks into you a little more. You bear his weight, willing to carry any burden for him. You don’t think he realizes that he could ask you to jump and you’d say how high. You’ve always been willing to jump for him, always willing to do whatever he wants, whatever he needs.

Gently, you ask, “You only ever feel when what? You can tell me if you want. Whatever you need.”

“I feel when I’m with you.” Soonyoung whispers it like it’s a secret he doesn’t want you to hear. You feel the words hit your skin where he speaks them, a shiver slithering through you. His grip on you tightens a little with the admission, like now that he’s said it, he can’t let go. Won’t. “I feel most like a person when I’m with you.”

Pressing the flat of your hand to his back, you begin to stroke up and down slowly, touch following the careful ridges of his spine. He sighs, shivering in your hold. You want nothing more than to take the pain or whatever he’s feeling away, to rip it from him and to destroy it.

The fierceness of your love for him is hard to tamp down. A fiery admission of your feelings for him isn’t what he needs right now. You know Soonyoung like the inside of your own soul, everything that makes him tick, every habit he’s picked up over the years. You can sense him standing lost at sea, needing an anchor. Needing you.

“Okay,” you say softly. “So stay with me. Be a person with me.”

“I’m not made for you.”

“Yes you are.” Your nails dig into his back through his shirt, pressing sharply. The desire to covet him is so intense it overtakes you. “If I make you a person, then how could we be made for anyone but one another?”

Silence greets your logic. You stay holding him like that, desperate to keep him there, terrified he’ll shrug you off and get up. He’s done it before, shucking off your affection like something to be disposed of. And still you give it to him freely, begging him to take it.

He doesn’t shy away from you. Instead you feel him nod, mouth brushing tenderly across your throat in the ghost of a kiss. “If I stay right now, you will never get me to leave. Do you understand? I won’t… I will be incapable of ever letting you go. Ever. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

You hug him tighter. “Try to leave me at your own peril, Kwon Soonyoung.”

“Where’s your other half?” the voice causes you to turn from where you lean against the bar. Angel slides up next to you, cocking her head as she does. She looks like a wraith, dressed in a rain slicker over black long-sleeved shirt that’s tucked into black pants. Her jacket and combat boots are wet, suggesting it’s still raining outside. “You’re usually attached at the hip. My therapist calls that codependency. Says Hansol and I have it too.”

“Does your therapist also know you’re a murderer?” you mutter. The bartender slides drinks over to you and you nod in thanks. “Or that you’re only seeing her because Jeonghan made a bet with you? Or that your job often involves extortion? What does she think about that?”

As a Rook of the Choi Syndicate, Angel’s job is a far cry from the holy nickname she’s sported since she was a child. Like Vernon, her role within your father’s empire is to collect debts owed to the Choi family and to remind them never to fall behind on payments. Other times, she’s simply used as a good tool to put the fear of god into enemies of the Choi family, and she’s good at it.

Raised under the careful tutelage of the Yoon family, there’s no weakness Angel can’t find and use. The only one better at it than her is her step brother, who is probably sitting next to your brother behind closed doors somewhere in the Choi Estate holding a meeting.

As Seungcheol’s future second in command, it’s Jeonghan’s responsibility to learn the ropes just like your brother. One day, it’ll be the two of them leading your family, a thought that makes you cringe with worry.

Angel answers your question with a shrug. “I’m sure she knows I’m into some shit. I’m learning all kinds of new things about myself.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“I don’t like therapy. And I kind of want to ask my therapist why she thinks she’s qualified for therapy when she’s fucking three of her clients.”

A snort escapes you as you shake your head. Of course Angel knows that about her own therapist. Lifting the two drinks on the bar, you drift away from her, eyes flicking over the Rook. “Stay out of trouble, Angel. And give Vernon my love.”

She grins, wicked sharp and deadly. “No bar fights, hmm? Enjoy the party.”

The party in question is exhausting. You’ve been playing pretty princess all night, saying hello to all of the right people, shaking all of the jeweled hands, kissing all of the right asses. You’re exhausted and the tension in your shoulder has been knotting further and further.

Once upon a time you would have been thankful to at least not be Seungcheol. He shouldered a lot more responsibility. Now you’ve realized that you don’t shoulder less than him - it’s just different. If Seungcheol is the sword and shield of the Syndicate, you’re the face and smile. Galas, charities, celebrity events - it’s a never ending stream of smile, pose, shake hands.

It doesn’t hide the fact that you sit on a throne that belongs to a criminal empire, of course. But it’s also no secret that the Three Syndicates run the city. Your family has long been one of the stalwart backbones of the government and city infrastructure. Only the Kim family and the Yong family come close.

Still, appearances are everything. Especially when the Yong family owns most of the media outlets, weaponizing it against the Choi Syndicate every chance they get. You make it harder for them, using your appearances and platforms like a carefully wielded sword.

Spotting Soonyoung among those dressed in dark security uniforms is easy. He nearly blends in with the dark pipe and drape that has been set up all over the ballroom of your home, but you could find him anywhere, your internal compass pointing to him even in the dark.

Soonyoung’s eyes alight on you, sharp and intense. His face is a cool mask of indifference, but you can see the way interest sparks in his eyes as he drinks you in. He’s already seen you in your dress tonight, but it doesn’t stop him from refamiliarizing himself, eyes tracing every dip and curve.

God you wish you were somewhere else with him. Specifically wrapped in the gray sheets of his bed, sweat-slicked and out of breath.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you say shyly, handing him a drink.

He takes it and looks up at you, arching a brow. “I can’t drink this, I’m working.”

“It’s just soda with lime, the way you like it.”

His lips twitch in a smile as he takes a sip, nodding in confirmation. He doesn’t reach out to you and hold you close like you know he wants to, respecting the propriety of his position and the fact that he is on the clock right now.

“You look tired,” he murmurs, eyes studying your face.

So does he. As an official Sword of the Choi family, his job keeps him out late, bloodied, and tired. He’s completely changed from the man who sank into your arms that first night he killed someone, hardened into someone that your father sends to do just that often.

A weapon. A Sword. A trusted knife in the dark for the Choi family.

You think Soonyoung is more capable than being a heavy for your dad and his associates. Soonyoung is intelligent and sharp, having gained perspective and a wealth of knowledge from living with your family. Still, his dad had been the leader of the hired guns for the Choi Syndicate. Soonyoung is an efficient killer, his fate bound by his father long ago.

“When are you off tonight?” you ask instead of telling him how tired he looks.

“I’m not.” You frown. He sips his drink again and gives you a soft smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s been busy. The Yong family are getting in our way at the docks. I gotta head down there with Vernon and Jeonghan after the party.”

“The Yongs are doing it outright?”

“No. We’re pretty confident it’s them though. Jeonghan is working on it. If we can bring the Xu family under our wing, it would be a lot easier to push them out.”

“They have a son,” you note, thinking about the last event you attended where the Xu heir was in attendance. “Maybe marriage to one of our big hitters? Nexus Capital has an heiress.”

“I’ll mention it to Jeonghan. Who the fuck would want an arranged marriage, though?”

“Not me,” you laugh, wiping the eyelash you spot on his cheek gently. He gives you a tired, albeit affectionate smile. “You’ve been working nonstop. Tell Seungcheol you need a night off.”

“We both know it’s not Seungcheol working me to the bone, Baby.”

Swallowing thickly, you turn away from him under the guise of scanning the crowd. You know you don’t fool him. Both you and Soongyoung know your father does not approve of your relationship, taking it out on Soonyoung to keep him busy and away from you.

Your father would never hurt Soonyoung directly. You know that. He loves him like a son - sees his late best friend in the features of the man that Soonyoung has been shaped into under his care and tutelage. When you started dating Soonyoung seriously, you thought your parents might be happy. They adore him and they loved his parents just as much.

Soonyoung is below your station, though.

Your father will never say it outright. He wouldn’t insult his late friend’s son that way. But the way your father works Soonyoung harder than anyone else, holding him to a standard he doesn’t even keep for his highest level of men, you realize how deep the dissatisfaction goes. Even your mother’s adoration of Soonyoung does little to shield him from the petty assignments, try as she might.

Still, you don’t care. And at the end of the day, neither does Soonyoung. As long as he gets to have you, he’s willing to put up with the petty assignments and the working late.

“Hey,” Soonyoung says gently, bringing your attention back to him. He finishes his drink and sets it on a banquet table nearby. His eyes are averted, looking somewhere across the room as his hand slips around your waist to squeeze you quickly and press a kiss to your temple. “I’ve got to go - I’ve got a meeting with Vernon before we head out tonight. I’ll see you when I’m done. Probably won’t be until late morning.”

“Alright,” You sigh. His hand slips from your waist and you wish you could pull him back to you. “Love you.”

He grins brightly, giving you a wink before he melts into the crowd, weaving around party goers. Your heart squeezes when you lose sight of him.

Someone clearing their throat catches your attention. You spin around to see Lan, one of your father’s personal Swords nodding politely at you. “Your father wishes to see you in the West Parlor. I’m to escort you.”

“Oh. Sure.” You set your drink down on the banquet table, wiping your damp hands on your dress. “Lead the way.”

People bow their heads in respect as you go. You keep an even pace with Lan, which is hard to do with his long strides and your strappy heels digging into your ankles. He slows for your benefit and you give him a grateful smile, the swelling noise from the party leaving you behind as you step out of the ballroom and walk toward the west wing of the house.

Some people mill about the halls of the estate. You can spot the members of the Syndicate who are on duty, mostly Swords that belong to the security force employed under the Choi family. You spot Chan leaning against a wall while gesturing broadly with his hands as he speaks to the owner of a new club on the edge of the Pearl District. When he catches your stare, Chan winks before focusing his attention back on the owner. Probably trying to work out some sort of deal or partnership, as is his job.

The west wing of the house is quiet and off limits to the rest of the party. Your bedroom is just up two flights of stairs, your bed calling your name as you pass under the stairwell into the hallway that belongs to the West Parlor, the library, the study and your father’s billiards room.

Old Man Vero is standing outside your fathers study, his hands linked in front of him and his head straight forward. He glances your way as Lan leans you toward the door, cracking a bit of a smile on his leathery face and giving you a wink. You grin, lightly reaching out and touching his elbow as Lan opens the door for you. Your father’s Swords have been in your life since you were a child, permanent figures of fixed loyalty and familiarity.

They love you like they love your father, like they love your brother. It isn’t pure fear and power that keeps the Choi Syndicate together. Your father has plenty of that among the ranks, but the loyalty and love between him and his higher ranking members is real. Critical. It was a skill he taught you and Seungcheol, both of you arming yourself with your own shield of friends and confidants.

Your father sits in a leather armchair, leaned back with his eyes closed. Next to him, a cigar smokes in the ashtray, threatening to go out as the thin wisps of smoke vanish into the air. An old fashioned record player echoes in the far corner of the room, smoothe notes vibrating through the air.

“Tower,” you greet him formally, bowing at the waist. “How can I be of service to the family?”

His eyes flutter open and he looks at you tiredly. He looks so much like your brother that it’s uncanny, sometimes. But his youth has worn off, his age more and more evident these days as he spreads himself thin expanding the Choi empire. Your mother has asked him - begged him - to give more responsibility to Seungcheol, but he refuses.

At least you know where your stubborn streak comes from.

“So formal,” he notes, his lips twitching upward. He gestured for you to sit in one of the arm chairs. You do, smoothing your dress carefully as you sit. Behind you, Lan exits the room, the soft click of the door behind you. “You were always a better student than your brother.”

“That’s because he’s a man.”

A hearty laugh makes you grin, feeling a flutter of fondness. He was never an overly affectionate father, but he’s always been kind, though firm. You respect him, which is saying something in your world.

“Spoken like an intelligent woman,” he sighs. You wait patiently, watching as he seems to gather his words. Your stomach knots, sensing a trepidation about him that you’re not used to. “Your intelligence has always been your best asset, though you’re a little hot-headed like your brother.”

“Steadfast is the mountain,” you say, quoting the Choi family motto.

He grins and adds your mother’s family moniker, “But the fire does burn. I knew marrying your mother was a good choice. Marrying the right person is paramount in this life. Family unions can make or break an empire, and they forge old alliances anew or secure new alliances.”

A prickle down your spine makes you sit straighter. You had implied as much earlier to Soonyoung about the Xu family, knowing marriage was a viable option to bring the shipping mogul into the Choi empire. Now, though, the notion has you on edge, watching him like a frightened cat.

“I didn’t pick your mother, you know,” he muses, his eyes unfocusing somewhere far away. “But when my father recommended her, I knew he was right. I was familiar with her, of course. We went to school together. Fought like cats, but she was so intelligent and fierce.”

You’ve heard this story before. Your father hadn’t loved her to start, but your mother had loved him right away. Had always known that she loved him. She’d shown up at one of his billiard nights and told him exactly how she felt, asserting that they would be married and that he would be loyal to her.

He’d fallen in love with her that night.

He sighs heavily. “I see a lot of your mother in you.”

“Don’t let her hear you sound so disappointed. She might be offended.”

“She’s better than me,” he says. His eyes focus on you, flicking back to appraise you. Sweat slicks on your back and only years of training keep you from not fidgeting under his weighty gaze. “But it would be easier sometimes if you were more like me. Less fire, more mountain. Still, you are rational, so let us speak plainly: you are going to marry the Kim family heir.”

Silence hangs in the air. You stare at him, your brain taking a moment to catch up with his words. It’s like you’re moving in slow motion, processing the firmness in his voice, the way he looks at you with heavy countenance.

You are going to marry the Kim family heir.

A high-pitched ringing starts in your ears and you feel the buzz of panic start to tingle at the base of your spine. Your fingers dig into the arms of your chair a little, trying to fight the staccato rhythm of your heart from getting out of control.

“What?” you ask. It feels dumb, compared to the eloquence you’re capable of.

“Kim Yijun is a perfect match,” he says simply. “He’s in line to inherit the Kim Syndicate. There is tension with the Yong family, and I will not lie to you: they have a far larger reach than we would like. They don’t do things the old way like the Choi and Kim families. They have started to ally themselves with the Arash family in Veridian, giving them cuts and room in our city to spread their reach outside the bounds of their own city.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The Kim and Choi families have been united before. They’ve always been our first ally in times of city upheaval and Syndicate war, and they, like us, don’t believe in letting outsiders have a seat at the table. The Yong family don’t understand that, and are willing to let vermin have scraps if it means scooting us out.”

“I’m-” you shake your head. “You can’t ask that of me.”

“I’m not asking.” He reaches for a lighter and picks up the cigar. He takes a moment to relight it, taking his focus off of you. You feel your pulse spiking, your grip on the chair like iron. “I am telling you that this is what your future will be. I understand you like the Kwon boy, but-”

You sneer, baring your teeth. “The Kwon boy? Don’t reduce him to some stranger. Soonyoung grew up in this house, he is family. And I don’t just like him, I love him. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you bullying him because you’re frustrated that I love him. You love him too.”

“I do. I love him like my own. But he is not for you.”

“He is. I will not marry Yijun. I am asking you not as a member of this Syndicate, but as your daughter to drop this machination from your plans. I am your blood, you cannot ask this of me.”

“I told you, I am not asking. I am telling you.”

A tremor starts in your hands. Your heart races so fast that you feel sick, sweat slicking your skin as you begin to pant sharply. The ringing in your ears grows until you feel disconnected to it, like suddenly you’re living in third person. You’re aware that you’re hyperventilating and yet, suddenly it’s separate from you.

Standing abruptly, you feel the world tilt. You take a second to steady yourself, feeling the numb tingle spread throughout you like a flood.

“Sit down,” your father demands. You hear the warning. Recognize the firmness in it. This is the Tower of the Choi Syndicate speaking, not your father.

“Take this as my resignation from the family,” you tell him. Your voice doesn’t feel like your own, steady and without inflection. “I’ll renounce my inheritance and will not use the Choi family for any connection or advantages-”

“You will not!”

His voice startles you. Lures you away from the safety of your detachment. You look at him, eyes wide and shaking. His hand is fisted on the armchair, his rage crackling around him like a thunderstorm. “I will not have my only daughter sabotage everything this family has built for the affection of someone unfit for her station. Kwon Soonyoung is a weapon meant to serve you. You will marry Kim Yijun or I will remove the obstacle altogether.”

Your entire life there have been two versions of your father. The stoic leader of one of the oldest criminal empires in Hyperion, the vicious man who could be cold and calculating, and who was reverently feared by his enemies. The kind father who watched you and Seungcheol study math together, carefully explaining to you how to carry numbers over in the equation.

It is the former who sits before you now. Someone entirely unfamiliar to you, though you’ve always known he existed. And why would you? Your father has never had to be ruthless with you before, hiding the way he could cut from you until it was necessary.

Soonyoung knew. You know it with absolute clarity. You remember the fear in his eyes when you had slipped into his room that night asking for a kiss, the way that he is always so careful about when and where he touches you, the way he takes the assignments and the mistreatment without so much as a protest because it means he gets to have you.

“You would kill him?” you whisper, looking your father in the eye. “You promised to take him in when his family was murdered. He had no one, and you promised his father you’d raise him as your own. You would go back on that?”

He scowls. “If his father knew what he was, he’d kill Soonyoung himself. That boy is a dog to be set upon whoever his owner wishes, who kills with impunity.” You say nothing. I don’t feel like a person. Soonyoung’s words echo in your mind, haunting. “I hold the collar and I will put him down, if need be.”

“So you raised a pet to be disposed of at your convenience?”

“I raised a boy who should be grateful I haven’t put him in the fucking ground for sullying my only daughter. I let you two have time, and you should be grateful. It is my love for him that has stayed my hand this long. No more. You will marry Kim Yijun, or you will bury that boy. This is the command of your Tower.”

“Mother will not let you-”

“Your mother doesn’t let me do anything. I am the Tower of this family, and it does what I command. You will fall in line.”

Tears spill from your eyes. You suddenly feel like you’re standing on a cliff, the vertigo of nothingness at the bottom making you sick with fear. Desperation grips at you as you stare at your father, willing him to change his mind. Begging him.

His pity doesn’t come. There is only resolute silence, watching as you crumple in front of him, knees going weak as you abruptly sit - fall - on the floor. You bury your face in your hands, grief for something lost stealing your ability to maintain control before you’ve even given an answer.

I’m not made for you.

Soonyoung had tried to tell you a long time ago and you’d brushed him off. Of course he was made for you. He was all you’ve ever wanted, and you’ve always been given what you wanted. You made him whole, and he you. How could you not be made for one another.

“Please don’t do this to me. Daddy,” you whisper, trying to appeal to him with the little girl he loves. “Please, I love him.”

“Lan will escort you to your room.” You ignore his words, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, willing the tears to stop. You know later you’ll feel pathetic for the display of emotion, for the meltdown in the face of adversity. “You will announce your engagement at the end of the week.”

“Yes, Tower.”

“If you so much as remotely try to sneak around with him, I will put him in the ground and bear the weight of that grief for eternity.”

“Yes, Tower.”

“Know that I love you. We must make sacrifices for this family we wish not to. But you will make the sacrifice like I have so many times before. So will Soonyoung.”

You stand, limbs shaky as you look at your father, the heat of your mother’s rage fueling your gaze. “Yes, Tower.”

Sleep claws at you with greedy fingers, unwilling to give you up to the waking light of day. You groan, suspended in that moment of almost awake but achingly unaware. A brush of warm skin on your arm pulls you the rest of the way from heavy sleep, your thoughts sticky as they formulate and you open your eyes, squinting in the gray light of your room.

Squinting at the clock displayed on your nightstand, you realize it’s late morning. The tinted windows of your room keep out the sunlight, but a single panel has been adjusted to let some of the cloudy day in, a single shaft of gray spilling into your room like muddy water.

Warmth presses behind your back, the steady touch on your arm trailing up and down. For a second, you lean back into it, feeling your head thud against Soonyoung’s chest, his mouth pressing against the crown of your head. He drags his fingers up and down your arm absently, light as a feather. He smells like soap, a hint of his familiar vanilla and sandalwood.

“Have trouble sleeping?” the words are mumbled against you.

“Hmm?”

“There’s lines of crushed knockout on your nightstand, Baby.”

You look at the nightstand. Sure enough, the white pills you crushed are dusted across the surface. The reality of why you used them slams into you so suddenly that you stiffen, muscles locking.

Soonyoung notices immediately, his touch stilling. “What?”

Finding the words is impossible. You don’t know where to start, your father’s words make you dizzy. The sheets stick to your skin, Soonyoung’s warmth too hot to stand. You scramble from bed, kicking at the sheets and putting distance between you as you bolt toward the bathroom.

“Hey,” he calls after you. You don’t turn to look at him, the cool tile giving you goosebump as the lights flicker on. You close the door behind you firmly, pressing your back against it. Soonyoung’s knocks are immediate, his voice calling your name on the other side. “What’s wrong?”

The use of your name sours your stomach. You lurch forward, diving for the toilet as the contents of your stomach empty. The bile burns, your eyes watering as you press against the cold porcelain, clinging to it for life.

Soonyoung opens the door, letting himself in as you heave again. He’s quick to react, opening the medicine cabinet to remove an anti-nausea inhalent. He wordlessly pads over to you, crouching down to extend it toward you.

You avoid looking at him directly in the eye as you snatch it from him. His brows are pinched in concern, face swollen with what little sleep he got and mouth turned downward. Your stomach roils again but holds as you crack the inhalent and wave it under your nose, breathing in gently.

The stimulant makes your eyes water, but immediately the churning in your stomach subsides. You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in and out slowly, trying to regulate yourself. Soonyoung watches in silence, his hands opening and closing at his sides like he wants to reach out and touch you but doesn’t.

When you open your eyes, there is so much love and concern on his face that you almost break right then and there. Instead, you clear your throat and straighten, tossing the medication in the trash.

“Thanks, just hungover. I need to shower.”

He looks doubtful. “Alright.”

Soonyoung stands, heading to the shower. You clear your throat and he pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Alone, please.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just want to shower.”

He says your name again. Not Baby. Not any other derivative. Your name. “You can talk to me.”

Your heart cracks. You panic. Your brain races for the only viable option. “I just want to take a fucking shower, Soonyoung.” You push yourself off the ground, scowling at him. He moves out of your way as you pass him, stunned to silence. “I don’t need you crowding my space every five seconds.”

Refusing to look at him as you hit the panel in the wall, you instead focus on the water that falls from the ceiling, a storm of heat and the smell of peppermint. You keep your back turned toward him, staring at the water as it heats, steam curling in tendrils where it hits the stone tiles.

“You can go,” you say sharply.

“Alright.”

The gentle click of the door when he leaves is barely audible over the hum of the shower. You let the rushing water lull you into a state of numbness, peeling your clothes off with unsteady, mechanical movements.

Hot water slicks off your shoulders. You close your eyes and hang your head, letting the feel of the peppering water sluice over your ears, eyes, nose, mouth. You let it blind your senses to nothing but the roar of water, blotting out everything else.

If I stay right now, you will never get me to leave.

You remember when Soonyoung whispered it against your skin just a few years ago, spoken carefully and clearly, a promise and a warning. He would never let you go. You had to let him go. Telling him what your father has asked of you - has threatened to take away from you - will only make Soonyoung’s feet dig in further.

For as long as you’ve known him, Soonyoung has been a covetous creature. You remember the night at the club he antagonized you just to see that spark of want, just to prove to himself it was him you wanted. You remember the way he clung to you in the dark of your bedroom, the only person who could ever make him whole. Who could make him feel.

Your father sees Soonyoung as a loyal attack dog - but it isn’t the Tower of the Choi Syndicate who holds Soonyoung’s collar. It never has been. Soonyoung has never asked your father how high.

Pressing your palms to your eyes, you start deep breathing exercises. In through your nose, out through your mouth. The shaking in your fingers begins to subside, the logic part of your brain turning on.

The threat on Soonyoung’s life is real. You saw the resolve in your father’s eye, the painful glint. He would hate to do it, but he would do it. You’re entwined too deep into your family’s affairs and business to vanish. There is nothing in the world you have that’s your own, no assets that are not connected to them in some way.

And if you tell Soonyoung, he’ll face the problem like he does everything that stands in his way: try to kill it.

For a split moment, your brain chases the thought like a mouse after cheese. Like a long math problem, you work out if it’s possible to commit patricide and get away with it. Your mother will never forgive you, but Seungcheol might. Your friends would - they’re loyal to you, especially Jeonghan and Angel.

The older generation, though-

You toss aside the thought almost as quickly as you thought of it - not because you don’t want to kill your father, but because it isn’t possible. Not just like that. There are too many pieces on the chessboard, too many domino effects spreading out in every direction if you take that route.

No. There is only a single path for you, set in motion by a hand with more power than you.

And there’s only one way you can move forward with Soonyoung.

There’s so much of your mother’s side of the family you’ve inherited. Her side has always been associated with the phoenix, the burning immortality of their name and their strength, a blazing glory. Your maternal relatives have always been the rage and the fire that was needed for a Syndicate to advance, a good partnership for the Choi’s who were cold and steadfast.

What you need now is the winter of the mountain, not the rage of the phoenix. You need to be a Choi.

Steadfast is the mountain.

You love Soonyoung. You love him you love him you love him youlovehimyoulovehimyoulovehimYOULOVEHIMYOULOVEHIM-

Pressing your fist to your mouth, you bite down for one, blinding moment of untapped rage. You feel your skin break, taste iron and salt, feel pain bloom.

Steadfast is the mountain.

Then it’s gone. You drop your hand from your mouth. Open your eyes. Turn off the shower. The rage is gone, buried beneath a layer of newly formed ice. If there is anyone you can do this for, it’s Soonyoung. You love him. You will destroy him. But he’ll be alive.

Soonyoung is sitting on your bed when you open the door. He’s got a tablet in his hand, the holographic images displaying above the screen, haloing his face in blue light. There are circles under his eyes and his teeth worry at his bottom lip, which is chapped. He’s shirtless, the compact planes of his body half shadowed by the single shaft of light filtering through a window.

He looks up at you but you ignore him, heading to your closet. The silence is brutal. You push through it, opening the closet doors to reveal a massive space nearly the same size of your bathroom. Track lights kick on, rows and rows of clothes by color greeting you. In the middle, there is an island counter, filled with drawers and biolocked jewelry safes.

Soft steps tell you Soonyoung is standing at the entrance of the closet. You still don’t face him, walking over to your section of black clothes. You flick through them, eyes scanning. Black seems appropriate. It feels like death, afterall.

Soonyoung’s voice is soft as his late night kisses. “What’s going on?”

“I’m marrying Kim Yijun.”

A beat passes. Then another.

“Is that supposed to be a joke? I’m not interested in pranks this morning.”

“It’s not a prank.” You pull out a black, silk dress. “The Tower has asked this of me, and I’ll be doing it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

You continue, undeterred as you put the dress back and keep looking. “The Kim family has agreed to the match ahead of the rising tensions with the Yong Syndicate and their new take on foreign allies. A united front of the old families will benefit our family-”

“You’re not fucking marrying Kim Yijun.”

“All of the metrics we’ve run for public opinion and potential city-wide reaction are favorable. The Tower needs his children to fall in line, and I intend to do so.”

Soonyoung storms toward you. You turn on your heel, holding a finger out to him, voice severe, “Don’t come near me.”

“Why? Because you know you’ll lose your resolve? Because the second I touch you, you’ll drop whatever bravado this is and let me help you?”

Exactly that. He knows you inside and out. Sees through the front. It doesn’t matter. You don’t need him to believe you, you need him to obey.

He takes another step and you back up. “I will scream,” you threaten, venom in your voice. “I will scream and Seungcheol and Vernon are right down the hall. Whose side do you think they’ll take, with your reputation for violence?”

“Fuck you, they know I’d never hurt you.”

You hear the waver in his voice. That tiny sliver of doubt, so small and tiny but there. They do know he would never hurt you, but Soonyoung isn’t convinced they’d believe him. It makes you sick, but you latch onto it, unspooling that tiny bit of hurt. “Do they, Soonyoung? I hear some of them call you a mad dog because you attack with no regard for anything. Do you really think they trust you entirely with me?”

Soonyoung is raging. His chest rising and falling, shaking his head back and forth as he tries to understand. You’re rooted to the spot, muscles coiled, pulse thudding in your throat. “You are not,” he growls. “Marrying Kim Yijun. You don’t even want to, don’t try to lie to me about your feelings or insult me thinking you can bait me. You love me. You are mine.”

“I belong to the Choi family and it’s what my family needs from me. I will do my duty.”

“Fuck your family!” His roar makes you flinch, briefly closing your eyes. His palm slams on the top of the countertop in front of him, sharp in the silence. “You have a duty to me. I told you I would not fucking let you go. You’re not doing it. I’ll fucking kill him, you think I won’t? I’ll murder every last one of them-”

“You don’t tell me what to do, Kwon Soonyoung. I will do this, and you will obey.” He bristles, going rigid as your words land like a slap. “When I say jump, you say how high. You’ve always known that.”

For a second, he cracks. The Soonyoung you first saw on your doorstep, crying and round-cheeked and ruddy returns. His lip trembles and the way he looks at you nearly melts your iron will. You’re so close to collapsing, to laying it out before him, to risking it all.

“Don’t do this to me.” His whisper is made of glass. Delicate. He presses his palm to his chest, right over his heart. Earnest. “I can’t - you know I can’t. I- please. I can’t do this.”

Licking your lips, you look him in the eyes. His eyes are your favorite. Dark. Stormy. Endless. They are lined with silver, panic rippling across the surface.

You lift your chin and push back your shoulders. “You can and you will, because I told you to jump, Soonyoung. Now ask how high.”

Sunlight warms the back of your neck, humidity clinging to your skin like a second layer. You take a deep breath, though the steamy air offers no relief. You snap open a silk fan, waving it in front of your face in hopes of chasing away some of the sweat, feeling the separation between skin and makeup the longer you sit in the wretched heat of the garden.

It’s not even real sunlight or heat. You can’t tell beyond the projection in the room, but you know that there are vents heating up the room and controls that make the air humid and sticky, making it feel like you’re sitting in a real garden outside somewhere lush.

Lin drones on and on about something. You tuned her out long ago, eyes flickering back and forth to your watch and the women’s faces around you. None of them here are really your friend - not in the way Angel is, the way Wonwoo or Jeonghan are.

Yet you’re expected to be here, entertaining the upper echelon wives of the Choi and Kim Syndicates, boiling away in an imaginary garden while you sweat to death, dress clinging to your skin and thighs slippery in the seat as you adjust yourself, uncomfortable.

“It’s hot as a motherfucker,” a whispered voice comes from next to you. You look up to see the newly engaged heiress of Nexus Capital next to you, glaring behind the dark shade of her sunglasses as Lin continues rambling about something. “Couldn’t she have made it less real?”

A smirk twitches on your lips. You haven’t spoken to her much, but her recent engagement to Xu Minghao had secured the position the Choi Syndicate had been fighting for in the shipping yards and docks with the Yong family, elevating her family into the favored circle of your father.

Suddenly, you remember who had recommended that marriage in the first place. You remember the party, the pretty dress you wore, Soonyoung’s hand briefly on your waist as he kissed you goodbye for a meeting. You had no idea then that your throwaway comment about an arranged marriage to benefit your family would become your own nightmare under an hour later.

Grief is a funny thing. You never knew that you could feel grief for someone who isn’t dead, yet sometimes you feel such an overwhelming amount of grief at the hole that Soonyoung has left behind that you can’t breathe.

Throat dry, you reach for water, drinking eagerly. You feel a bead of water run down your face, but you ignore it in favor of trying to focus on not panicking.

Anxiety attacks are new for you. Though your entire life has been colored with stressful situations unique to growing up in a criminal Syndicate, you could never say that you were anxious before. At least not in the way that made the back of your neck too hot and the tips of your fingers buzz with the threat of a looming meltdown.

You ignore it. It’s all you know how to do. The anxiety medication your therapist gave you doesn't work, and you can’t crush a bunch of pills and inhale them anytime you feel like you’re about to get tunnel vision and spiral.

Well, you suppose you can, but you’re trying not to get into the habit.

Instead of acknowledging the way the panic lurks around your edges like a predator waiting to pounce, you listen to the dull conversation around you. Focus on the gossip that you don’t care about, exactly, but know it’s good to have.

Since marrying into the Kim family, you’re not sure what your job is. With your family, your role as the face, the legacy and the representation of the Choi Syndicate had always been clear and obvious. Now, your husband sends you to stupid things like this with preening people that you don’t like and makes you leave events early when he’s irritable.

Gossip is a weapon, though. So you gather it when you can, taking in bits of information and storing it for yourself. Rarely do you offer it to Yijun - not that he would take it - but Jeonghan finds the information you share useful. So does Angel, but there’s rarely anything you know that she doesn’t.

Just as your anxiety begins to fade, the source of it materializes.

At first, you think you’re seeing things when a door appears in the wall depicting an apple orchard and Soonyoung strolls out into the fake-sun. You blink dumbly, spine tingling as you realize that your mind is not playing tricks on you and it is him.

He sees you immediately. His dark eyes burn like embers, pinning you to the spot. His face remains motionless but you see his jaw tick, the only sign that he is immediately on edge when he sees you. He’s dressed for work in an all black suit, required for the Swords of the Choi family.

Giggles breakout around the table as he approaches, the ladies around you all flushed cheeks and demure smiles. You feel the buzzing start in your hands again, this time worse. It goes up your arms, working its way to your chest as the anxiety increases tenfold, heart pounding.

Soonyoung bows. “I beg your pardon, ladies.”

“My goodness, Soonyoung,” Lin preens. “You must be horribly hot in that suit, but you do look handsome.”

You fight the urge to snarl at her that the imitation of the garden isn’t real and no amount of pretending will make it real. You even imagine reaching across the table and plunging her fish knife into her hand. Instead, you watch Soonyoung, your hummingbird heart fluttering.

He gives her a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be alright. I apologize for interrupting, but the Tower of the Choi family has sent me to escort his daughter home.”

“Home?”

“The Choi Estate.”

He doesn’t say what he means: the Kim Estate is not your home.

“Alright,” you say, voice reedy. Your hands are trembling as you slide your chair from the table, the metal legs grinding loudly against concrete. You flinch at the sound, hyper aware of every bead of sweat crawling down your spine, every beat of your heart that is too fast, too hard.

Static fills you as you mumble parting words to the women who watch you in confusion. At least, you think you mumble your goodbyes. Blood rushes in your ears as you take uneven steps toward Soonyoung, who turns on his heel and starts marching toward the apple orchard.

It feels like you’re in an echo chamber. Everything suddenly feels hollow and everything sounds as though you’re hearing it through a thin wall. Muted. Dull. He opens the door that you can’t quite spot even this close, ushering you inside as your vision starts tunneling to a narrow point, everything else blurry and distorted.

No. No no no no no.

Lifting your hands, you glance down at them to see them trembling, opening and closing your fists in an attempt to stop the buzzing feeling, as though you could will it away. You think Soonyoung says something but you can’t hear him over the roar of panic that grips you and tears you sideways.

Instead of following him down the hall, you lurch toward a different hall, rushing toward the powder room. It feels like the walls are narrowing as you throw open the door, breath coming out in pants. Everything feels tight and compact, crushing smaller still.

Stumbling to the sink you try to turn the faucet on. Once. Twice. Cold water spits from the faucet and you gasp, leaning down over the sink to splash freezing water into your face. It doesn’t have the desired effect, the water is not cool enough to shock you out of your panic.

Soonyoung speaks behind you. You can’t hear him, the grip of your anxiety so strong that you grab the edges of the sink to keep you up right. You’re heaving now, heart rattling so hard you think that maybe you’re having a heart attack instead.

A firm grip wretches your attention from the porcelain sink to the mirror, where you see your dripping reflection, eyes blown like saucers. Soonyoung is standing behind you, a hand on your bicep, squeezing. His face is no longer a mask of indifference, but one of confusion.

His mouth moves and you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “I can’t,” you gasp, ragged. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Then, he does something that catches you entirely off guard. You watch in slow motion as he steps back and removes the gun from the holster underneath his suit jacket. You hear the safety on the gun click and the hum as the weapon charges, ready to fire rounds of plasma if he squeezes the trigger.

And then he points the gun at your head, the lights on it flipping from blue to red, signaling it’s ready to kill.

The world stops. The panic vanishes for a split second, replaced with utter shock as you stare at him in the mirror.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you demand, voice stronger than you expect.

Soonyoung is ten levels of crazy, but he’s never pointed a gun at you before. You stare at him, open-mouthed and wondering if he’ll do it. If he could pull the trigger. He’d told you a hundred times when you were together that he would never let you go and it was always with clarity that you understood what he meant: it’s me or no one.

With stark clarity, you realize there’s no reason for Soonyoung not to pull the trigger. He doesn’t care much about the value of his own life from what you can glean over the last two years, and he doesn’t really seem to care about yours.

Not that he should. You promised to make him feel human and you did. Then you took it away from him, leaving him adrift in a vast ocean of nothing alone and untethered.

No, you don’t think you inspire Soonyoung to feel human anymore. If anything, you probably make him want to be the worst version of himself.

Soonyoung’s voice holds no emotion when he asks, “Are you with me?”

“Why are you pointing a gun at me?”

“Breathe,” he says instead. He doesn’t lower the weapon, stormy eyes focused on yours. “Breathe,” he repeats. “Slowly, maybe.”

“Soonyoung, you are holding a gun at me, what do you mean breathe?”

“What do you mean what do I mean? I mean what I fucking said. Breathe normally.”

“Lower the gun!” He does. “What the fuck?”

He breaks eye contact, sliding the weapon back into his suit jacket. He turns away from you as though he didn’t have you at gunpoint a second ago. “You were having a panic attack. Sometimes a shock to the system stalls it. Your breathing has slowed down now. And you’re not panicking.”

A beat of silence passes. Then, “So you leveled a gun at my head?”

“It worked. Let’s go.”

“Are you fucking crazy?”

“Yes. Now let’s go. You’re needed at the Choi Estate.”

“Why?”

“Do I look like I have all the answers? I just do what I’m told. When a Choi says jump, remember?”

You visibly flinch as his words land. Soonyoung doesn’t wait for you to gather yourself, spinning on his heel and exiting the powder room to stride through the halls. Tightness gathers in your chest, left over from your anxiety attack.

Pressing your hands against your dress to wipe the sweat from them, you chase after Soonyoung. He’s already by the apartment’s elevator, jamming his finger into the button. He doesn’t look at you as he waits, content to stare at the metal door.

You don’t know where else to look - you want to look anywhere but him. Turning around, you fixate on the floor to ceiling windows. It’s still morning outside, but it’s hard to tell with the way the clouds block out the view, turning everything to mist.

This high up in the city is reserved for the elite. You can’t imagine why - there’s nothing to look at but clouds, clouds, and more clouds. It’s what makes them have virtual reality rooms in the first place, trying to recreate the experience that they might have if they were wealthy enough to own land.

The sound of the elevator arriving makes you flinch. Soonyoung ignores you, getting in and leaning against the wall as he hits a button to go to the parking garage. You scramble in after him, a little breathless as the doors close just behind you.

Immediately you start shooting down several floors. He glares at the wall, unseeing and unfeeling. You swallow thickly, watching the numbers decrease until you’re at Lin’s private parking garage. Soonyoung is out of the elevator before it finishes opening all the way, storming toward the car he’s left running idle.

Normally someone would open a car door for you. Instead, Soonyoung gets in the driver’s seat and slams the door shut. You reach for the handle of the passenger seat and pause. Normally you sit in the back when being driven somewhere, it’s always been like that. But this is Soonyoung and you’ve always been beside him in the car, his equal.

A muffled get in the fucking car reaches you. Deciding that sitting next to him is too personal, you open the back seat and slide in. You’ve barely shut the door when he punches the gas, slamming you into the back of the seat as he goes.

“Would you stop being an asshole?” you seethe, ripping the seatbelt from next to you to buckle in. Your hands are still shaking and it takes a moment for the clasp to click.

Instead of answering, you hear the way the car accelerates under his foot. Scowling, you look out the window. He speeds into the lift that brings the car down to the ground floor. Lights blur by as the lift drops at lurching speed, your stomach in your throat. You hate coming to apartments for this reason, the feeling of having to freefall to leave never growing on you.

It’s raining when the lift opens to the wet street. Soonyoung peels out on the pavement, tires spinning until they gain traction and the car slides onto the road, narrowly missing someone. You slam against the seatbelt, cursing and clinging onto the door as he pushes the gas down, engine roaring.

“Are you trying to kill us?”

Soonyoung doesn’t answer you. You think it might be because he’s not explicitly trying to kill the two of you, but he doesn’t care if he does. You try not to think about it so much as he powers through the streets of the Upper City, driving past towering businesses, luxury districts with entertainment and bars and apartment buildings.

The road starts to incline and you hit a line of trees. The city vanishes behind you as Soonyoung drives the car up the winding road, leaving a world of metal and lights for greenery and earth. The contrast between the cities below and the Estates above is stark, especially as he drive’s higher up the mountain, snatches of the city below visible.

“Why did you come to get me?” you ask, flicking your gaze to the rearview mirror to watch him. Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the road, but you see his mouth tighten. “Last I checked you’re not an errand boy.”

“So what, you check on me?”

“It’s a figure of speech, you know what I mean.”

“The Tower personally requested I come get you.”

That gives you pause. Soonyoung’s face reveals nothing as he turns on the street that will inevitably lead to the massive metal wall that blocks off the world from the Choi Estate. There can only be a single reason why Soonyoung was sent to fetch you when usually your husband’s staff would do so.

“What’s happened?”

Soonyoung doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he rolls the window down at the guard house to show his face. The security team recognizes him immediately, waving him through as the gate begins to slide open to reveal lush, green jungle.

Gravel crunches underneath the car tires as he drives through the winding foliage on Choi grounds. Your great-great-grandfather had built the Choi compound, the first of the few elite houses on the mountain. He thought it was important to keep the plant life and sprawling greenery to conserve, but you knew it was really about power. Symbolism. Greenery didn’t really exist in the city, and this much space and plantlife meant wealth.

The sprawling estate you grew up in reveals itself. Multiple buildings dot the property, making it more a family compound than an estate. Now that Seungcheol is old enough, he’s moved out of the main house and into one of the smaller homes, occupying the space with his own men and staff. Still, he’s just a brief stroll away from your childhood home.

Home. Even two years under a Kim family banner hasn’t erased the feeling of home for you. There is nothing in the house you share with Yijun that makes it feel like you. It is as devoid of love as your marriage, merely a placeholder for you to sleep, eat, and occasionally, try to produce an heir.

Soonyoung pulls up to the long building that serves as a garage, hitting a button on the car’s screen to open one of the bays. He pulls in slowly, the outside world fading as the garage door shuts behind the car, dousing it in darkness until the neon lights above flicker on.

Without a word, he powers off the vehicle and gets out. Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders and get out of the car. He doesn’t wait for you - even shuts the door as he enters the main house so you’re forced to lug it open.

He’s already opening the door to the main house a few yards away, forcing you again to haphazardly navigate gravel in your heels as you give chase. You’re sweating and irritated by the time you’re up the steps and pushing through the front door, a nasty quip on your lips ready until you see your aunt coming down the stairs.

“Oh thank goodness,” she says, seeing you. She looks older than you remember, the lines of her face deep and the hair at her temples gray. “Come along.”

“What’s going on?” you ask, uncertain as you step into the foyer and let her take your arm.

She scowls. “Did that useless boy not tell you? Your mother suffered a heart attack this morning. She’s with Dr. Ymir in the medical wing.”

Your heart thuds to a stop as you wheel around to look over your shoulder at Soonyoung. His gaze is stormy but his face gives away nothing as he turns to leave the way he came, slamming the front door and vanishing down the steps to leave you alone.

“No,” you mumble as your aunt pulls you down the hall. “He didn’t tell me.”

Because that’s how much Soonyoung hates you. Hate isn’t even the right word, you think. It is something far deeper and far more sinister, fueled only by taking away something that he valued more than anything else in the world and forcing him to live with it.

I deserve this, you think as the door to one of the private medical rooms opens, a clinical smell hitting you in the face. I deserve everything that happens to me.

I deserve this. It’s all you can think of as you watch the black casket lower into the ground. Seungcheol stands beside you, his hands linked in front of him. You want to reach out and take his hand in yours, but you don’t want him to look weak. Don’t want others to see him crack like you know he will if you comfort him.

Instead, you comfort yourself as best you can, which isn’t saying much. You’ve never been good at dealing with your feelings, too much of your mother’s blood running through you. It was your father’s least favorite trait of yours and perhaps Soonyoung’s favorite.

Soonyoung, who has always been your emotional tether and outlet. You’re not accustomed to dealing with grief alone, and the pull of it feels like an undertow threatening to drag you under and drown you.

Someone shifts behind you, close enough that you feel Yijun next to you stiffen. You turn to look over your shoulder, blinking in surprise as you tilt your head up to see Soonyoung. He doesn’t look at you, dark eyes fixed forward and jaw flexing tightly. He’s standing closer than is necessary, as shown by your husband’s scoff.

Soonyoung doesn’t move, though. He remains nearly pressed against your back, so close that you can smell vanilla and sandalwood. Turning away from him, you feel your shoulders relax. He ignores you, but he’s there, a stoic guardian that’s just out of reach.

The Tower of the Choi Syndicate is too lost in his grief to notice or care about Soonyoung’s proximity to you. Your brother couldn’t care less, barely realizing that his brother by choice is an inch away from him. But you know Soonyoung is there and that’s all that matters.

The grief lessens, turning back from churning waters to gentle, lapping waves.

“Your brother doesn’t respect me,” Yijun asserts. You look at him in the bathroom mirror. He’s standing behind you in the closet, taking out glinting cufflinks to replace them in the countertop in the middle of the aisles of clothes. “You should work on that.”

“Seungcheol hardly takes what I say to heart.”

Yijun snorts, detecting the lie before you can even get it out. Seungcheol very much values your insight and opinion far more than he’s interested in Yijun’s. He’s made it clear at multiple parties and events now, often asking you how business is and how the shared Kim-Choi accounts are doing, despite not having anything to do with them.

Seungcheol hates your role within the Kim family. On more than one occasion he’s recommended Yijun make use of you somewhere in the family business, to make you the head of operation somewhere so that your schooling and experience weren’t going to waste. Yijun asserted that your social skills were being put to perfect use, entertaining the wives of his associates and serving as the perfect host when his business colleagues and friends were over.

“He’s going to be leading the family soon,” Yijun sighs. “It would be better for us if he saw me as a real ally.”

“He does see you as an ally. You’re married to his sister.”

“Exactly, so you should remind him that I’m family.” It doesn’t sound like a threat, but it also doesn’t sound like a request. Sighing, you shut the drawer in the counter forcefully. It draws his attention, gaze darkening. “Don’t you want your brother to respect your husband?”

No, you think. You don’t respect your husband, so why should Seungcheol?

Instead, you sigh. “Of course, Yi.” He doesn’t soften at the nickname. “I’ll talk to him, alright? He’s got a lot going on. And don’t talk about my father’s health that way.”

“I didn’t say anything about his health.”

“Please,” you snort. “I know what you meant about Cheol taking over soon.”

Yijun had been talking about Seungcheol more and more. You’ve watched with a sour taste in your mouth as your husband tries to earn your brother’s attention and trust, flashing what he thinks Seungcheol cares about in his face, telling him about the new car he acquired, or the historical art piece you purchased at an auction, and the new apartment building he’s constructing.

Seungcheol doesn’t give a fuck about any of that. The Choi family never has. Your ancestors didn’t make a name for themselves and carve it on the mountain they built their home on by showing off their wealth and what it could do for them. They did it by earning it, and by remaining steadfast and intelligent. Political.

Yijun understands none of that. As the eldest son of his family, it’s a shame. The real world of the Syndicates is lost on him. He has enough business acumen to run companies under his father’s careful tutelage and instruction, but he doesn’t have the social savvy for it, the right drive.

His brother does. You think of Kim Minchan and nearly shiver. The middle child of the Kim family has more than enough understanding of the way that things work, but the ocean of blood behind him is enough for you to prefer Yijun leading the Kim Syndicate any day.

“I’m just saying,” Yijun grunts, flicking off the lights in the closet. “Your brother has all the reason in the world to respect me and he doesn’t.” He looks at you, face hardening. “Do you tell him not to? Is that what it is? His baby sister tells him how useless her husband is?”

Danger is in the air. Yijun won’t lay a hand on you, but it doesn’t make this dance any less stressful. You turn away from the mirror, looking at him fully. He’s not terrible to look at - he has a sharp jaw and a broad nose and a pleasant shaped mouth. He’s handsome, even.

He’s not Kwon Soonyoung.

Swallowing away the thought, you reach up to put your hands on his chest, placating. “I wouldn’t do that,” you assure him, softening your voice. You hate the sound of your voice, hate the way you pitch it low and gentle. “You’re a reflection of me too. I would never let my brother think any of those things about my husband.”

Yijun swats your hands away, making you grit your teeth. “Don’t act like a whore. Just - tell your brother. I should be in his inner circle by now. Make it happen.”

As Yijun leaves the bathroom, the urge to grab him by his collar and yank him back in to smash his head on the counter almost wins. You stare at him until he vanishes in the bedroom, your rage a live, sentient thing. You feel it crawl beneath your skin, slithering and clawing and biting and begging to be let out.

Steady is the mountain. You take that fire and shove it down. Years of instinct of reacting with your mother’s temper peter out slowly. It’s a shame - you’re the last woman left from her side of the family, the only one who can carry the fire of the phoenix.

You glare at the bedroom. Somewhere, Yijun lurks, getting into bed. Oh how the shadows of the weak choke out the fire of the strong.

If killing Yijun wouldn’t risk everything, you’d have done it already. That first month spent with him where you realized this would not only be a loveless marriage, but a hateful one had almost driven you to it. The Choi Syndicate could surely survive a war with the Kim Syndicate - you had better assets, stronger loyalties, and more money.

But if the Kim family turned to the Yong family…

Avoiding unification of the Kim and Yong families is why you were married to Kim Yijun in the first place. To murder him now would mean Syndicate war, and despite the fact that every moment with him is hateful and poisonous, you’re too nervous to put your family at risk.

Especially with your father’s failing health, as Yijun had pointed out.

Syndicate war isn’t the only thing keeping you from stabbing Kim Yijun until you can’t feel anything anymore. Minchan’s shadow of a presence lingers over your thoughts, one of the few threats you truly fear. Any harm to his brother would elevate Minchan to a position where he could only wield his power more.

And he’d hunt you like a bloodhound. You’re unsure if there is any corner of the world he would leave unturned if you killed his brother, no matter how much it would benefit him if Yijun keeled over tomorrow.

Inside your bedroom is dark. It doesn’t feel like your bedroom at all. There’s nothing homey about it, no possession or unique decor, no pictures. You wouldn’t sleep in here at all if Yijun didn’t make you, insisting that he couldn’t trust any of the house staff not to tell your father you weren’t sleeping in the same room.

Your father doesn’t care. He stopped caring about anything the day you put your mother into the dirt. Even if he hadn’t, as long as your relationship looked functional to whom it mattered, it mattered little to him if you slept in the same room or if you even liked Kim Yijun.

He’d made that very clear the day he tore away your future with Soonyoung.

Yijun is already snoring when you climb into bed. You grind your teeth, reaching to pull open the nightstand for noise cancelling earbuds and sleep medication. The medication isn’t as strong as the crushed up knockout you might have used previously, but it helps take the edge off without making you vulnerable to attack.

Which is something you still worry about.

Setting your phone on silent, you settle in for sleep. It takes a long time, but you finally drift away to thinking about smothering the man next to you in his sleep.

Something wakes you. Blinking sleep from your eyes, you sit up in bed and look around the room. It’s dark, but you can see the barely-there outlines of the furniture in your bedroom. Next to you, Yijun is gone. You can feel the lack of presence there more than you can see it, reaching your hand over to confirm the bed is cold and that he’s not been there for a while.

You reach for the phone on your nightstand but can’t find it. Frowning, you press your hand on the cool marble, sweeping back and forth to no avail. You lean further, finger finding the button to the light function on the stand and press down.

Dim, lavender light halos the top of the nightstand. Your phone is nowhere in sight. It’s just your jewelry dish, a decanter for water, and your sleep medication. You’re pretty sure that you put your phone face down before you went to bed, but you can’t be sure.

Pulling open the nightstand drawer only makes the back of your neck sweat. Your phone isn’t there, but neither is the gun you keep in the top drawer. Both you and Yijun sleep armed, despite having armed guards on the premises at all times.

Snapping the drawer shut, you roll to the other side of the bed and pull his open. A book, a watch, some pill bottles and a pack of cigarettes fill the drawer. No gun.

The back of your neck tingles. You rip the sheets off of you, heading to the bedroom door. The house is mostly dark when you open it, the entire second floor dim. Leaning over the banister, you can see a shaft of light falling across the room, perhaps coming from the kitchen.

Quietly, you stalk toward the top of the stairwell, trying to reduce noise as you creep down. A high pitched whine rings in your ears, heart thundering. You have no idea why you’re so afraid all of the sudden, especially in your own house, but your instincts tell you to be alert and quiet.

At the foot of the stairs, you confirm the light is coming from the kitchen. It’s not uncommon for people to be in the house in the middle of the night. Official Syndicate business happens at any time, and often goes into the early hours of morning.

Tonight, it’s not busy. Before you’d gone upstairs to bed, you’d noted that it was a skeleton crew security team for the night, just a few of them at the gate house and walking the premises while you and Yijun returned upstairs for the evening alone.

Creeping toward the hallway, you pause when you hear voices. You identify Yijun’s voice right away, holding your breath and straining your hearing as he says, “What do you want me to do here?”

“Keep her contained. Make sure no one from her family can reach her.”

“I already took her phone and her gun.”

Your stomach drops. “Good.” That’s Minchan’s voice, you realize, dread growing tenfold. “The second she finds out the Tower has fallen, she’ll try to run or her brother will try to get her.”

“Or that psycho fuck,” Yijun mutters.

“You’d be lucky if it was Seungcheol who came to get her. If Kwon Soonyoung comes looking, call me immediately. We’ll make our move in two hours. We’ve got the biggest team outside the Choi estate ready to go in and we’ve got men and women stationed at all the key points.”

“So I’m just supposed to sit here and babysit my wife?”

“Yes.” Minchan’s tone is nonnegotiable. “We’ll leave the guards at the gatehouse but we can’t spare anyone else. This kind of assault requires everyone. The Yong family will take care of the Pearl District and the Salt.”

Yijun hesitates. “What about the Yoon family? Are they all accounted for?”

“Yes. I have a team on the crazy one - what do they call her?”

“Angel, I think.”

Minchan laughs. “Demon is more fitting. Stay here. Stay by your phone. We’ll call thirty minutes before we give the signal to link everyone on comms. We do this right, and the Choi Syndicate is gone.”

Panic presses in for a moment. Your heart hammers. Your hands shake. Bile churns your stomach. It feels like you can’t get enough air, the pieces of what they're talking about falling into place.

The Tower has fallen.

Your father is dead, and in the wake of the crushing blow, the Kim family intends to strike at yours alongside the Yong family. The realization lands like a blow, immediately slapping you out of your panic.

Fear turns to rage. Rage turns to ice. You are fire, you are the mountain.

Steadfast is the mountain, but the fire does burn.

As quietly as you can, you creep up the stairs. You keep turning over your shoulder to ensure Minchan doesn’t leave the kitchen and catch you creeping back toward your bedroom. When you hit the second floor landing, you all but sprint to your room, gears turning.

Yijun took your phone and intends to keep you locked in the house until they finish their plan. From their discussion, you know they intend to mobilize within two hours, targeting important members of the Choi Syndicate across the city with the help of the Yong family.

It means you have only a few minutes to warn your family to respond, to prepare and to fight back or strike first. Which is hard to do without a phone, but your husband doesn’t know you nearly as well as he thinks.

Door closed behind you, you flip the lock on the bedroom door and dash for the closet. The lights above come to life, bathing you in ghoulish, grey light. You dive to the floor toward your shelf holding all of your shoes, the carpet burns nothing compared to the pain starting to bloom behind your sternum where your grief builds slowly under your anger.

Your father is dead. The Kims are going to turn on you anyway. Your marriage to Kim Yijun to secure alliances against the Yong family was for nothing.

You’ve endured for nothing.

Snatching a pair of boots, you swallow down the bile again. You will not break now, not when there are more important things than the time you’ve wasted withering away in this cold home. Shoving your hand inside the boot, you come into contact with what you were looking for. Your hand closes around the device, yanking it out and powering it on.

The screen flashes to life. You press one and hold, hearing the buzz on the phone as it begins to ring. You cradle the phone against your shoulder and ear, nearly sick with the adrenaline that is pounding through you, your vision blurring, hands shaking.

You grab another shoe, this time reaching inside carefully instead of shoving your hand in. The smooth, bone handle of a knife meets your hand and you wrap your fingers around it firmly, pulling it out.

Soonyoung answers on the fourth ring. “Where are you?”

“The Kim family has turned on the Chois. They’re mobilizing for a full scale attack in roughly two hours. The Yong family is helping them. They’re at the estate and all over the city - anyone who is important to us regardless of position will need to be warned. The Yong family is handling the Pearl District and the Salt.”

“How many men are at Yijun’s estate?” You can hear him moving on the other side of the line, something rustling. Perhaps clothes as he gets dressed. “Are you armed?”

“There are men at the guard house and one walking the perimeter. It’s just me and Yijun inside, I think Minchan is leaving. I’ve got a knife.”

“Where are you in the house?”

“Bedroom, second landing to the right and all the way at the end of the hall. There are windows but they don’t open.”

“Listen to me,” Soonyoung says, voice like ice. “The second we start moving into position to accept the assault, they’ll know something is off. When that happens, Yijun is going to try to kill you, do you understand?” When you say nothing, he asks again, voice louder. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“I need you to fight back. Either kill him or hold him off until I’m there.”

“You need to warn-”

“Don’t worry about the fucking Syndicate! We’ll be fine. You’ve given us more than enough time. I need you to be entirely focused on yourself.”

You take a deep breath, letting it out shakily. “Okay.”

“Do you have frostbyte?”

“Maybe? Yijun might have it in the nightstand.”

“Take some. Not enough to fuck you up, but enough to pump that adrenaline and make your head clear. I will be there in thirty minutes.”

“Okay.”

You squeeze the phone, unwilling to hang up. It doesn’t matter that you haven’t heard his voice in months. It doesn’t matter that he hates you, it doesn’t matter that you know whatever used to be between you is broken and it’s entirely your fault. You just… don’t want to hang up.

“Hey.” Soonyoung’s voice is soft, drawing you from your trembling spiral. “Do what I said. Do the frostbyte and kill him if you have to. I have to go.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you in thirty minutes.” Soonyoung pauses, the silence heavy on the line. “I love you.”

Nothing breaks you like those words, whispered but firm, whispered in case you die before he gets there. He doesn’t have to say that’s why he’s saying it - you know. You know the chance of him not getting there fast enough is likely and real. He does too, but instead of telling you, he gives you this.

You whisper back, “I love you.”

Soonyoung hangs up the phone and you fight a sob. You bring the knife up to your hand, pressing your pointer finger down on the tip. The sting is immediate, making you his in pain as blood beads on the tip of your finger, red and garish in the closet lighting.

The sting grounds you enough to push yourself from the floor, following Soonyoung’s directions to Yijun’s nightstand. You yank it open, rattling around the contents until you find the bag of frostbyte you were hoping was there. Yijun uses it the nights he attempts to put an heir in you, numbing himself the way you never did, taking your punishment for what you’d done to Soonyoung raw.

Not enough to fuck me up, you think, untwisting the bag and shaking. Just enough to make it easier.

Dipping the tip of your knife into the bag, you pull out a small lump of the glittering drug. You try not to think about that night at the club all those years ago, when you and Soonyoung were still dancing around one another’s feelings, doing anything you could to get a reaction out of one another.

You take a sharp breath in. The drug hits your nasal passage and it burns, your eyes smarting as you tilt your head up, cursing and blinking away the tears. It hits the back of your throat, bitter and awful as you cough a little, trying to wait for it to clear your nasal passage.

When the burning subsides a little, you do it again. It’s less harsh than the first bump but still just as awful, making you wonder how the fuck you did this on the weekend with your friends as a teenager. Tossing the back on the nightstand, you stand waiting, closing your eyes and trying to do deep breathing exercises your therapist taught you to calm down.

Frostbyte works fast. It hits your bloodstream and an electric calm comes over you. Everything comes into sharper focus, the adrenaline pumping as your simmering rage turns to a boil, ready to kick the fucking door down and hunt down Yijun yourself.

Nerves fade away to the background of your mind. You walk toward the door, waiting to the side so when Yijun ultimately kicks it down, you’re ready.

Ten minutes pass. The entire time your ears are ringing, heart thundering in your chest. You think the frostbyte was a good idea - if you had to wait in silence like this without it, you would have gone crazy by now. Even with the drug, fear nips at your ankles, a hound ever on your tail.

Yijun’s footsteps thunder up the stairs. Your heart lurches and you inch away from the door, readying yourself. He storms down the hall, fury in each step until he gets to the door and turns the handle. It doesn’t move. He tries a few more times, shaking the door.

His roar on the other side of the door is loud and feral, making you grin as he thrashes against the door, cursing and screaming at you. The door holds, rattling in place as he slams what you think is his shoulder into it multiple times.

The bombardment pauses for a second and then restarts ten times stronger. This time, you recognize that it’s his foot slamming into the side of the door. You realize he’s kicking where the door is latched, trying to break it open instead of kicking through it.

A small crack sounds. You take a breath, readying yourself as you hear another snap go through the door, now rattling loose in its frame. He kicks hard again and the door blows open, nearly smacking you as it does. You roll away from it on the wall, keeping close as Yijun barrels past you, swinging his head from left to right as he looks for you.

It’s your only chance to get the jump on him. You slide from the dark, heart hammering. You’ve never stabbed anyone before, but you’ve practiced. You drive the knife upward, intending to puncture his kidneys. Yijun twists a little to the side, sensing your presence as the knife plunges into his side.

Yijun screams. Your satisfaction only lasts a second before he throws his elbow backward, catching you in the nose. Pain explodes in your face, blinding you as your eyes water and you stumble backward hands shooting to your face.

Removing the knife from his side, Yijun screams at you, spit flying as he comes at you. Through tears and warm blood rushing from your nose, you reach for anything to use as a weapon. Your hand closes on the ceramic artwork on the dresser and you launch it at him, hitting him hard in the face.

The ceramic shatters and he drops the knife. You dive for it but he grabs you by the hair, ripping you upward and backward like a ragdoll. You lose your footing, screaming as he tightens his fist in your hair and drags you toward the bed, tossing you there.

With a feral shout, you kick your foot forward, catching him in the lower gut. He grunts but wraps his hand around your ankle, yanking you back off the bed onto the floor, where the knife lays. You reach for it, seething, your hands managing to close around it just as he pivots, foot landing against your ribcage.

Again, pain explodes inside of you. With the frostbyte, you barely recognize it, grabbing the knife and stabbing him in the calf. He shrieks and collapses to a knee, reaching for the knife. This time you rip it back out, nearly losing your grip on the bone handle, fingers slippery with blood.

You stab him again, this time in the thigh. His knee presses into your stomach, crushing you and forcing air from your lungs. You ignore the pain, stabbing him again and again in the thigh until he falls backward off of you, muscles malfunctioning, tendons give away.

Yijun kicks out at you with his good leg but you’re already moving, ignoring the way your body is screaming in utter agony, every part of you throbbing and begging you to give up.

You don’t. You scramble on top of him. His hands shoot up to your throat but you spit at him, a spray of blood blinding him and making his grip loosen momentarily. It’s enough to bring the knife down home again, this time directly in the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

For a second, he fights back. You hear the wet gasp and he thrashes, but you stab him again. And again and again and again and again -

You think about all of the times that you were forced to submit to him.

And again and again and again -

The way he heaved himself on top of you, trying to force a child into you so he could be done with you, the way you’d wish it had been Soonyoung instead.

And again and again and again -

The way Soonyoung’s face broke that morning, begging you not to do this to him.

And again and again and again -

All for the Kim family to turn on the Choi’s anyway, wasting the entire time you’ve spent under lock and key, doing Yijun’s bidding while Soonyoung hated you. Loathed you. Wish you never happened to him.

Again and AGAINANDAGAINANDAGAINAND-

Yijun isn’t moving under you. Your hand is warm and wet, the knife becoming slippery as you let it go. It clatters to the floor and you sit backward on his knees. He’s unmoving as you heave, sucking down air that tastes like iron and salt.

Sweat slicks the back of your neck and down your spine. Somewhere in the house, there’s a crashing noise. You leap for the knife, rolling off of Yijun’s mutilated body toward the door, positioning yourself in a defensive position as feet thunder up the stairs.

You bare your teeth, knowing this is it. Knowing Soonyoung hasn’t come quickly enough but it doesn’t matter, because you warned them and they are safe. Your penance for destroying him has been paid in half, though never full, and -

Soonyoung appears in the doorway. He looks like an angel from hell, wreathed in shallow light that comes from the first floor, his silver hair stained with blood. He’s in black trousers and a short-sleeve shirt with his favorite band on it - one of his sleep shirts.

For less than a second, he stares at you. Then, Soonyoung dives at you, dropping the gun in his head and grabbing you. You hadn’t realized that you’d sunk to your knees, looking up at him as he grabs your face, turning you this way and that. He’s asking you a question but you can’t understand him, dizzy and confused and in so much pain that the edge of your vision wavers.

“Baby,” Soonyoung begs, his voice warped and echoey. “Hey, I need you to answer me. Where are you bleeding?”

“S’mostly his,” you answer, feeling how heavy your tongue is. Your thoughts are sticky and slow. Concussed, you think. “Maybe broke my nose.”

Soonyoung’s thumb brushes gently across your cheek, smearing blood. “Can you walk if I help you?” You think about it. Shake your head. “Okay. I’m going to lift you up, alright? Tell me where it hurts so I don’t hurt you, Baby.”

“Ribs.”

“Left or right?”

You pause, breathing in and feeling the pain bloom. “Right.”

“Okay, tell me if I hurt you, okay? We’re going to take you home.”

“Thank you.” Soonyoung hesitates at your tone, looking at you. His eyes are vulnerable and open, more raw than you have seen them since you were kids. “You didn’t have to come get me.”

He stares and stares at you. The world fades a little and Soonyoung lifts you toward him. “Of course I did,” he murmurs, so soft you barely hear what he’s saying. “When you say jump, remember?”

“Where's this?” You mumble, looking out the window at a small home behind high gates.

Soonyoung has been driving for an hour and a half, his silence nearly unbearable as you both left the city. You don’t ask about where you’re going or if everyone is okay - you don’t think you can stomach the answers right now. Not while in the car.

Rain mists through the window as Soonyoung rolls it down to punch in a code in front of the gate. It flashes green and the metal starts to roll open, revealing a large but modest house - at least by Syndicate standards. He drives through, gravel crunching beneath the tires.

“Safe House. Very few people know it exists.”

“Are we in Levin?” He nods his head. You’ve never been to the small town, but you know it’s mostly a vacation village on the coast. “Who does this place belong to?”

“Me.” You look at him, surprised. “I bought it when you… got engaged.”

It’s like a stone sinking to the bottom of your stomach. You don’t have to ask why. It was his failsafe for you, a way to get you away from Yijun if you had just asked.

You should have asked. Should have just thrown it away and called him, should have begged him from your knees-

Soonyoung turns the car off and opens the door. You open yours, rain pattering against your red skin. He rushes to help you out of the car, hands hovering around you, unsure where to touch. It makes you want to sob. You want him to touch you anywhere - everywhere.

Instead, he leads you to the house, a hand wrapped firmly around your forearm to keep you upright and steady as you walk up the steps.

A porch light flickers on. You cringe away from the brightness, squinting through your fingers as the door opens to reveal Vernon standing on the other side. His eyes flicker between the two of you and he nods, stepping to the side to let you in.

Warmth blankets you as Soonyoung shuts the door. You’re standing in a small entryway with a staircase to the right leading to the second floor. Straight on, the lights are on, revealing a sliver of the living room. You can hear voices pause as they hear the door shut.

Angel materializes in the doorway, her hair damp. She’s dressed down like she recently showered, her eyes on you as she heaves a sigh of relief. “It’s Hoshi and Baby,” she calls over her shoulder, coming forward.

Soonyoung nudges you toward Angel gently. “Take her to shower.”

“Yeah of course.”

“Where’s Seungcheol?” You ask, turning to look at Soonyoung, who is already looking at his phone, holoscreen lighting up his face.

“On his way. The main crew is safe.” He hesitates. “We lost Lan, Old Man Vero and Yoon Minji.”

Your heart seizes, eyes darting to Angel. “Angel, I’m-”

“Jeonghan is taking care of it.” For the first time in years, you hear a note of pain in her voice, raw and real. Angel has - had - a complicated relationship with her step-mother, the matriarch of the Yoong family. “I’ve already satiated my vengeance. This is his. Come on.”

You hesitate. Soonyoung nudges you toward the stairs gently by the hip, suddenly looking tired. “Go. I’m going to find a doctor for that nose.”

“Is it terrible?”

He huffs, trying not to laugh. “No, but it needs to be fixed. Go. Shower.”

I love you. It’s on the tip of your tongue, right there. I love you. It’s all you can think about, thundering in your ribcage. I love you. It consumes you, makes you freeze up, staring at him. I love you.

Angel tugs your wrist delicately and breaks the spell. You follow her up the stairs. She’s careful with you, making you take one step at a time. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her so gentle, her eyes softened with worry and her touch on you delicate as butterfly wings.

Upstairs, she leads you into a room that smells like vanilla and sandalwood. Soonyoung. This room belongs to Soonyoung. You spot his subtle touches, a gaming computer shoved in the corner and powered off. A closet with a metal door that is under lock and key. A single gun sitting on top of the nightstand.

But what makes the room spin is the touches of you. A teakwood candle sitting on the dresser. Weighted blankets folded at the end of the bed. A bookshelf with all your favorite titles. A jar of saltwater taffy in multiple flavors.

Angel hesitates by the bathroom door, watching you drink in the room. You turn to her, shaking your head, confused and mouth open. She nods. “I know. I didn’t know either.”

“I could live and die a thousand times and never deserve him.”

“I’m not the best judge of character, but I don’t think I believe that to be true.”

Angel isn’t the best judge of character. But she also doesn’t say things she does not mean. She’s the last person in the world to offer words of comfort, and yet she’s standing in the bathroom staring at you like she can see through you, right down to the very core.

Maybe she can. Seeing what is rotting people on the inside and sniffing out their weaknesses is what she does best.

Instead of pointing out where you hurt, she manages to get you into the bathroom. It’s spacious but not grand like what you’re used to - it’s small. Safe. She starts the shower and backs away, helping you get out of your bloody clothing.

Everything hurts so bad. Your ribs ache, the bruising on them blotchy and horrendous as Angel peels back your shirt. She thankfully doesn’t react - she’s seen worse and done worse. Suddenly, you realize why Soonyoung picked her to help you. She’s steady, her fingers sure as she holds your arm while you pull your pants down.

You don’t dare look in the mirror. From what you can see without it, it’s already bad enough. Yijun hadn’t dealt fatal damage, but you know you’re bruised and covered in dry, flaking blood.

Angel leaves you in the shower, shutting the door to go sit on the sink, a guardian willing to give you space but ready to help when you need it. Shaking, you shuffle into the stream of hot water, hissing when it hits your skin.

It’s both heaven and hell. The hot water feels so good on your aching muscles and throbbing pain, but it also hurts when the water taps against your nose, reminding you that it is indeed broken. You suck in sharp air as you slowly begin to work your fingers into your skin, turning the water pink as you wash off the blood.

Blood that belongs to you. Blood that belongs to Yijun.

Yijun.

You’re not sorry you killed him. It was satisfying and necessary. But… the weight of your grief comes crashing into you. You could have killed him years ago and ran. Could have gone crawling back to Soonyoung and asked for his help. Could have told him that the only reason you ever agreed to marry him in the first place was to protect him.

None of it mattered. You bought him a paltry couple years worth of protection and for what? To shackle yourself to a man who thought little of you, who wanted to fuck you until you gave him another version of himself, who wanted to kill you at every moment because he knew you didn’t respect him and because he was afraid of you and the way you command respect from your family, but he never did.

All that time you’d made yourself smaller for him. Held back your bite. Hid your teeth. Mourned Soonyoung everyday, knowing that you’d never touch him again, that he would never kiss you again, that you’d never wake up in the morning when he got home from work and crawled into bed with you.

A potential lifetime of happiness, one of your own making, wasted on a promise that they broke anyway.

For nothing. It had been for nothing, you’d hurt Soonyoung for nothing, shut him out, promised you would never leave him and threw him away, forced him to jump for you, forced him to leave you when he said he wouldn’t all for nothing nothing nothing nothing notHING NOTHINGNOTHINGNOTHINGNOTHING-

Angel’s arms are around you. You startle, looking up to see that she is in the shower fully clothed, holding you to her. You hadn’t realized you’d been crying - screaming - in the shower. She presses you closer to her, the only way she knows how to tell you that she’s got you. She’s there. She understands.

You crumble, leaning heavily on her as you let it out, sobbing. Your throat is raw, your face throbbing each time you squeeze your eyes shut. Angel says nothing, content to hold you while her clothes soak up the water, weighing her down as you let out your grief in full, ugly waves.

Eventually, the water starts to get cold and your tears start to dry up. You sniff and groan, the pain in your face so poignant that it can’t be ignored. Lifting your head from her shoulder, you glance at her boots, soaked and murky red around the edges.

“Can I tell you something?” Angel asks, voice low. You nod. She hesitates, putting the words together before she says, “He’s going to accept you back. He’s going to do it with no conditions, and ask nothing of you. You’re going to want to torture yourself and beg for his forgiveness and deny yourself of him because you think you should be punished, that there is not a god powerful enough to hurt you the way you deserve.”

You blink in surprise. Angel isn’t religious, despite the nickname. She also isn’t overly emotional or wordy. But you see the severity in which she tells you this, see the pain in her eyes. You remember that she has demons far older than yours, ones that have followed her since childhood.

And she’s right. She reads you like a book, seeing the fucking pain radiating inside of you, the desire to be punished and hated and whipped-

“Let him take you back.” Her words are firm. “Don’t make him punish you. Don’t believe for a second that Soonyoung wants to make you pay. He doesn’t. He doesn’t care what you did or why. Just… let him have you. You’ve endured enough.”

You nod. “Alright. I’ll try.”

“Good. Um - can we get out of the shower though? It’s very cold in here.”

You laugh, immediately followed by a groan. “Please don’t make me laugh. I am in so much pain.”

“Yeah, let’s go get you some drugs, dude.”

The three Syndicates of the city are officially at war. Of all the news that has poured in over the last few days, this is the least surprising. When you’d seen Seungcheol that first night after everything went to hell, he’d held you close and promised that he would kill every last Kim in the city.

He had also told you he was proud of you. Not just for surviving Yijun long enough for Soonyoung to come get you, but for being able to warn the family what was coming. Your single warning alone had saved them a great deal and wounded the Kim Syndicate more than you could understand.

The days following your father’s death are strange. It doesn’t feel like he’s dead - at least, you haven’t truly processed it yet. There are things that demand your attention like being seen by Dr. Ymir for your fractured nose and bruised ribs, and the accounts and logistics of what being at war with the Kim and Yong family truly means.

On the fifth day at the safe house, you go back home. Seungcheol makes you ride with him, unwilling to let you out of his sight these days. You’re the only two members of the Choi family left, and it’s up to the two of you to rally the troops and remind everyone what the mountain can do.

Seungcheol replaces your father as the Tower of the Choi Syndicate. Typically there’s a small ceremony to pass the torch so to speak, but there’s no time for that. Seungcheol is buried in problems and trying to maneuver the family into a favorable position, but it’s hard - the Yongs and Kims have been preparing this for a while.

You’re suddenly given a job again. Fresh in his position leading the family, Seungcheol needs those he trusts by his side, immediately appointing you as the Architect of the Syndicate. There’s no one he trusts more with the finances and the logistics of the businesses under the Choi banner and who have pledged to his family.

With Yoon Minji’s death, Jeonghan’s takes his rightful side as the Wisdom and second in command to Seungcheol. It’s like you’d always known it would be as a kid, but it brings you no joy to see the two of them together in an office until the early hours of the morning, worn at the edges and sick with the grief they’re ignoring to push forward.

With no surprise, Seungcheol immediately promotes Soonyoung to the lead military position, rising from Sword to Sentinel in a single night. It’s the same position his father held under your father, and Soonyoung takes it with steely resolve.

It also means you don’t see him. You move back into your old room at home. At first, it doesn’t feel like your room at all because Soonyoung isn't in it. He had moved into your room when you first started dating, spending two years in that bed with you. Now, he’s taken up residence in his room down the hall, so close and yet the distance feels larger than ever.

Of all the problems mounting for you to solve, Soonyoung is the most important. You know he shouldn’t be. There are a thousand other things that you need to figure out, like how to assure that the businesses you own in and near the Kim and Yong family territories won’t go under or be attacked, or how to assure that payment to the family won’t increase now that there’s a fight.

Your days are filled with countless meetings, assuring loyal patrons that the Choi Syndicate will not fall and will not fail them, and that the Choi’s protect their own. You can see the fear in people’s eyes - the city hasn’t had the big three at war in a long time. Already the city officials are cracking down on Syndicate activity to try and establish order.

It’s farcical at best.

Squeezing your temples between your fingers, you lean back from the desk in your newly appointed office - which is really just your father’s. It feels weird to be in here. It still smells like leather and sweet tobacco, a little bit of smoke hanging in the air.

The last time you’d been in this office, you’d fallen to your knees and begged him not to make you marry Kim Yijun. Now you sit at the desk, hanging up the phone as another call ends - not as bad as the first, but not as good as you’d hoped.

Quickly, you scribble down a summary of the call to give to Seungcheol. You know he’ll read every word you write, determined to hear each concern of those under Choi patronage, whether they’re valid or not.

At the sound of the door opening, you glance up. Soonyoung sticks his head in, surprising you. You straighten in your seat, heart racing when you take him in. His silver hair has grown longer, tapered a bit at the neck. He’s dressed in all black but he’s clean, indicating that he showered not that long ago. You thought he would be out all day like usual, looking at your watch to see he’s back far earlier than normal.

“Is everything alright?” You start to get up and he rushes to you, hands lifting to help you. “I’m alright. I am well on the mend.”

He chews his lip, nodding before dropping his hands hesitantly. “Everything’s fine I just.” He hesitates. “Do you want to eat lunch?”

“Oh. Sure.”

Soonyoung’s smile is tentative. Shy. You give him one back, following him out of the office while sending a quick note to Jihoon that you’ll meet with him later. He sends a thumbs down back, less than pleased that you’ve not made time to talk to him about your potential murder charges for Yijun.

“Are you busy? We don’t have to-”

“It’s just Jihoon.”

“Ah. He’s persistent, are you sure-”

“I want to have lunch with you, Soonyoung.”

He blushes and you grin. “Alright,” he murmurs. “When you say jump and all that.”

That makes you pause. “You don’t have to do anything I tell you.”

“What?” He stops walking, confused.

“You don’t have to ask how high if I tell you to jump... I’m wrong a lot of the time. I don’t… want to be that.”

I don’t want to repeat my mistakes. You don’t say it, but you think Soonyoung senses it when he says, “I’ve always wanted to jump for you. That hasn’t changed.”

Let him take you back. Don’t make him punish you.

Angel’s words come back to you so you swallow down your guilt and you nod, giving him a tentative smile that he returns. This time, he holds out his hand to take you in the kitchen. You take it, the feeling of his fingers wrapping around yours both foreign and familiar.

The way he holds your hand in his makes you tremble. It’s something so simple and benign and yet you’re screaming on the inside, looking at where your fingers twine together like it’s everything, like it’s the only thing.

Lunch consists of very badly burned grilled cheese. You don’t care because Soonyoung makes it, insistent that he wants to and that he can. He’s good at a lot of things, particularly on the spectrum of murder and weapons, but he is terrible at putting bread, cheese and butter in a pan.

You eat it anyway, burnt bread and all. He sits next to you, his stool pulled so close that your thighs touch. You want to reach out and brush your fingers across his face, down his neck, through his hair. You want to touch until you’re grabbing, grab until you’re pulling.

Instead, you let him lead this dance, too afraid to initiate.

Let him take you back. Don’t make him punish you.

You don’t, but you can’t let go of the fear of rejection. Can’t bring yourself to toe the line beyond what he’s giving you, which is more than you ever dreamed of. So you accept when he offers to take your plate, fingers brushing over the top of your hand either by design or by accident you don’t know. His touch makes you shiver and he notices, pausing.

Slowly, you look up at Soonyoung. His eyes are dark and misty as ever, churning with emotion that you’re a little too afraid to read. Instead of taking the plates to the sink, he sets them down and reaches for you, cradling your face in his hands.

A sob works its way up your throat but you force it down. You will not cry over this. You will not make him comfort you.

“Are you afraid to touch me?” His question is gentle. You nod, eyes fluttering shut as his thumb brushes back and forth across your cheekbone. “Why?”

“I… want to so badly. I just want it to be your choice.”

“I want you to.” You open your eyes. His earnestness is right on the surface of him, rippling for you to see. “I’m dying for it. Please.”

Soonyoung’s please sounds like that morning he’d begged you all that time ago. It freezes you in place, heart beating like a prey animal in fight or flight. He steps closer, his breath on your forehead when he whispers, “Please.”

Slowly, you bring your hands up to his wrists. Licking your lips, you place your hands on him. His eyes close. His skin is warm to the touch and you feel him tremble as you brush your hands upward, tracing his forearms, his corded biceps. You brush your fingertips over the sleeves of his shirt and toward his neck until you’re cupping his throat, your thumbs resting against his hammering pulse.

You close your eyes, remaining still. Both of you remain that way, his hands on your face, yours on his neck. You’re shaking under his touch, feel his breath against your forehead. His fingers add a little pressure to your face, careful not to hurt you where your bruise is finally fading on your nose as he turns you to look up at him.

Soonyoung licks his lips, eyes open. “There is not a second I didn’t love you.”

And there it is. The admission that he never hated you. You bet he tried - you know he tried. You know the inside of Soonyoung’s soul better than you know your own, no part of him hidden to you even with time.

“I don’t care why you did it,” he continues. “Not anymore. Not after everything. I don’t care about any of it. I just… want you.”

“Soonyoung-”

“I know you’re sorry. I know you hate yourself. I know there is guilt eating away at you. Get over it, because none of it changes how I feel. I love you. You’re mine. I don’t want to leave you again. You cannot make me.”

“I know. I won’t make you.”

“Good.” Soonyoung presses his forehead to yours gently. He’s careful not to knock noses with you too hard, aware of the pain it’ll cause. “I cannot do any of this without you.”

“I know.”

Soonyoung’s mouth is tentative when it presses against yours. Your grip on him tightens, leaning forward into the kiss. It is everything - the only thing. You feel something wet on your face, thinking that you’ve got another nosebleed, but when you pull away, you realize it’s because Soonyoung is crying.

Crying for the first time since his parents died.

You stand up from the stool, gripping the back of his neck to pull him toward you. He melts under your touch, letting you meld your mouths together. He tastes like his burnt sandwich and like him, his mouth warm and wet against yours. Vanilla and sandalwood invade your senses, overwhelming as you grip him for dear life, never wanting to let him go.

He doesn’t want to let you go either. His grip on your hips is crushing, fingers digging into flesh and bone as though he can force you to become one. The thought makes you dizzy. You slide your fingers in his silk-soft hair, wrapping the strands around them to pull lightly, pull him closer, pull him to you, pull him back.

Soonyoung whines against your mouth and you break the kiss, panting. “Take me upstairs,” you whisper between peppering kissing against his mouth, his bottom lip, the corner of his lips. “Please take me upstairs.”

He does. Soonyoung grabs you by the hands, tugging you toward the stairs that lead to your room - the room you used to share. The room that still smells like him, even if faintly. He takes you to your bed, where you’ve spent hundreds of nights with him, and lays you down gently like he has a million times before.

Soonyoung touches you like you’re holy. His hands skim over you in worship, they scratch you in penance, they hold you in reverence. He slots himself between your knees, stealing a kiss from you like it’ll breathe new life into him, bare him anew, purge him of sin.

You love him. You love him you love him you love him you love him you love him -

A moan leaves his mouth when your nails drag down his back. He is quaking under your touch, his mouth hungry but careful against yours, wanting to swallow you whole but knowing you’re hurt. You know he won’t break you but you wish he would.

There’s time for that later. Now isn’t the time for rough and biting. Now, Soonyoung peels the shirt from your skin, immediately covering your arms, chest, collarbones, shoulders in kisses. You vibrate under his touch, lashes fluttering as he sucks at the sensitive skin of your neck, tongue pressed flat to your pulse as he tastes you.

You tug at his shirt and he complies, leaning upward to toss it. He’s back on you in a second, pressing you close, hip to hip as he tangles his tongue with yours, drinking you in. His touch ignites a fire and you’re burning, a complete inferno as you drag your fingers up the hard contour of his stomach to the firmness of his chest and around to his shoulders.

“I love you,” he mutters against your mouth, rolling his hips into you. You let out a breathy sound and he groans. “Fuck I love you. I missed you. I love you.”

“Please,” you beg. He understands, burying his face in your neck and biting down lightly. You feel like you’re going to burn up under him, an out of control blaze while his fingers work the buttons on your pants. “Never let me go.”

“Never.”

Jeans scrape down your legs, his hands following. He drags his blunt nails down your thighs. Your hips twitch upward, loving the scratch, loving the way he touches you, loving him. He returns his mouth to yours, unable to get enough of your kissing.

Soonyoung’s hand slips between your thighs, the pads of his fingers pressing against your clit through your underwear. You keen for him, pulling at the long strands of hair at the back of his neck. He moans in tandem, his pleasure driven by yours, loving the way you sound as you start to come apart under the gentle circle of his fingers.

He only teases you a little, knowing the friction with the fabric between his fingers and your aching cunt isn’t enough. He finally decides that you’ve had enough, hooking a finger to pull them aside, the cool air hitting your sticky folds.

Before you can complain, Soonyoung’s touch is there. He drags his fingers slow-soft from top to bottom, circling your clit slowly. He’s not in a hurry, dragging it out as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, sliding his fingers back down to press against your entrance but not breach it.

You whine and he grins, pulling your bottom lip with his teeth until he lets go with a pop. “I love those sounds you make.”

“Feels good,” you admit, head falling to the side as you close your eyes, enjoying the pressure he puts on your clit, wiggling his fingers back and forth. Your thighs close around his hand but he’s unbothered, drawing more arousal from you as he plays. “Fuck, your fingers.”

His laugh is throaty and he shakes his head, attaching his mouth to your jaw where he sucks at the skin. He makes himself comfortable with nibbling toward your neck, both of his hands reaching for the sides of your underwear to pull them down. You let him, folding your knees toward your for a moment to help.

Soonyoung’s hand returns to the wetness between your legs except this time, he’s not teasing. He presses a finger in deep and you whine, hips wiggling. You squeeze down on his finger, pussy spasming as he begins to pump leisurely, like he has all the time in the world.

And he does, doesn’t he? The work is far from done and the world is falling apart, but it doesn’t matter because he’s here with you. Because Soonyoung is yours again - always has been - and because he’s drawing your mouth toward his to kiss you messily, swallowing down your moans as he presses in another finger.

Now you crumble beneath him. You can’t stop your hips from coming off the bed. You loop your arms around his neck, keeping him close, breathing the same air. He presses his forehead to yours, eyes impossible dark and half-lidded as he hooks his fingers, dragging them against that sensitive spot.

You cry out his name and he grins. Now he knows where it is, pressing repeatedly as he fucks you on his fingers, driving you directly toward an orgasm. Your breathing becomes labored, your legs squeezing his hips, your fingers digging into his shoulders. It is so good that you think you might die, letting him yank you toward release.

Soonyoung kisses you again and you come crashing down, cumming around his fingers, body squeezing, ignoring the ache in your ribs and the millions of other places that you’re sore. He doesn’t slow down, scissoring his fingers to pry you open, to stretch you more.

“Soonyoung,” you gasp, voice wrecked. “Soonyoung Soonyoung Soonyoung.”

“Just like that,” he agrees. You can tell he loves the way you say his name, knows that on your tongue it means something different. “Come on, one more.”

You’ll give him anything he wants. Never again will you deny him. You let him work you up again, feeling the way your breath gets stuck in your lungs and you shiver, another wave washing through you as you shudder around his fingers.

When you start to pant, he pulls his fingers out. You feel the wet schlick as he does, immediately hating the way you feel empty, hating the way he leans away from you. Whining, you reach out toward him, needy. He hushes you with a brief kiss, only standing to rid himself of his jeans and briefs.

Using the fingers covered in your arousal, Soonyoung pumps his cock, smearing a mixture of your slick and his precum down his shaft as he kneels on the bed again, taking his place between your thighs again. You watch with hooded eyes as he rubs the head of his cock through your messy folds, a moan dripping from your lips.

Soonyoung is beautiful, skin flushed and a sheen of sweat on his arms. His stomach flexes and clenches as he presses the tip of his cock into your entrance, both of you taking a shaky breath together. He slowly slides home, the stretch of him driving you wild, pussy fluttering around him until he’s slotted to the hilt.

He hangs his head, panting as he plants his hands on either side of your head. He takes a moment to collect himself, shaking. You turn your head to the side, kissing his wrist, peppering any skin you can reach with your love while your hands drift up his back, feeling the muscles flex.

When he begins to move, you nearly die. It feels so good, your breath lodged in your throat. He lowers his face to yours, kissing you as gently as he fucks you. His thrusts are deep and timed, not hard or fast but slow and measured, pressing all the way in as he uses his weight to his advantage.

Your fingers turn to talons on his back, nails biting his shoulder blades. He’s precise, the tip of his cock finding the right angle to make you nearly sob in a matter of a few thrusts. It’s familiar. Home.

Soonyoung lowers himself to his forearms, pressing your chests together. The friction of his skin against your pert nipples makes you squeeze around him, his name a whisper on swollen, kiss-bitten lips. He presses his forehead to yours, breathing shakily as he continues to fuck you.

You feel him everywhere, feel everything that he wants to say. Soonyoung has never needed words to communicate to you and he doesn’t now, the way he shakes as he lets out a wispy moan enough, the way he slides one of his arms under your back to cradle you to his chest, closer closer closer.

He wants to be closer and so do you, arms around his neck, drawing him to you. You never want to let him go, never will let him go. You’ve learned your lesson and this, right here with him is the only thing that matters.

“Shh,” he hushes. You realize you’re crying, tasting salt on your lips when he brushes his mouth against yours. “I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Soonyoung’s pace picks up only a little bit. It’s enough, sending you careening toward your third orgasm. He can feel it - needs it. He chases after your high, catching your mouth to brush his tongue against yours, rolling his hips until you’re clenching around him, whining into his mouth, lips buzzing against his.

He hums against you, waiting until your pussy lets go of its vice grip to speed up a little bit, the wet smack of his hips against yours loud and lewd, driving him forward until he comes, your name on his lips, his face buried in your neck. His thrusts slow, both of you trembling like leaves until he finally stops, remaining seated inside of you.

“I will love you for a thousand lifetimes,” he mutters against your mouth, with no intention of moving. “You know that, right Baby?”

You nod, fingers digging into his shoulder blades. “Leave me at your own peril, Kwon Soonyoung,” you rasp, quoting yourself that first night he finally caved, where he finally told you that he couldn’t exist without you. “I will never go anywhere ever again.”

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SYNDICATE ROLES

Tower - title for a Syndicate boss Wisdom - title for the second-in-command to a Sydnicate boss Architect - title for the main business affairs and political tactician Sentinel - title for the main military leader of a Syndicate Riots - title for a member of the Syndicate responsible for sowing discord Swords - title for a member of the Syndicate who is a fighter/military role Chariots - members of the Syndicate who make deals/act as business brokers Rooks - members of the Syndicate who collect debts/lead the extortion practices Justices - members of the Syndicate on the legal counsel Hanged Men - members of the Syndicate who betrayed their Syndicate Watchers - members of a Syndicate who are spies/informants Patrons - citizens who pay homage/have an alliance/are under the protection of a Syndicate Vanguard - official members of the Syndicate who don't have specific roles but do work for the Syndicate

#hoshi smut #soonyoung smut #kwon hosi smut #kwon soonyoung smut #hoshi angst #soonyoung angst #svt smut #hoshi x reader #hoshi x you #soonyoung x you #svt imagines #svt x reader #mafia hoshi #mafia soonyoung #svt angst #svt fanfic #hoshi fanfic #soonyoung fanfic

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mingtinys · 11 months ago

Text

what dating seventeen feels like

pairing : seventeen x gn!reader

headcanons , fluff , misc

warnings : none

word count : 1.1 k

requested ? no

a/n: just a small collection of the things i love in life that i associate with seventeen

choi seungcheol

falling asleep on the couch and waking up in bed. chocolate-covered strawberries. the kind of love found in romcoms. expensive dinner dates and champagne.

cologne that lingers on your clothes and bed sheets. tight, bone-crushing, hugs. his hand almost always under the hem of your shirt, skin to skin (it grounds him). him letting you win when you play wrestle. cute aggression victim.

having a rock to hold on to amidst a raging current.

yoon jeonghan

diving under a crashing wave to find calm, gentle, water. rollercoasters with big drops. feathers. lavender fields. leaving the theater and realizing night has fallen.

always saying the same thing at the same time (it scares seokmin). naps on the couch. sending each other pictures of weird-looking animals with the caption "you" or "us." partners in crime. braiding his hair.

having not only a boyfriend but a best friend in jeonghan.

joshua hong

warm blankets, fresh from the dryer. pancakes and orange juice in the morning. raw honey. the scent of freshly baked bread. scented candles and wax melts.

lives up to the gentleman title. opens doors, bides by the sidewalk rule, lends you his jacket, etc. acts! of! service!! fighting over who pays the bill (he's actually ambushed your waiter to pay before you can even see the check). domestic, mundane, slice-of-life type of love.

a honeymoon phase that never ends.

wen junhui

walking down empty streets without a care in the world. morning cartoons. clingy cats. ice cream for dinner. frozen pizza with red wine. airport liminal space hours.

taking pictures of sunsets to send to each other. doodling on his hand. staying up until 3am accidentally. back hugs galore. resting his chin atop your head. him getting as close as possible when showing him something on your phone (i'm talking cheek smooshed up against yours). sleepy jun asking for kisses every morning.

living life in the moment because you know the future can wait for you two.

kwon soonyoung

energetic snow days. sledding, snowball fights, building snowmen. energy drinks and all-nighters. watermelon sugar. summer bonfires. the ambiance of muffled music through club bathrooms.

zoo dates. always wins you the biggest prizes at carnivals. his favorite place to nap is your lap. sweaty post-dance practice hugs. he gets pouty if you start a tv show without him. baking brownies at 3am. talks about you non-stop to anyone who will (or won't) listen.

excitement that isn't momentary or overwhelming. excitement that makes life meaningful.

jeon wonwoo

tulips blooming in the spring. waxing gibbous moons. amethyst. resting after a long, busy day. the scent of old, yellowed books. rhythmic clicking of a keyboard. warm, smooth, riverbank stones.

re-adjusting his glasses for him after every kiss. let's you design his character's outfits in video games. tells you about the book he's reading like it's gossip. he's always taking candid photos of you. quiet mornings. elderly couples who see you two are reminded of how they fell in love.

defining love not by how much it's said, but by how it's felt.

lee jihoon

thunderstorms that lull you to sleep. shiny, red guitars coming to life with smooth melodies. the crackle of a fire. rosemary. empty highways at night. lightning that strikes twice.

morning coffee dates at home. napping on his studio sofa while he works. quality! time! absolutely spoils you every chance he gets. pretends to act all cool when you catch him staring. writing songs for you. his hand routinely finds your knee when he's anxious. he prefers intimate and private acts of affection to the alternative.

cherishing all the little things that make your relationship important.

lee seokmin

wishing on dandelions. blue skies. morning dew on grass. golden hour. that burning sensation you get in your lungs when laughing too hard. iced lattes.

always asking permission to kiss you. so, so attentive. falling asleep on facetime. pillow forts. lots, and lots, and lots of nose kisses. him never wanting to leave you in the morning. "five more minutes" type of guy. his favorite feeling in the world is making you laugh.

finally knowing what it means to love someone so much you'd give the world for them.

kim mingyu

sleeping by a window with the sun warming your skin. hearing your favorite song on the radio. silky white sheets. first date jitters. first love. receiving a bouquet of roses.

admires you so, so, much. talks about you 24/7, much to his members' annoyance. (jk, they love you, they just like to tease him about it). literally a sponge the way he starts picking up your habits and slang. he's physically incapable of rejecting your puppy-dog eyes. likes to lay sprawled out on top of you. he'll often seek you out if he needs a little extra support.

the feeling that comes with knowing you've found "the one."

xu minghao

the autumn leaves changing. winter constellations. a solar eclipse. the quiet of a house before everyone wakes. those cozy granny-square blankets. white wine. laughing at scary movies.

wine and painting nights. him always making two cups of tea. art museum dates. swaying together to music in the kitchen. him secretly being a sucker for your doting. has your mannerisms memorized and prides himself on it. somehow always knows what to say when you're feeling down.

growing, learning, and experiencing life alongside each other.

boo seungkwan

warm, summer air. mystery flavored lollipops that somehow taste like every flavor all at once. rosy red cheeks.

teasing each other and inside jokes. nicknames like loser, stupid-head, idiot etc. (affectionate). hours long gossip sessions. kisses that taste of coffee and tangerine chapstick. stars in his eyes whenever you're doing literally anything. having his undivided attention.

resident happy pill and mood-maker seungkwan knowing he can let his mask fall around you without judgement.

hansol vernon chwe

watching city lights blur past in the passenger seat of a car at night. cereal at 1am. falling asleep while watching tv. poorly handmade, yet meaningful gifts. assorted candies. buying road trip snacks.

communicating with a single look. ice cream dates in the middle of winter. speaking purely in movie and tiktok references. late-night conversations that take a weird turn. (you've once debated if aliens would like pineapple on pizza). pretending not to notice how shy he gets when initiating physical affection.

loving the strange, bad, and hidden parts of each other as much as the good.

lee chan

the comforting buzz and motion of a subway at night. toothy smiles. watching reruns of your favorite childhood show. surprise parties. the first snow of the new year. concert lights.

driving at 2am, singing at the top of your lungs. random dance parties in the living room. getting noise complaints and giggling about it. pillow fights and board games, competitive, yet both trying to let the other win cause it'll make them happy. asking him to open jars. him getting exceptionally giddy to open said jars. (you're completely capable, but know he likes to feel needed).

making each other's inner child feel safe.

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haologram · 6 months ago

Text

araneae 🕸️ k.sy

🕸️ synopsis: when you realize your friend (with benefits) actually has feelings for you, a tangled web of lies and avoidance ensues.

🕸️ genre: friends with benefits au ; big dummy dumb idiots to lovers because it's the only trope ever ; ta x student dynamics ; fluff, angst & smut (surprise?)

🕸️ pairing: zoology ta!kwon soonyoung x marine biology major!reader | side pairings: joshua hong x sana minatozaki ; vernon chwe x roh jisun (fromis_9) ; lee chan x jung haerim (weki meki) | mentions of: reader x yuta nakamoto (nct) ; reader x lee sangyeon (the boyz); hoshi x lee luda (wsjn) ; hoshi x choi yujin (kep1er/clc)

🕸️ word count: 18.9k (WE GOT IT UNDER 20K LETS GOOOOOO!)

🕸️ rating: 18+. minors do not interact i beg.

🕸️ warnings: this definitely more of their dynamic/relationship than him being her ta… ; mentions of knife play (none involved), alcohol, pink whitney gets its own warning as does everclear, mentions of un/protected sex (dw it'll get freaky later), mentions of cum, loss of virginity talk, mentions of marijuana (stoner!hoshi be off the honeypacks!!), mentions of STD testing (GET TESTED YOU FREAKS!) [smut warnings: multiple scenes ; mostly hoshi using sex as an apology ; oral (f. receiving) ; unprotected sex (hoshi x reader only) ; face sitting ; hoshi is a hopeless romantic and loves missionary ; they fuck mostly in their respective homes (read: he eats her out in a closet)] i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!

🕸️ what to listen to: good kisser - usher ; magic stick - lil' kim ; lie - bts ; spider - hoshi ; home - seventeen.

🕸️ author’s note: just an fyi, the smut is AWFUL and i'm not entirely happy with this🤩 but anyway, it’s finally here, the final installment of the seventeen ta collab!! special thanks to @camandemstudios for allowing me to be a part of this wonderful success, and i hope to be involved in more collabs in the future (also thank you so much for your patience, i know waiting for me to be able to post was infuriating.) enjoy stoner!hoshi…loser!hoshi? loverboy!hoshi…also somewhat bitchless!hoshi.

LAST YEAR – Sunday, October 23.

You were never opposed to a nice Halloween party. Lots of thematic drinks, stupid boys dressed as Ghostface trying to explore knife kinks, and girls going all out with their glitter make-up and tinsel in their hair for the optimal fairy costume.

You loved a good Halloween party, music blasting out of the speakers that were stolen from the AV Club by the softer version of the Beta Tau Omega brothers. Dancing with strangers in sweat-soaked facades, and waking up with smeared face paint all over your neck and shoulders from whatever disguised hook-up you'd taken home that night.

Last night's rager had to have been one for the books, because you have no idea how you ended up in this absolute mess of a bedroom – owned by none other than your close friend, Kwon Soonyoung. The same Kwon Soonyoung who also happens to TA the class you've put off taking for the last two years, and are set to start taking the upcoming spring semester.

The same Kwon Soonyoung that was related to the wife of the Dean, and the same Kwon Soonyoung that showed up everywhere stoned or ready to get stoned. The very same Kwon Soonyoung that made infused pre-rolls and edibles for nearly the entire campus…for free. Even you could see that was a horrible business call, and you were a Science major.

Soonyoung who helped people sneak kittens into their dorm rooms and make homes for them under lofted beds. Soonyoung, who taught a dance class and self-defense class back to back, so he was never free until after nine at night. Soonyoung who made hanging out seem like he was trying to get into your pants because he was just naturally flirtatious (and somehow, still absolutely bitchless.)

Soonyoung who you've kissed twice since meeting him two years ago, both times at Halloween parties hosted by his stupid fraternity. Soonyoung, who has had his hand up your skirt twice before someone interrupts you by asking if he has any weed at hand. He always does, and it's always in his car or his bedroom. He always goes, and a part of you, no matter how into it you may be, knows it's for the best.

He keeps his circle small, of friends that is. You were added to the mix sometime after your first Halloween party (and first kiss together) your freshman year, when he slammed into you in the middle of the economics hallway, breaking your laptop in the process. He'd felt so bad he took you to Best Buy that same night and shelled out two grand for a new one and even invited you out to lunch the next day.

He did not remember making out at all. To be fair, neither did you until the digital photos came back and he texted you a picture of the two of you kissing against the Beta Tau Omega insignia on the wall. You were so embarrassed you avoided him for a week after, but he quickly forced you out of your dorm for a movie night. The two of you became fast friends, bonding over silly little things and enjoying each other's company – but it didn't stop the rumors from flying that you were a freshman stealing a guy from the sophomores.

You remember that he adamantly denied any and every dating rumor flung your way, and even went as far as distancing himself from you for a bit – but when you tried to pull the same move he had earlier that year, he said maybe it was best for the two of you to remain friends from a distance. You didn't speak to him for the rest of the year, choosing to spend your time with friends your age and even dating a transfer student named Yuta Nakamoto, who was also in Soonyoung's year.

When word got around, Soonyoung was pissed – but didn't attempt to rekindle your friendship. He still followed you on Instagram, and still felt a bit of anger puddle in his stomach as he liked photo after photo of the two of you together, biting his tongue at the empty smile you held by his side.

This continued well into summer, and he saw the two of you take a trip to Jeju Island together, before breaking up the following week. Soonyoung heard from your friend, Nagyung, that he was transferring back and neither of you wanted to try long-distance.

The following school year, he watched as you got recruited by sorority after sorority – eventually joining his frat's sister sorority, Alpha Sigma Delta. You hardly had to rush, the girls actively pushing you to pledge and you were far too nice to say no.

You saw him again for the first time at the Halloween party planning, when you and your fellow pledges were tasked with helping the frat pledges in hauling in liquor. You weren't very happy about it, but Soonyoung whisked you away without a word from you, telling everyone that he needed your help with a certain task.

That task?

"Can we talk?"

And you did. You talked, and talked, and talked. He even left at one point to get drinks for the two of you, returning to you fishing through his bag of pre-rolls for the ones infused with lemon balm. He smiled, telling you they were in his car, and you rolled your eyes at it.

You kissed at that party, too. It went further this time – the two of you on Seungcheol's balcony. The idea had been to go up to the roof and get crossed, but it seems a rather tipsy Soonyoung had other ideas. You didn't mind it, in fact you encouraged it – you slipped his hand up your latex dress, you let him slip your panties down your legs.

"Hey, Hoshi! Do you have any pre-rolls?!"

Just as he'd started undoing his pants.

"Fuck, I'm sorry baby."

"It's fine."

You passed out in his bedroom that time, too tired to go back to the sorority house with your sisters. You got out of clean-up, and Soonyoung left you a kimbap roll and an electrolyte drink on his nightstand, with a note asking how you got there 'haha.'

It hadn't been fine. Again, neither of you remembered this happening until digitals were printed. And it was freshman year all over again – except this time, Soonyoung stuck around. Soonyoung defended you tooth and nail, and even dropped a few of his friends that bad-mouthed you. When you asked him about it, he shrugged, "Nothing wrong with kissing your friends every once in a while."

So, here you are. Again.

The third year in a row you and your stupid friend have made out, and somehow, you're in his bed. There's no other explanation as for why your underwear is across the room, hanging off his lamp and why his head is gently laying on your chest. There's literally no other explanation.

"Soonyoung." You rasp, patting his cheek. He doesn't stir, but pouts into your bare breast. "Soonyoung." You speak louder, shaking him slightly as he peels open one of his eyes.

"Yeah?"

It takes him a moment to realize that it's you, sprinkled with glitter from his eye look last night and practically doused in his saliva.

"Oh, fuck." He just furrows his brows, rolling off your chest with a groan. He sits up at the edge of the bed, surveying the room before realizing he's got no pants on. "Son of a bitch. Did we…Yup. Yup, it's right there."

His painted fingernails point at the discarded condom atop his dresser, flung hastily in a half-asleep attempt, most likely. You sigh, letting your head fall back on your pillow with a hmph. He does the same, his fingers only reaching up slightly to close the blinds with a jerk of the liftcord.

"You think it was good?" You ask with a small smile, and he snorts. "It was with you, I doubt it would've been bad."

Silence permeates the air again, before he sees your bare bottom half also covered in glitter. You have a tattoo on your hip that you didn't have when you first met. It's a stick-and-poke kitten. "Nice tattoo."

"Thanks, I got it on Jeju Island."

"When you and Yuta went?"

"Yup."

"Cool."

He sits up, peering down at you with tired eyes. "What'd you see in that guy, anyway?"

"Hm?"

"Yuta."

"Oh. You want the truth?"

It's like being nude in front of each other isn't a big deal. It's like having slept together after years of being in limbo means nothing. It's all so normal, the way you allow him to practically eye fuck you.

"I was sad you stopped being my friend."

He blinks at you, watching the way you carefully pick at a thread loose in his comforter. You pull it out, discarding it behind you with a soft smile. "Does that answer your question?"

"You fucked another guy because I stopped being your friend?" He asks incredulously, and you shrug. "Not just, but it was a large reason."

"You lost your virginity to him." His eyes are wide, and you shrug once more, nodding your head.

"Yup."

"Did he make you cum?"

"Soonyoung-"

"Did he?"

You sigh, patting his comforter. "Not the first couple of times, no. He got better at it, though. It was decent."

Nodding, he clears his throat.

"Do you think I-"

"Maybe. I don't know. I don't remember much, just the Pink Whitney Mingyu gave me."

"Mingyu does love his Pink Whitney."

You flip onto your back again, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. Tucking your hands behind your head, you speak again. "Do you think I went down on you?"

"There's lipstick on my tip."

"What color?"

"Uhh…wine red."

You wipe a finger across your bottom lip, the small amount of residue a bloody, Cabernet red.

"Hm. Checks out."

The air feels…comfortable.

"Wanna shower?"

"Yeah."

"Can I shower with you?"

"Yeah, Soonie."

The two of you stretch simultaneously, before rolling to the side of the bed and standing up. He grabs the discarded condom off the dresser, holding it like a used tissue and taking it to the bin. You dig through his dresser for a towel, and he fishes out something for you to wear.

"Boxers okay?"

"Hm, I prefer briefs."

"On me or on you?"

"Your underwear choices are your business."

He holds up a pair of Spiderman briefs. You bite back your laugh and nod silently, extending your hand for them.

He disappears into his bathroom, flickering lights on and turning the shower head on. "Hot?"

"Boiling."

"Got it."

The both of you get in, and you close your eyes as the water pelts your back. Soonyoung says nothing as he moves your hair off your shoulders and away from your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"You should've asked me." He mumbles, reaching for the shampoo in the caddy behind you. Peeling your eyes open, you look up at him with a confused stare. "Asked you for what?"

He shrugs, holding the shampoo bottle upside down over his hand and squirting some out. "I would've made you cum the first time."

You snort, shoving his chest lightly. "Yeah, well…you didn't. It's fine."

"This isn't weird to you?"

"What? Showering together?"

"After fucking, yeah."

"Could be worse."

"How?"

"I could be that girl you've been flirting with since last year, wondering when you're going to text her back."

"Who? Yujin?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not flirting with her, what made you think that?"

"Stolen glances, flirty touches, you give her pre-rolls all the time."

He rolls his eyes as he cards his fingers through your hair, his dull nails scrubbing your scalp gently. Your eyes flutter shut, and he huffs. "I give everyone pre-rolls."

"Because you're a horrible business magnate."

"No, because I'm nice."

You smile without opening your eyes, your hands reaching out to touch his chest. His body feels good under your fingertips, you realize. "Are you mad you don't remember any of it?"

"Furious." He mutters, gently tilting your head back to wash the soap out. You can't see the way he's looking at the sweet slope of your neck, just barely making out small nips of his teeth across your throat. Your necklace hangs nicely.

The rest of the shower remains silent, as he carefully washes you before himself. His attention to detail is insane, the way his fingers hold the washcloth taut so he can feel every inch of you. He has to commit this to memory.

After, you're drying your hair with a random t-shirt he gave you. He remembers you told him that towels can be too rough for your hair texture sometimes. It's only when you're brushing your teeth with a brand new toothbrush he pulled from his cabinets that he speaks.

"Let me change my bedsheets."

"Don't wanna lay in the sin of fucking your friend, do ya?"

The navy blue sheets are quickly replaced by ones with light grey ditsy floral print, and his comforter is shoved off and replaced by a few throw blankets. He watches as you change his pillowcases, only looking away when he hears his phone ping.

Msg From: Cheol

[9:32am] hosh

[9:32am] who is the girl in ur room and is she missing a pair of cat ears

"What was your costume last night?" He asks, and you snort. "I was a sexy witch."

He smiles to himself as he picks up his phone.

Msg To: Cheol

[9:33am] not missing a pair of cat ears

[9:34am] and it's y/n

Your head snaps up when you hear a pair of feet thundering up the stairs, followed by silence. You give him an odd look, only to hear excited giggles down the hall and the pitter-patter of two adult men coming towards Soonyoung's room. You cross your arms as you hear the door creak open, an expectant look on your face as Jeonghan and Seungcheol's noses appear through the crack.

"Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Jeonghan remarks sweetly, and you just roll your eyes.

"He wasn't bluffing." He whispers to Seungcheol, receiving an annoyed huff from Soonyoung. "If you're done intruding on my personal business, I'd appreciate it if you left. The pledges still need to clean up last night's mess."

Jeonghan gives you a wry look. "Can I say something and you don't get upset?"

"If it's about sex, I will punch you in that pretty face of yours." You say pointedly, fluffing the pillow in your hand before throwing it onto his bed. Jeonghan purses his lips, nodding before sliding out from under Seungcheol. He nods his head, a satisfied look on his face. "Have a good…don't fuck too loud, okay?"

Soonyoung barely misses Seungcheol's face with the charger he throws across the room, his giggle being heard in the hallway as he barrels down the stairs.

"Idiots." He huffs, running a hand through his damp hair as you flop onto the bed. "You don't mind if I stay here a bit? My head's killing me."

He lays down next to you, a sigh escaping his lips.

"You okay, Soonie?"

Turning only his head, he scans your face. Tired eyes lined with thick lashes, plump lips covered by the Aquaphor in his bathroom. Slightly unkempt brows and your shoulder tattoo peeking out from the collar of his shirt on your frame.

"Kitty?"

You grimace at the pet name, one he christened you with when the two of you met. He'd been dressed up as a cowboy, and dancing with a skeleton that was stolen from the comparative anatomy students (with the help of Junhui, of course.) He also had a lit joint between his fingers, one that sprinkled ash over your newly healed shoulder tattoo and made you yelp in pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry, kitty." He quickly put it out in a nearby ashtray, dusting your shoulder of any ash residue. "It's fine, it's fine. Just…can I get a hit?"

"Yeah?"

He sits up, leaning against his bed frame before looking down at you.

"Would it be weird if I asked to try again?"

You glance up at him, an amused smile playing on your lips. "Try what again, exactly?"

He clears his throat, a beet red blush coating his cheeks. "You said Yuta didn't make you cum. And we don't know if I made you cum. So…can I have a redemption round?"

You've sat up at this point, a small laugh falling from your lips as you push your hair back, "You want to fuck me?"

"I can just go down on you, if, uh…if that's what you'd prefer." He stutters, mentally cursing himself. You glance at him, eyes scanning his face. "And we're still friends after this? You won't dump me?"

"I won't. I promise. Cross my heart, kitty." He holds his pinky finger out, insinuating you link yours. Sighing, you do just that. "Fine. Hop to, I want breakfast."

He moves to kiss you, but you give him yet another amused look. "What are you doing, Soonie?"

"...Kissing you?" He gives you a confused look, and you scoff out a laugh. "You said nothing about kissing, Kwon."

He gapes at you, "How am I supposed to connect our auras if we don't kiss? I can't get hard if I don't get kissed, you know. I can't properly engage with… her, if you don't let me kiss you." He sits back on his haunches, explaining each point to you. You bite back your laughter, nodding along.

"Sculptors start from scratch, Soonyoung. I am art, awaiting your expert touch." You shrug as he finishes his spiel, and he furrows his brows. "Fine."

Sinking down to his stomach in front of you, ringed fingers palming at your thighs. You sigh, sucking your teeth as he noses at your skin, placing kisses on your stomach.

You scoot back slightly, resting your back against his headboard. He looks up at you as you roll your eyes, beckoning him forward with your hand as you shimmy out of the stupid Spiderman briefs. "Make it fast."

"Won't take me that long, anyway." He mumbles, pushing his hair out of his face before placing a chaste kiss on your exposed slit. "How do you like it? Just tongue? Messy?"

"Whatever you want, though I'm not super into fingering at the same time." You shrug, your own carding through his shaggy locks and holding him in place. He smirks against your skin, "Don't need them."

His tongue swirls carefully around your clit, the motion far too practiced to be out of the ordinary for him. He leans into your soft gasp, the gentle buck of your hips enough to help him bury his face into your wet heat. "Spit on it." You whisper, and he does just as you ask.

The taste is tart and heady, spreading around his tongue and chin as he expertly sucks on your swollen bundle of nerves. His eyes are closed as he sloppily collects your arousal, your whines growing frustrated as he holds your hips down. "F-Faster, Soonie."

He rolls his eyes, annoyed at your inability to relax as he obnoxiously moans against you, the vibrations making you squirm. "You're so mean." You pout, feeling him smile into you. He shrugs, closing his eyes before returning to his ministrations.

He feels you shift, peeling open an eye to see your hand under your shirt, rolling your nipple through your fingers with your lip tucked between your teeth. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, using your ankle to pull you down to his level. Your eyes shoot open the moment his hands are on the hem of your (his) shirt, tugging it over your head. You're pliant, agreeing with whatever he wants to do when you feel him grab your face gently, "Can I kiss you?"

You can't bite back your smile, making him roll his eyes as he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You feel your stomach buzz a bit, feeling his half-hard cock through his boxers pressed against you. You cant your hips up softly, earning a hiss as he nips at your bottom lip.

"Thought you said you can't get hard without kissing, Soonie. Tsk, tsk." You mock him, before your fingers reach for the waistband of his boxers, snapping the elastic against his skin.

"Take them off."

He snaps his head up to look at you, eyes wide as your hand dips below the waistband, gently wrapping around his length. He sighs at your touch, before pushing the underwear down his legs with his free hand. He reaches for the nightstand, digging out the box of condoms – empty.

"Fuck." He mutters, and you turn to see the empty box being flicked across the room. "Are you clean?" You ask with a click of your tongue, and he reaches in the same drawer and pulls out a folded piece of paper, handing it to you with a blush across his cheeks.

"A week ago." He whispers, and you shrug, tossing the results – all of which were negative – to the floor and smiling up at him. "Well, go on. You have a task to complete, Kwon."

"Are you sure?" He's talking to himself, dragging the tip of his cock through your wet folds, a soft whine from your lips as he circles your clit with his thumb. "Hurry up before I change my mind and tell everyone you can't make a girl cum."

Your threat is empty, he knows – but you see the way he rolls his eyes, easing the head of his cock into your aching hole. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, your fingernails digging into his back as he slowly bottoms out.

"Fuck." He mutters into your shoulder, before sinking his teeth into your skin and giving a slow thrust. A choked moan from your lips is his reward, as he sets a slow pace and drags his teeth across your chest. Your nails drag down his back gently as his tongue swirls around your nipple, making you whimper.

"Soonie.." Your whine is cut off by his hand across your mouth. "Don't, I'll cum." He admits against your chest, making you snort slightly. Your hand wraps around his wrist, pulling it off your mouth as you lean up to capture his lips in yours. It's sloppy but you don't care, feeling him roll his hips into yours slowly as your tongue slips into his mouth.

His whine into your mouth is nothing if not pitiful (read: hot.) Your laugh slips out as he readjusts his hold on you, folding your legs to your chest and fucking into you deeper. The new angle makes you let out a choked moan, his lips dragging along your jawline as he bullies his cock into you.

It's almost like you can feel pride seeping through his pores as you whine into his skin, feeling his lips curl into a smile against your shoulder as he bites down softly. You're sure he's determined to ruin you for anyone else, his hand slipping between the two of you to toy with your clit. The mix of sounds in his bedroom is obscene, but nothing is more embarrassing than the two of you jumping simultaneously when someone bangs on his door. Your hand flies over your mouth as they shout for you two to keep it down, making Soonyoung laugh, the tips of his ears turning pink as you clench around him. Your tummy starts to fill with warmth, the band threatening to snap as he peels your hand off your mouth for a searing kiss.

It's enough for the two of you to whimper, your fingers moving to curl into his hair, feeling the white-hot heat of your orgasm coursing through your body. He groans into your lips, and you can feel him fighting himself as he pulls out, his cum painting the stupid kitty tattoo on your hip.

The two of you are silent as you regain your composure, the room filled with soft pants as you brush your hair off your face. He clears his throat, and you almost instinctively roll your eyes as his question breaks the tension.

"On a scale of one to ten–" "I am not rating your stroke game, this is not RateMyDick.com."

His face buries into your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he scoffs out a laugh. Your fingernails trail lightly along his neck, his lips pressing soft kisses to your shoulders before he pushes off you.

"Pancakes?" He tilts his head, making you snort. "Are you paying?" "Fuck no, we can make Cheol buy." He scoffs, and you laugh fully this time. "Do you think Cheol feels like buying me the greasiest patty melt he can find?" "Whatever you want, kitty." He kisses the tip of your nose, making you scrunch it while pushing his head away. "That tickles, stop. Now get off me, I feel the need to spend Cheol's trustfund on food that will knock me out." He just smiles as he lifts himself off you, sliding off the bed in the direction of his bathroom. You can't help but feel a bit of anxiety pool in your lower belly, hearing the faucet running slowly before he reappears. You quickly smile, "You okay?" "Are you?" He echoes, his hand reaches for your thigh as he wipes you down gently with a damp washcloth. "Yeah, m'fine." He doesn't look convinced, giving you a raise of his brows as he tosses the washcloth to the side, offering his hand to help you sit up. When you do, he grabs the shirt you'd been wearing and carefully pulls it over your head – and if he feels the willful stare of your eyes on him, he says nothing about it.

"Are you having regrets?" He murmurs, reaching for the underwear he let you borrow. You sigh inwardly, shaking your head. "No. Just…it's silly."

"It's not silly, whatever it is you're feeling. We're friends, kitty. You can tell me." He shrugs, helping you up off the bed and leading you to the bathroom. "You're not gonna watch me pee, are you?" You tease, and he snorts.

"Do you want me to?" "Get out." He does. He shuts the door behind him, leaving the briefs on the sink. You sigh quietly, willing the negative thoughts away. You don't regret it, no – but it feels like your slight game of cat-and-mouse has ended. He's caught you, sunk his teeth into you and now you're dead.

You reach for the briefs, pulling them over your ankles and up to your knees while you sit. You hear him rustling around, before hearing the door to his room open and shut. A wave of sadness flows over you, and you wonder if he really meant it. That he wouldn't leave this time – he hadn't last year, after he took your underwear off in Seungcheol's room (and stuffed the pair of pink panties in his pocket – something you never heard the end of when Jeonghan found out they were yours.) Sighing once more, you finish your business, tossing the toilet paper in the can and amp yourself up as you wash your hands. "No big deal, Y/N. Friends fuck all the time. Right?" You hear the door to his room open again, and you turn the water off, shaking the excess water off your hands as you open the bathroom door. He glances up at you, holding a tray with a pitcher of water and electrolyte packets.

"You like watermelon, right? It's the only flavor we have left." He says, and you nod quietly. "Yeah, that's fine."

Flopping back onto his bed, you cover your bottom half with one of the throw blankets as he portions out the electrolytes. You reach over and open his nightstand drawer, fishing through for his Advil.

"Bottoms up." He hands you your glass, and you pop open the cap. "Yum, ibuprofen electrolyte cocktail." You mutter, shoving two in his hand before popping your own in your mouth.

The two of you clink glasses before chugging, mirroring each other's grimaces as you finish the liquid. He scrunches his nose, sliding the glass on the nightstand before laying back and moving like a worm to slide in next to you.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, grabbing his phone from in between the blankets and opening the Doordash app. You don't respond, opting to pull the blanket a little higher as you rest your head on his shoulder. He scrolls through mindlessly, before finding your favorite breakfast spot. The two of you found it during the summer, when neither of you went home and decided to take summer classes. You wound up taking Seungcheol's room while he went home with his girlfriend.

You don't like the wave of sadness you feel suddenly.

He's your friend. One could even say he's one of your best friends. What if this was a mistake?

You feel tears prick at your eyes.

"Can you hold me?" You murmur, and he doesn't even stop to think as he shuts his phone off and pulls you into him, his hand curling into the nape of your neck. His fingernails are lightly scratching at your scalp as he wraps himself around you, allowing you to snuggle into his chest. "I'm scared, Hosh."

You can't hold back the sniffle at that, but you can feel him tuck you further into his embrace. "I won't leave. I promise, I promise you I won't leave." He whispers, and you can hear the waver in his voice. He tries to mask it, pressing soft kisses to your hairline.

"What if this ruins our friendship?" You ask thickly, and you can feel him shake his head above you. "It won't. I won't let it. We can't let it."

He pulls back, his thumb coming to wipe under your eyes carefully. "I don't think I ever told you what I did when we stopped talking that year." "No," You laugh softly, reaching up to wipe his own face. "You didn't." "I slept with like six people that year." He scrunches his nose, before his eyes go wide. "No, five and a half."

"Half?" You question, and he nods. "Does it count? Like, if she went down on me but then her roommate walked in on us and she was too embarrassed to keep going?" "I think so?" "Okay, so six." "You're a slut." "Sue me, I was filling a void." He scoffs, and you just shake your head at him. "You could've just talked to me."

If he’s aware of your hypocrisy, he says nothing. "I am a flawed man, kitty. I have too much pride to admit my mistakes." He sighs, pushing your hair out of your face. "Yet here we are." You say pointedly, making him roll his eyes.

"Anyway, I don't regret this…us." He gestures between the two of you, before clearing his throat. "But, we don't have to speak about it, like, ever again if you do. It'll be like it never happened." Sighing, you roll onto your back, still pressed tightly against his torso. "That never works. I mean, Cheol and Hannie know, now, too." You scrunch your nose a bit at the idea of your friends' relentless teasing awaiting, but he shrugs.

"Cheol owes me for that time I helped him replace his bed frame after Sowon broke it. I still can't believe they're dating, but it makes their chaos like, ten times worse." He groans, and you snicker. "Are we sure it wasn't Seungcheol who broke it? Last I heard, he's a freak." "He probably did, he had a bit of bruising around his wrists and there were cuffs attached to the bedposts." He says pointedly, before the two of you glance at each other quickly.

"No." He tongues his cheek to stop himself from smiling. "I didn't say anything." "You're thinking about it, Soonyoung. Stop it." "You literally let me cum on you."

You grimace up at him, and he snorts. “Sorry.”

“Just order the food, my stomach is about to start eating itself.” You roll your eyes, smacking him when you both feel his phone buzz. He grabs it, and you once more feel your stomach sink.

Msg From: choi yujin [10:49am] hey hoshi…r u busy? can i come over?

“Yikes.” He mutters, and you push the covers off. “I can go—”

“Shut up. Lay down.” He yanks your arm, making you fall back onto the pillows as he messages her back with one hand.

Msg From: choi yujin [10:50am] i am yeah [10:51am] let’s set a date to talk

“What if she wants to dump you?” You ponder aloud, watching as he reopens the Doordash app and adds your food to the cart. He shrugs, selecting an order of french toast. “Then she dumps me. I should care, right?”

You just snort, making him smile inwardly as he wraps his arm around you.

The two of you let your eyes eat, ordering little things and ignoring messages from Yujin. You feel bad, really, because Yujin is a sweet girl and your friend is a bit of an airhead at times.

“I’ll go get it when it’s here.” He yawns, stretching slightly and rebounding to wrap himself around you. “Or, we can bribe Mingyu with that order of eggs benedict we did not need to order.”

“Ha, true.” He nods, shooting a text to the man before tossing his phone behind him. “And kitty?”

“Yes, Soonie?”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

You glance down at him, noting the way his eyes are slightly heavy. You hold in your sigh — carding your fingers through blond locks. “Any time, Soonie.”

PRESENT DAY — November 4th.

Unfortunately (for your achey, breaky heart) — Soonyoung took ‘any time’ literally.

You’d gone home later that afternoon, reluctantly prying yourself from Soonyoung’s arms and wiping a bit of syrup from his french toast off your lip. Not at all put there from him kissing you.

No way.

The two of you had fallen into a bit of a lockstep — he’d decided to add another semester to his schedule, admitting he felt overwhelmed by his classes. You were just happy you’d have your friend around for a bit longer, and most of the other frat brothers felt the same.

However, with great sacrifice comes great responsibility — Soonyoung had a lot of free time, and you were only taking four classes a semester as it was. He would come over to your room at the sorority house, bring you dinner and help you study, and somehow the two of you would end up on your bed with his tongue between your legs. Or with his dick in your throat. Or, a fancier third option — turning the stereo on and fucking like rabbits.

Your housemates learned to hate Novacane by Frank Ocean.

But without fail, this happened at least once a week. Neither of you mentioned it after, with him leaving the next morning with a chaste kiss to your lips and a murmured have a good day, kitty.

Your sorority sisters grew curious, and you admitted to them that the two of you were just fucking around. When word of this got around — because humans love to gossip — Soonyoung came over and the two of you sat down to discuss the dynamics of your…situationship.

And nothing changed.

The two of you admitted to each other that it was odd to behave like this. You were the first to confess that it helped you get your mind off things when you were stressed, to which he agreed. It ended with the two of you agreeing to resort to these meetups once or twice a week — and with him fucking his dick into you so slowly, you cried.

Granted, these meetups did not stop over the summer. Neither of you went home, once more opting to stay on campus for summer courses. This time, though — most of the brothers had gone home, and the two of you could not keep your hands off each other. You reminded yourself to still have to apologize to Chan for fucking in his room.

Not that Soonyoung didn’t already take the brunt of Chan’s wrath, but it was beyond you now.

This being said, your tradition of fucking around on Halloween had been upheld this year — but to the point where when you arrived, Mingyu did not offer you his bottle of Pink Whitney because Soonyoung had gotten you your own. You’d laughed, and Mingyu pouted as the two of you drank together.

Soonyoung found you a little after midnight, and you were barely tipsy when he whispered in your ear, asking if you wanted to go up to the roof. You nodded, putting your cowgirl hat on a rather mopey Mingyu — linking your pinkies with Soonyoung’s as he pulled you upstairs.

The two of you hadn’t seen each other much that week, because you had midterms. He offered you a hit of his joint before grabbing your jaw gently and using it as leverage to kiss you.

That night felt different — he took a bit longer to take your clothes off, he kissed you all over. Not that he didn’t normally do that, but it seemed as though he was trying to absorb you fully. You blamed it on the weed, but let him worship you on the roof of his frat house.

You’d been on top for most of it — he doesn’t usually prefer it that way, Soonyoung was a missionary man through and through. You had noticed his glassy eyes as he ran his hands all over your body, and you asked him twice if he was okay. He nodded, kissing you both times before flipping you onto your back. He’d carried you back down to his room after you finished, locking his door behind him and running a shower for the two of you.

It gave you déjà vu.

That was a week ago. You hadn’t seen Soonyoung since, but a part of you didn’t mind the space. You’d felt a bit more that night, but you just blamed it on the Pink Whitney.

“Hey, pretty.” You look up, seeing Minghao walking towards you with a bag in his hand. The two of you had this study session in the back corner of the library every few days, but neither of you cared to admit that it was just an excuse to gossip together and watch America’s Next Top Model.

“Hey, Hao. How’re you?” You ask coolly, before making a show of opening your laptop and opening Hulu, pressing on ANTM and lowering the volume to mute. He snorts, opening the bag and sliding your portion on the table. “I’m good, pretty. However, I do have some intel from a little bird.”

He looks at you pointedly, and you scoff as you open your food. Inhaling deeply, you sigh before stabbing your fork into the pasta. You shrug, “Okay. What’s your intel?”

“That you and Hoshi fucked on the roof, and there’s photos of you making out.” He bites into a breadstick, and you roll your eyes. “There have been photos of us making out every year. This is nothing new.”

“I’m just saying. None of the photos in years past have had his hands under your shirt so shamelessly.” He shrugs, and you furrow your brow. “Hands under my shirt??”

You had worn a latex halter top. You’d never taken it off, and he’d only moved it aside when the two of you were on the roof to get a full view. “Yeah, you were a sexy cop, right? It’s all over the stupid underground site.”

You glance at him, wiping cream sauce off your lip. “I was a cowgirl, Minghao. I even put my hat on Mingyu.”

His eyes are wide as he chews, before his brows furrow and he gestures at the laptop.

You pause the muted show, shoving your fork into your plate before typing in the website. BetaTOU.com had been a domain purchased by the frat president from twelve years ago so they could share photos without being bitched at by the university. It was also a forum for complaints and suggestions. Everything was neatly kept and tagged with dates to stay organized, and if you wanted any photos taken down they were removed within the hour.

You scroll carefully, eyeing every photo of the frat brothers posted from last week. Mingyu wearing your hat is amongst the first few, and a back shot of you and Soonyoung with your pinkies linked walking up the stairs is right after it. You know it’s you, you can see the bracelet he gave you for your birthday dangling on your wrist.

You keep scrolling — Minghao doing a keg stand, Chan and Seokmin playing beer pong (and Chan getting Iced by Jihoon), and Vernon making out with two girls at once. Slut.

You begin to nibble on your fingernails as you scroll further, finally landing on a photo of Soonyoung and Yujin making out in front of one of the bathrooms at the Beta Tau house. You scoff out a laugh, her hat on his head and his hands, yup, under her shirt.

“Sexy cop, meet a big, fat liar.” You scowl, closing the laptop and jerking back in your chair, pulling your knees up to balance your takeout plate on. Minghao peers at you, watching as you angrily shovel pasta into your mouth. “Slow down, pretty. You’ll choke and I don’t know first aid.”

Shaking your head, “We literally fucked that night, Hao. That had to have happened before, because I literally showered and spent the night in his room.”

If he notes the hurt in your voice, he doesn’t mention it. He sighs instead, shaking his head before his hand finds your limp one in your lap. “Are you guys exclusive?”

“No.” You answer quickly, trying to shrug it off as he squeezes your hand lightly. “Don’t do that, obviously you have feelings for him, Y/N.”

“I do not.” You refute. “And even if I did, there are too many negative factors to being in a relationship with him.”

“Like what?” Minghao rolls his eyes, making you scoff.

“Like the fact that he hasn’t spoken to me all week? Like the fact that he’s a whore?” You say all of this like it’s common knowledge, and Minghao gives you an amused look.

“Not as much as Vernon.”

“Not relevant, Hao.”

Minghao shrugs, sitting back as he tears another piece of his breadstick off. You pout, letting go of his hand the moment you hear your phone buzz on the table. Reaching for it, you hand it to Minghao without a second glance.

“It’s Hoshi.”

“Read it and let me know if I should answer.”

Msg From: Soonyoung 🐯🩷

[4:32pm] kitty [4:34pm] please don’t be upset [4:35pm] can we talk? i can swing by the house tonight?

You roll your eyes, hating the way your nose burns as tears gather in your eyes.

Okay. You weren’t dumb.

You knew you’d catch feelings eventually. It was inevitable — Soonyoung was a good fuck, of course, but…something was different. He was sweet, he was doting and attentive. He soon learned your favorite flavor of electrolytes were never ones the frat kept in stock because Mingyu finished them all, so he bought you your own stash for his bedroom. He invited you to the dance class he taught, urging you to go and watch him dance to Fergalicious with the older women who lived in your college town.

Grimacing at your inner monologue, you reach for your phone from Minghao.

Msg To: Soonyoung 🐯🩷 [4:38pm] why would i be upset [4:39pm] and no, i’ve got things i need to do tonight. sorry.

“The guy is definitely gonna agonize over this tonight.” Minghao mentions, making a smoking motion with his fingers. It makes you crack a smile, and you turn your phone on silent before opening the laptop again, switching back to your show and pressing play.

The two of you avoid your Advanced Calculus work on the table, watching as students file in and out of the library — most of them eyeing your plates of takeout before finding a seat.

You can’t help but think about the photo of Soonyoung and Yujin. You’d never had anything against Yujin, and you never would — it made no sense to resent her when Soonyoung is the one who owed you loyalty.

Not that he actually did, anyway — the two of you were not exclusive. You’d been the one to bring it up. He simply set that in place, sending you his STD panel results every few weeks.

You didn’t have to do the same. You didn’t fuck anyone but him.

Minghao walks you home, the two of you filling the air with chatter of missing Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua. The three had graduated, but had come to the Beta Tau Halloween party to visit. All in tow with their girlfriends, of which Joshua’s was still a student at the University and a part of your sorority — Sana Minatozaki.

“Can we do Thai next week? I know your birthday is on Thursday, and I’m sure you don’t wanna spend it with me.” You snort as you reach the front of the house, seeing Momo and Yerin sitting on the steps with ice cream in their hands. They wave at Minghao, who waves back.

“Nonsense, pretty. It’s a Thursday and I’m tired of parties.” He yawns, stretching slightly. You snicker, giving him a one-armed hug as you bid your goodbye. He doesn’t leave as you trek up the stairs, greeting your sorority sisters as you yank open the front door.

Sighing, you let a bit of emotion take over as a few tears trickle down your face. You jog up the stairs, slipping your sweater off and hanging it on the coat rack by the handrail on the third floor. You wipe at your face, annoyed at the sinking feeling of your heart as you toe your shoes off, shoving them on the shelf by the coat rack.

“Shower. That’s what I need.” You murmur, heading down the hallway to your room. Your door is slightly ajar, but you figure one of your sisters must’ve gone in to borrow something. You get closer, flinging the door open when you reach it and seeing Soonyoung sitting at the foot of your bed with a bag in his hands.

You blink at him, noting the redness in his ears as he takes you in. Neither of you speak, and he watches as you slide your bag into your desk chair, unpacking your belongings onto your desk where they usually go. He stares as you take a sip from your water bottle, before leaning against your desk, arms crossed.

“I can explain.” He starts, and you tongue your cheek. “Explain what? Maybe why you’re in my bedroom? I did say I was busy, Soonyoung.”

“Don’t do that, don’t be mad.” He whines at the sound of his name, and you furrow your brows. “I’m not mad, dude. What are you on?”

“It was a mistake, okay? I was looking for you and she—” You cut him off with a hand in the air, the words you know he hates to hear slipping from your lips.

“We’re not exclusive, Soonyoung. You can kiss whoever you want, you can fuck whoever you want. As long as you keep getting tested and it comes back clean, I don’t care.” You lie through your teeth, and he stands, putting the bag on your desk. You see his hands clench slightly around nothing as they reach his sides.

“I’m still sorry.” He murmurs, and you roll your eyes. Shaking your head, you begin to slip your shirt over your head. “I’m gonna shower. Feel free to stay, or go. I don’t care.”

“Okay.” He flops back on your bed, and you walk into your bathroom silently. Turning the water on, you strip and step inside, basking in the heat of the steam.

What were the two of you really doing? He was going to be the teacher’s assistant in your Zoology class next semester. You couldn’t really risk people thinking you were fucking him for your grades — it would put both of you at risk.

Professor Kwon was also a notoriously absent teacher, with her TAs from the past saying she was rarely in class. However, complaints resulted in simply receiving a large sum of money from her at the end of the year — and you found out through Soonyoung that Professor Kwon was married to the Dean.

And how does Soonyoung know that?

Professor Kwon is his aunt. She trusted that Soonyoung would be able to take over the class because he wasn’t particularly squeamish, and she knew all about his bad habit of sneaking stray kittens into dorm rooms. And his bad habit of being high as fuck — not that she was any better, though her vice was vacations, not weed.

He was smart, Soonyoung. You knew he was — his transcript was full of advanced math and science classes, and you saw one B in the extensive packet. Yes, a packet.

He took Zoology last year, even if it wasn’t part of his major. When you think of it, you don’t even really know what his major is — he just does whatever for the sake of it. It’s like he’s only really here to be entertained — and you don’t blame him.

Your passion for animals is also something that brought you and Soonyoung together. While he cared about the ones in the more vegetative biodomes — savannahs, tropical rainforests…the like. You, on the other hand, were one with the water — you loved fish, cephalopods, crustaceans. You had a small angelfish tattoo on your ankle, one Soonyoung constantly kissed if you were in missionary.

The two of you bonded over documentaries, even if the night ended with the two of you fooling around. You remember the night you watched Aliens of The Deep — you tied him to your radiator because he wouldn’t stop grinding his dick against your ass. You fucked him after, sure, but James Cameron deserved to have his documentary cherished.

Wringing your hair out of excess water, you step out of the shower, grabbing your towel off the rack and wrapping it around yourself. Opening the door, you see Soonyoung lying on your bed with his eyes closed, earphones plugged into his phone. As you lean closer, you hear a song reminiscent of Fergie’s Big Girls Don’t Cry.

Snorting, you nudge his leg with your foot, making him peel his eyes open. He pulls out one of the earphones, “Yes?”

“What are you doing? Why are you listening to Fergie?” You ask, moving past him to rummage your dresser for underwear. He sighs, “Because I feel bad.”

“Soonyoung, you kissed Yujin. It’s not the end of the world.” You say pointedly, feeling him get up and crowd your space. You feel his lips press to your damp shoulder, “You say that, but I feel like I betrayed you or something.”

Scoffing, you turn, tucking the corner of your towel under your armpit. “You fuck plenty of other girls. Why is kissing Yujin any different?”

“I only kiss you.” He says, making you roll your eyes. “I’m supposed to believe you?”

“Yes. I only kiss you when we fuck. I only kiss you in general. I don’t kiss the other girls, not that there have been many since this started.” He states matter-of-factly, and you struggle not to roll your eyes again. “You send me your STD results every few weeks, Soonyoung. That means there are other girls.”

“There hasn’t been for a few months. I just get tested regularly because it’s a habit. And they give me free condoms and lube so I save money.” He shrugs, making you scoff out a laugh.

“Soonyoung—”

“Stop, I don’t like it when you call me that.”

You eye him, “That’s your name.”

He shakes his head, “Not to you, it’s not. You only call me that when you’re mad.” His fingers push your hair off your face, and it takes all your willpower not to lean into his touch. He notices your internal struggle, curling his fingers around the shell of your ear, playing with your piercings carefully.

“I don’t want you to see other people.” He blurts, making your eyes go wide before you furrow your brows. Crossing your arms across your chest, you frown. “You see other people.”

“Then punish me for it. I’ll even let you tie me to the radiator again.” He’s flushing beet red, his hand now toying with a loose thread on your towel. It’s oddly reminiscent of your first (or…second) time together. “I’ll even leave you alone for a few weeks, if you want. I won’t fuck anyone else, either.”

You feel a bit taken aback at his offers, knowing that Soonyoung wouldn’t bring any of it up if he didn’t truly feel as though he’d wronged you. “Soonyoung, I really mean it. I’m not upset.”

You’re lying, but you also know his form of apologizing is just way too sincere. You can’t, in good faith, let him simmer in the guilt any longer. Probably why he didn’t speak to you for a week.

He doesn’t reply, opting to glance at the corner of your towel. He reaches for it, his eyes meeting yours as if asking for permission. You blink in response, untucking the towel on your own accord. He hesitates as his knuckles brush the skin of your hips, making you shiver. The towel drops as he leans in to kiss you, and you notice you don’t mind the slightly chapped lips.

He kisses you deeply, like he wants you to know his innermost feelings. His arm circles around your waist, pulling you flush to him as his other hand holds your face gingerly. “I’m sorry, kitty.” He murmurs against your lips, not bothering to allow you to respond as he reconnects your lips, walking backwards towards your bed.

His knees hit the edge of the bed, and he sits, pulling you onto his lap. The soft material of his sweatpants tented up around his cock, brushing against your center as you lean the two of you back, his back hitting your comforter. He maneuvers the two of you fully onto the bed, his head resting against your pillows as you lick into his mouth. His fingers circle your upper thighs, urging you to lift yourself up.

“What’s wrong?” You scan his eyes, feeling him push you further, your hands now on either side of his head. “I wanna show you how sorry I am. Sit on my face, suffocate me.”

You hadn’t done this yet. He’d asked in sessions past, but you’d been a bit hesitant. “What about you, though? I don’t—”

“Don’t worry about me.” He kisses you softly again, fingers tapping the backs of your thighs to urge you higher. “Are you sure?”

“If I die, I die happy.” He shrugs, and you sigh as you inch up, before grabbing your headboard for moral support. You sink down slowly, feeling his nose bump your clit slightly. You hover for a moment, hearing him sigh before pulling you down the rest of the way.

His tongue is flat against your pussy, making you shiver and clench around nothing. He licks at you with precision, gathering your arousal before wrapping his lips around your clit with a soft suck. You bite back a whine, your hips grinding against his face involuntarily. He moans against you, digging his dull nails into your hips.

You continue rocking against him, soft moans from your lips as he eagerly takes whatever you give him. Your fingers card through his hair, tugging gently as you feel the heat start to pool in your belly. His hand wanders up, skilled fingers rolling your nipple between them at the same pace of your clit being swirled by his tongue.

“Soonie—” You whimper, canting your hips a little faster as he runs his hands all over your body, groaning against your pussy. Your thighs clench around his head as you cum, feeling slightly overstimulated as his tongue fucks into you slowly. You try to get up, but your shaky legs betray you as Soonyoung pulls you back down, the slurping sound from his mouth obscene as you twitch in his hold. “S’too much…”

Pushing his head back, you pry yourself out of his hold, shakily settling yourself next to him. You take a glance at him, his eyes closed as the back of his hand wipes his mouth. “Am I forgiven?”

“You were never in trouble, Soonie.” You roll your eyes, flopping your head against his shoulder. He scoffs, “You’re my best friend. I’m pretty sure I can tell when you’re upset with me.”

Hearing you huff, he knows he’s right. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You don’t need to finish?” You murmur, eyeing the strain of his cock against his sweatpants.

He shakes his head, “I don’t deserve it right now. I hurt you, and that was shitty of me.”

You sigh. “So what does this mean?”

“It means I want to be exclusive. You’re the only girl I hang out with, anyway.” He shrugs, a pained look on his face as adjusts himself in his pants. You feel some guilt settle in your stomach at this, and you shake your head. “I don’t think we should keep doing this, actually.”

He glances down at you, before you sit up and slide off your bed. You move back to your dresser, digging out random clothes and pulling them on as he stares.

“What?”

“I want to focus on school.” You wince as the sentence slips past your lips. It wasn’t a lie, you did want to — but it was also because he’d be your TA next semester. Better to cut the cord now than continue to put yourselves at risk of being found out.

“So you’re…what? Are we still friends?”

You look over at him, an obviously hurt expression on his face as he brings his knees to his chest. “Of course we’re still friends, Soonie.”

He nods, tonguing his cheek as he stands up. “Sure thing. I’m sorry if my expectations made you uncomfortable.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes as he grabs his shoes at the door, and you blink at him.

“You’re not…You’re leaving?” You gape, and he gives you a quizzical look. “What, did you want to cuddle?”

It doesn’t have any malice behind it. His tone is level, it’s friendly. But you can’t help and feel a bit small at his words. He gives you a curt nod. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

And he closes the door behind him. You scoff out a breath, feeling a tear spill down your cheek as you run your hands through your hair. It’s still damp at the roots, and you just shake your head to yourself as you remember the bag he set on your desk.

You click your tongue at it, before ripping it open. It’s a Jellycat octopus in blue and a handmade card. It has doodles of fish all over it in colored pencil, and an angelfish holding a badly drawn tiger in the corner. You open it to see his handwriting messily scrawled across the cardstock.

Hi, Kitty.

I assume by this point you’ve seen the photos on BTOU, and I’m sorry that I’ve been avoiding you all week. I saw them on Wednesday morning right when I was going to leave to ask if you wanted to get breakfast with me, so I made the dumbass decision to just ghost entirely. It was an asshole move and I’m sorry.

I did want to talk to you, though. And it’s totally fine if you don’t agree, I just figured I’d give it a shot?

The two of us are…relatively close. I mean, I can’t think of anyone I trust more than you…you’ve seen me in various stages of my life. Uhm, I’m not ready for a relationship but I’m also unsure if we’re on the same page about that, so I wanted to ask if we could, for the rest of the year, make this an exclusive…situation? I don’t see other people and neither do you?

I guess that’s like dating. We can talk about it more in person, if you want. Maybe we can come to a consensus and I don’t know. But you get me, right? You always get me.

Anyway. I’m sorry. And I hope you’ll accept this card and the little octopus guy as a token of my sincere appreciation for you. I named him Inky Minaj, but feel free to change it.

Yours (hopefully),

Hoshi ♡🐯

You don’t realize you’re crying until you see a tear drop right onto his doodle of a tiger next to his name. The octopus stares back at you, and you sniffle as you put it on your bed.

This is for the best. It has to be. Kwon Soonyoung cannot like you and you cannot like him.

January 13th.

“Hello, everyone! I am Professor Kwon, and this is Zoology!”

The dreaded class was finally here.

You and Soonyoung were a bit awkward at first — sure, the initial sting of rejection made him distance himself a bit, but he got over it pretty quickly. He came over to the house often, bringing takeout with him and new documentaries he’d rented from the university’s library. He always stayed at least a foot away from you — in early December, he’d accidentally kissed you in greeting, leading the rest of the hangout to be full of unresolved tension.

So much so that he left early.

Aside from that incident, it was like the two of you had never seen each other naked. You both scrunched your noses at your friends’ jabs, leaving them with confused looks. Minghao was the one to tell the frat brothers the news that the two of you were no longer sleeping together.

Minghao also knew that you had a raging heart boner for Soonyoung. He was all you’d talked about in the passing weeks — Minghao even subjected his family to your babble about Soonyoung when he answered your FaceTime calls over winter break. He sighed as you droned on about the man, but allowed it anyway.

“This is my Teacher’s Assistant, Kwon Soonyoung. You will be seeing more of him than of me this year, I have a very crammed schedule. This being said, Soonyoung will go through the syllabus with you and the first lesson of the semester. I will be here on Wednesday, so don’t fret! You still get to have one-on-one time with me.” Professor Kwon smiles, and you glance at Soonyoung, who is already looking at you. You raise your brows, and he shrugs, making a smoking motion.

He’s stoned.

Professor Kwon bids her goodbyes, leaving a very stoned Soonyoung to take over her class. A few girls in the front (that you don’t recognize) are giggling as he passes out the paper syllabus.

“Kitty.” He murmurs with a soft smirk as he slides your paper on your desk, and you scowl. “Shut up.”

He just smiles as he starts walking around and talking about the syllabus — how you can only miss six classes this semester but if you’re nice, he’ll count you present anyway. How his favorite lesson is the one about the three-spined stickleback fish, and how it’s refreshed at least three or four times throughout the course. He talks about how he fully believes that the Bubonic Plague was an experiment made by the government to kill innocent rodents and that his office hours are generally whenever, just shoot me an email.

The class wraps up rather quickly, with Soonyoung assigning reading based on the ethology of geese. You snort at it, hiking your bag over your shoulder as everyone starts to file out. He grabs your elbow as you walk past him, earning a few looks from the girls who had been giggling earlier — and drapes his arm over your shoulders as the two of you saunter out together.

“What the fuck was that for?” You ask as he walks the both of you towards your place, and he shrugs. “They were staring a little hard.”

“What, so I’m your saving grace?” You roll your eyes, but don’t push him away as he tucks you further into his chest. Soonyoung had always been touchy, so you didn’t care. “Of course. I don’t want to deal with a bunch of sophomores hitting on me.”

“Oh, because Kwon Soonyoung, frat boy and resident weed dealer is sooo desirable.” You mock, and he snorts. “I mean, you fucked me for a year, I would hope I’m desirable.”

You elbow him right in the ribs, making him let out a pained noise as he smacks your arm lightly. “What’d you do that for?! I’m not wrong!”

“Whatever! Anyway, are you going to the stoplight party this weekend? We’re hosting.” You ask, fishing your phone out of your pocket to send him the invite. “Oh, I’m not sure. I'm gonna take Seungkwan out for dinner on Thursday, and I’m probably hanging out with Luda on Saturday.”

He stretches, and you feel your stomach sink.

Lee Luda was what the campus referred to as a frat sweetheart. Her family had a huge legacy of going to SNU, and her father actually owned the property where the Alpha Psi Delta fraternity house was built. She was very close with the entire fraternity and had been involved in their charity and party planning since she was a freshman, her ex-boyfriend being a junior and her brother a senior when she was elected.

She was very sweet, very smart and extremely pretty. You'd gotten to know her a bit last year, she was a Biology major and you shared a lot of the same courses.

“Oh. They’re throwing a birthday party for Juyeon, right?” You nod as he does the same, before looping your arms together. “Come on, I’ll treat you to lunch and you can tell me how good I did on my first day as your TA.”

“What is it with you and ratings?”

He just laughs, pulling you closer again. You pretend your cheeks don’t burn at the proximity and the soft scent of his cologne.

January 18th.

It seemed the first week back from holidays really did a number on the student body — nearly everyone who came to the stoplight party hosted by your sorority was white-girl wasted. Seungkwan profusely cried over the little cupcake you presented him, apologizing for his birthday being on a Thursday. He took it and you later found him with strawberry frosting all over his chin and mouth.

It was well past two in the morning, and the party was still going pretty strong. You, Momo and Yerin were running around topping off drinks and manning stations, and you had sent Chan and Minghao to get more liquor from the store down the road. They were the only sober ones amongst the Beta Tau brothers, and Mingyu was dancing on the coffee table with Wonwoo and Jun — all of them wasted off Pink Whitney.

That damn Pink Whitney.

You roll your eyes as you clean up, humming along to Kid Cudi when you sense a disturbance in the force.

“Hey!” You hear someone shout over the music, and you turn to see Soonyoung, Luda and Juyeon next to you. Soonyoung and Luda have grabbed yellow cups, and Juyeon has a red one. You see a few more of the Delta brothers stroll in behind them, helping themselves to the alcohol on your table.

“Hey! What’re you guys doing here? I thought you were celebrating Juyeon!” You shout back, and Luda shrugs. “Yeah, well Sangyeon and Hyunjae said you guys were having a stoplight! You don’t mind, right? Hyunjae said you were cool!”

You shake your head, gesturing to the bottles. “Not at all! Help yourselves, but Minghao and Chan should be back soon with more Malibu and Svedka.”

Luda gives you a cheery smile and grabs for the Everclear, and you bid the men behind her a quick goodbye as you continue into the kitchen to clean up. You grimace at the sight of vomit in the corner by your pantry, and you open your fridge to get out some baking soda when you see Soonyoung’s feet in front of you.

You glance up at him, seeing a quizzical look as you grab the baking soda. “What’s up, Hosh?” You ask, before squatting by the vomit to sprinkle the baking soda on it.

“You’re wearing red!” He says, gesturing to your red dress. You look down at the dress you were wearing — you’d bought it last year, and wore it to his birthday dinner. He’d stared at you the entire evening before dragging you out to his car and fucking you in the parking lot.

Safe to say that neither of you went back into the restaurant.

“Oh, this? I just don’t feel like flirting tonight.” You shrug, and he leans against the counter when you speak again. “You have a yellow cup! Why?”

“Seeing someone here and there.” He shrugs, and you nod, choosing to swallow your questions. When the fuck did he even find the time?

“Nice!” You exclaim, putting the wet sign over the vomit and deciding to deal with it later. You stand, tugging your dress down your legs a bit more before giving him a curt nod and exiting the kitchen.

Minghao and Chan had arrived and helped Yerin and Momo haul in the liquor, stacking it across the table in the dining area. Hyunjae and Sangyeon had joined Vernon, Jihoon and Seokmin in playing beer pong on the second floor, and you hauled ass up the stairs to join in. Vernon is holding a lit joint between his fingers as he makes the bitch cup, a scowl on his face as Sangyeon chuckles.

“Hey, Vern. Can I take a hit?” You tap his shoulder, and he hands it to you before ruffling your hair. “Hey, pretty. Why’re you here? Not having fun downstairs?”

“Shut up and drink your bitch cup.” You roll your eyes, and he smirks as he downs the cup. He rearranges his cups into a different shape, and Sangyeon sinks a few as you finish off Vernon’s spliff.

“Damn, what’s got you so stressed out?” He asks, taking what's left and popping it between his lips. “Ugh, nothing. I’m just annoyed.” You roll your eyes as their game ends, and you grab a few beer cans to start a new one.

“I didn’t know you were dating someone, Y/N!” You hear Hyunjae call from the end of the table, and you just smile and shake your head. “I’m not! I just don’t feel like dry humping a stranger tonight.”

“I’m not a stranger.” Sangyeon says, and you look up at him. He’s peering at you over his cup, the green reflecting off his silver watch. “You’re right.” You shrug, and finish pouring the cups.

“Way to be subtle.” Vernon rolls his eyes, and you smirk. “Don’t worry, Nonnie. You’ll find someone tonight.” Pinching his cheek, you shove him with your hip and settle between him and Jihoon, who steadies you with his hand ghosting over your back. Seokmin makes the first shot for the other team, the ball bouncing into the first cup.

You play for a bit, grimacing every time you down the cups of beer. Eventually, you decide it’s time to just chill in the lounge, and Sangyeon, Jihoon and Hyunjae agree. Seokmin and Vernon admit they’re probably going to raid the fridge for snacks, and you give them a go-ahead as the other men follow you up to the lounge on the third floor.

You see a few of your sisters there, including Jennie and one of the graduated Beta Tau Sigma brothers, Taehyung. They’re canoodling on one of the beanbags, and she glances up at you as you flop onto the couch on the other side of the room.

“Hey, Y/N.” She calls gently, and you look up to see her holding her thumb up, moving it down to see how you’re feeling. You hold a thumbs up, and she nods, returning to her boyfriend. The guys that came with you are sprawled across the floor, with Sangyeon being the only one on the couch with you.

“The room is spinning.” Hyunjae pouts, and you let out a laugh when you hear the door open, looking up to see Vernon and Seokmin with their hands full of snacks, and Soonyoung in after them. He holds up a bag of pre-rolls, and you hold your hand out.

“Is that how you ask, kitty?” Soonyoung rolls his eyes, fishing one out as you kneel on the couch, pushing the window behind you open. He tugs your skirt down a bit, and you turn back around to see him lighting the joint for you. “It’s lemon balm. I know you like those the best.”

“Thanks, Kwon.” You nod, taking it between your fingers as he sits on the floor, moving his head to be cradled by your knees. Your heels dig into his chest, and he peels off your shoes and tossed them to the side. Jennie and Taehyung slip out, with Jennie giving you a thumbs up once more. Once you mirror it, she’s out.

The group is quiet, seemingly trying to come down from their drunkenness when Sangyeon speaks. “Why kitty?”

“Huh?” Soonyoung looks up, and Sangyeon takes a sip from his cup. “You called Y/N kitty. Why?”

“Oh. I was a cat at the Halloween party we met at.” You shrug, and you notice Soonyoung’s brows furrow a bit. “That, and she has a kitty tattooed on her hip.”

You swat his shoulder, making him giggle when Sangyeon nods with wide eyes. “And how do you know that?”

“They used to fuck.” Vernon speaks up, popping a cheese curl into his mouth with the utmost nonchalant shrug. You gape at him, and he shoots you a wink. “Thanks, Hansol. Air out my business, why don’t you?”

“Okay. She also-”

Jihoon claps his hand over Vernon’s mouth, and you roll your eyes as you offer the joint around the group. Hyunjae declines, handing it to Sangyeon. He gives you a glance, seeing you’re already looking at him.

"Isn't Hoshi the Zoology TA? Can't you guys get in some kind of trouble for that?" Hyunjae calls from the floor, making Soonyoung roll his eyes and Sangyeon clears his throat next to you. You glance at him, a stoney look on your face as you gesture to the lit joint in his hand. You're sure they want an answer – but if Soonyoung doesn't say anything, you sure as shit won't.

Taking the hit, Sangyeon passes it back to you and blows the smoke up and out. “That’s really smooth. Do you make these yourself, Hosh?”

“Yeah. It’s just a hobby.” He shrugs, lighting his own up and holding it between his lips. You roll your eyes, “This is also the same guy who rescues kittens for freshmen, teaches a dance class from seven to eight and a self-defense class from eight to nine every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Oh, that’s actually pretty cool. How much do you sell for?” Sangyeon asks, his eyes a little lower as he looks at you instead of Soonyoung, who is glaring. “I don’t, it’s free.”

“I tell him that he’s a horrible business magnate, Mr. President.” You tilt your own joint at him, and he smiles. “Mr. President?”

“Yeah! Aren’t you the Alpha Psi Delta President? I thought I heard about that from Luda last year.” You rest your head on the couch cushion, and notice the way he bites his lip as his eyes trail your body, before he meets your eyes with a nod.

You’re not the only one who notices.

Clearing his throat, Vernon tries to cut the weird tension in the air. “How about we play a game? Truth or dare, or something?”

“I’m the only girl up here, you better not make me do weird shit or your ass is grass.” You threaten, making him smile widely. “Why, I’d never—”

“Shut up, you were the same one who dared her to streak last year.” Seokmin shoves Vernon, and the group hears the door open — Luda, Minghao and Chan trail in with Yerin and Momo in tow.

“Hey, guys!” Luda greets, and you feel Soonyoung nearly rip himself away from you to greet her. “Hey, Lu.”

“What’re we doing up here?” She asks, taking a seat next to Soonyoung. You grimace inwardly, before feeling Sangyeon’s hand on your knee. He gives you a look that says fix your face, and you inch closer to him now that Soonyoung is literally feet away from you.

“We were gonna do a round of truth or dare.” Jihoon pipes up from the floor, and you smile as the guy covers his eyes. Luda grins, “I’m in! Who’s gonna start?”

You wait until everyone settles, but you catch Minghao’s eyes. He gives you a confused look, his gaze darting to Sangyeon’s hand on your lap. You give him a hard look, and he just shakes his head as Hyunjae sits up to start the game.

“Okay, Luda.” He clears his throat, and she sits up at the sound of her name. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Boring!” Momo pipes up, and a soft giggle spreads through the group. Sangyeon inches a little closer to you, his thigh now touching yours as he rests his hand a little higher on your leg. It’s subtle enough. “What’s your body count?”

She snorts. “Four. Isn’t yours in the double digits?” She teases Hyunjae, who scoffs. “Uh, not that it’s any of your business, but my body count is three.”

The group laughs again, and you find yourself leaning your head against Sangyeon, who props his arm behind you. “Okay, uhm…Y/N!”

You hear Luda call your name, and you give her a wiggle of your brows. “Hit me.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Let’s go…truth. I’ll play it safe.” You shrug, and she smiles. Almost like a cheshire cat, like she knows all your secrets. “Would you sleep with anyone in this room?”

You look around, getting a suggestive brow wiggle from Seokmin and bursting into laughter. “Yeah. I mean, I have. It wouldn’t be weird, I think.”

“Oh, really? Who?” She probes, and you shake your finger at her. “It’s Truth or Dare, not Truth and Explain Yourself.”

She laughs, and you look around the room for your target. “Vernon, truth or dare?”

“I’ll bite, give me a dare.” He pops another cheese curl in his mouth, and you feel your lips tug up at the corners. “I dare you to text Jisun and tell her your feelings for her.”

“Is this payback for last year? It was either that or skinny dipping.” He says pointedly, and you only shrug. “Text her or you’re a wimp.”

“It’s like, twenty degrees outside, Y/N. What if I just streak and risk getting pneumonia?” He feigns distress, and you feel Sangyeon’s fingers gently caressing your shoulder. Is this foreplay?

“Alright, we can do a dare for a dare. Give me something to do, and if I chicken out, you don’t have to text her.” You take a hit of your joint, leaning forward and feeling Sangyeon’s arm fall down your back, fingers now holding your hip lightly. Vernon sees this, clicking his tongue. “Fine. I dare you to makeout with Sangyeon.”

You blink at Vernon, hearing the group collectively ooooh. You scoff, “That’s it? That’s tame as hell, Hansol.”

“You can’t fuck him.” He states, and you smile. “I’m only a woman, Vernon. I have needs.”

“Is anyone going to ask Sangyeon if he’s okay with that?” Luda interjects, and you can sense a bit of a bite in her tone. Sangyeon shrugs, ��If Y/N’s cool then I’m cool.”

“How will we even know if they made out? They could lie.” She tries, and you smile at her. “I’m not shy, if you want to watch or something.” You tease, watching her cheeks turn beet red. She shakes her head, and Vernon gives you a pointed look.

“So? What do you say, pipsqueak?”

“Prepare to admit your feelings to the love of your life, Chwe.”

You get up, tugging Sangyeon up with you. You feel a pair of eyes on you, but when you glance over your shoulder, you see Soonyoung glaring at the two of you as you open the door. “We’ll be back.”

You lead him to your bedroom down the hall, hearing him clear his throat as you push the door open and are met with darkness. You fumble with the lamp on your desk for mood lighting, and he smiles down at you.

“We don’t have to.” He murmurs, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. His fingers aren’t as soft as Soonyoung’s. You shake your head, “If you’re down, I’m down. It’s been a while.”

He just smiles, tilting your head to meet your lips halfway. His lips are softer…you kind of miss the chapped feeling. You sigh into the kiss, your hands moving to his waist as he moves the two of you towards your bed. His hands trail down your waist, cupping your ass as he falls back onto your bed, pulling you on top of him. He groans softly as you adjust in his lap, and you feel his hips cant up.

"Sorry, sorry." He mumbles, making you laugh. "Eagerness is never a bad thing." The kissing is fine. It's a little desperate, a little messy as you grind down on him, but it's not Soonyoung. You pull away, a pout on your lips as the heady feeling of him against your core fills your head. "Not into it, huh?" He asks, and a part of you thinks he's admitting to it, too.

"You like Luda, don't you?" You ask pointedly, and his eyes go wide. "How the fuck–" "Kind of hard not to notice when she's jumping the gun to save you from my grasp." You laugh, rolling off him to stare at your ceiling. Your arm brushes something soft, and you glance up to see the Jellycat octopus from Soonyoung, Inky Minaj.

"How long did you and Hoshi sleep together?" He asks, and you sigh. "About a year. We were playing some stupid game of cat and mouse for my first three years as a student here, then we fucked at the Halloween rager the frat holds every year. Neither of us remembered it, so we fucked the next morning and the rest is history."

He looks at you, and you peer at him through low eyes. "What?" "Nothing. Just kind of sounds like you like him." He says matter-of-factly, and you snort. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. I kind of lied to myself for a while. I guess…I think once I realized that maybe he was starting to like me, I stopped it. I don't know. And him being my TA for Zoology definitely made me want to tread lightly."

He nods, shifting uncomfortably. "Luda slept with him a few weeks ago. Around my birthday, I think." You shoot up almost immediately, turning to face him. "Luda and Soonyoung slept together? When? When is your birthday?" His face contorts into one that speaks I fucked up. "You didn't know? I thought you guys were like, best friends?"

"When, Sangyeon?" You probe, slapping his knee as he grimaces. "I don't know, like the eighth of November? I was out of town." "That son of a bitch." You scoff, and stand up. "Well. Let's go. I need Vernon to hop off my dick about his feelings and hop on Jisun's about them." "Maybe we should wait until you're not upset, Y/N." He says gently, and you groan. "I'm not upset, Soonyoung can fuck whoever he wants, whenever he wants. I'm not his keeper." "But you want to be, don't you?" He says pointedly, and you huff in response. "Come on, Mr. President. I've got a point to prove, and it's that I don't need Kwon Soonyoung to get laid." "We all already know that, pretty." He rolls his eyes, allowing you to lead him out. He shuts your door, and makes it a big show of fixing your skirt and wiping his lips of your gloss as you open the door to the lounge. Soonyoung and Luda are draped across the couch, and you lock eyes with him the moment you step inside the room. Minghao, unable to read the room for the first time, turns and cheers.

"Woo! How was it?" He asks, taking a swig from the bottle of Pink Whitney that somehow made its way upstairs. "Pretty good." You admit shyly, feeling Sangyeon sit on the ground with you. He pulls you onto his lap, and you give Vernon a knowing look.

"You gotta do it, Chwe." "Oh, come on! You hate me!" "I don't hate you, but I sure am tired of hearing you mope about Jisun." "How are you even coherent right now? You had two spliffs and a shitload of beer." You smile, wiggling your fingers for his phone. "Give it here, Chwe." He groans, handing it over to you. You unlock it, not unable to shake Soonyoung's eyes off you. You know he's eyeing the man holding you, because he shifts under you and even brushes the hem of your dress. You smirk to yourself as you scroll to Vernon's conversation with Jisun, seeing a pre-drafted message sitting in the text box.

Msg To: Roh Jisun (the loml who doesn't know she's the loml yet)

[4:31am] hi jisun. i just wanted to say that uhh i've liked you for a while and i know it's late (or early….wtv you prefer) and i do not expect you to answer this at all (because i'm a wimp) but if it's not a bother, i'd like to take you out. to dinner, maybe, or whatever you'd like to do. i know you like making jewelry, though, i know this cool jeweler in the city who does like,,,classes. maybe? sorry this is so awkward i'm nervous.

You read over it, and look at Vernon. He's blushing deeply, and you smile softly. "Just send it, Nonnie." "What if she says no?" "What if she says yes?" Momo speaks up, and you see her also taking a sip from the bottle of Pink Whitney. The group echoes her, and Vernon sighs. "Okay, fine. Fine! I'll send it and if she says no I'll just…act normal." He turns the screen to face everyone, pressing send with his ring finger and fully launching the phone across the room. "Well! That's that!" He smiles, reaching for the bottle of Pink Whitney and taking a long drink.

"Who's next?"

February 7th.

Zoology with Soonyoung was not nearly as bad as you thought it was going to be. He stayed true to his word – if you were cool, he marked you present. If you were a douche, he marked you absent. His office hours were erratic, and you found it increasingly difficult to get a hold of him for the first few classes. He was always helping another classmate, or busy with his classes at the dance studio.

In other news, Sangyeon was avoiding you like the fucking plague. You'd waved at him a few days after the party, when you noticed a bruise blooming on his cheekbone. He greeted you quickly, before leaving you practically in the dust. Luda was also increasingly cold to you, but you just assumed it was over one of the boys – whether it was Soonyoung or Sangyeon was beyond you.

Vernon actually managed to woo Jisun. She was charmed by his general awkwardness, and when she texted you about it, you laughed and told her that it was the most outward emotion you'd seen him exude since you'd known the guy. She laughed and said he was sweet, and that she'd let you know how the date went. Vernon screamed in your messages about it and stated "I hope you get the best head in the world."

Speaking of getting the best head in the world, you finally caught Soonyoung in the hallway today, asking him if you could have an impromptu study session in the library later. He sighed, checking his watch and agreeing rather reluctantly. You grimaced, and told him you didn't have to ask him, you could very well just join the Zoology study group that met twice a week.

He apologized and said he'd book the study room for five, and that he'd meet you there.

Well, it's now six and the two of you have done nothing but bicker. You'd asked about Lorenz and what he meant about the transposibility of key stimuli, to which he'd just scoffed and said that you'd know all about key stimuli.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" You spit, and he just shook his head. "Whatever. Key stimuli is just something that can trigger specific sensory information in an animal's brain. So certain shapes, colors, sounds, even gestures and behaviors can trigger an animal to act in a certain manner." You sucked your teeth, jotting down his words before speaking. "Do you know what happened to Sangyeon?" He almost snaps his neck looking up at you, brows furrowed as he shakes his head. "No? Why does that even matter, aren't we supposed to be studying?" You raise a brow at him, "Why are you so defensive, dude? I'm just asking you if you know what happened. He and Luda have been avoiding me like I have lice." "Get a monkey." He shrugs, looking back down at his phone. He's scrolling mindlessly, and you huff as you put down your pen. "Alright. What's the problem, Soonyoung?" He winces slightly, before shaking his head. "Don't know what you mean. Do you understand now? Or do you still need to understand the difference between key stimuli and releasers? People have been asking all week about that." You frown, feeling your throat a bit tight as you sit up. "Why are you acting like this?" You murmur, and he must hear something in your voice that makes him look up. "Acting like what?" "Like you can't stand to be in the same room as me." "That's not true." He rolls his eyes, and you scoff. "It sure seems like it. I ask you a question about class, you're rude. I mention Sangyeon and Luda, you're annoyed and irritated. Did I do something? Are you upset with me?" It seems your prodding has been more of you poking the bear, because he sucks his teeth and slides his phone onto the table. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am upset with you. And you did do something." "Okay? So tell me what it is so we can fix it." You state, and he laughs dryly. "We? There is no we in you and Sangyeon making out like a pair of lovesick idiots at the stoplight party. He was practically eye fucking you the entire time you were together."

"I don't see what the hell that has to do with you, Soonyoung." You retort, and he shakes his head. "I just don't understand why you'd make me feel like there was something between us and then go and make out with some other guy. He likes Luda, you know, so it's not like it would have gone anywhere." His tone is bitter, and you can recognize he's saying all of this to hurt your feelings. Maybe because he's hurt, and he feels disappointed in his own choices. Nonetheless, it gets under your skin and hits just the right bullseye for you to explode.

"Where the fuck do you get off telling me what I can and can't do with my life, Soonyoung? You and I both agreed that this wasn't mutually exclusive, and Sangyeon and I just made out! You and I haven’t even fucked since we stopped last year, so I don't understand why your panties are in a twist!" You exclaim, and he scoffs out a breath of disbelief.

"You know what, maybe this entire thing was a fucking mistake. I should've never asked for there to even be an 'us', because if I knew I was going to feel this way knowing that you can just do whatever or whoever you want–" You cut him off before he can finish. "Is that what you think I'm doing? I've literally rejected so many people in just the past year because you were acting like you couldn't live without me! So what if I kissed Sangyeon? So what if I did? Forgive me for thinking that maybe you changed your mind about me and how you felt about me after you slept with Luda! You're not the only one who felt led on, you know?!" Your breathing is heavy as you finish yelling, with Soonyoung blinking at you, ears red. "You know about that?" His voice is almost ashamed. Almost.

"If you didn't want to make this an exclusive thing, or make the people around us think we were together, you should've stopped pulling me into random bedrooms to fuck and kissing me in the kitchen of the frat. Maybe don't buy me a Jellycat Octopus and say you want to be exclusive with me if you're just going to pull this sort of shit." You feel tears sting your eyes as you rip your bag off the chair in front of you, feeling your throat tighten as you grab your remaining things off the table. "Y/N-" "You know, it may be taking you five years to finish your degree, but I want to finish mine on time. Have a good life, Soonyoung. Don't call me." You spit, watching his jaw drop slightly before tightening. "I won't." "Good." "Great." "Fine."

He watches as you slam the door behind you, feeling his stomach sink damn near into the ground as he sees the sweater you were wearing still hanging across the back of your chair. "Fine."

February 14th.

It'd been a week since your fight with Soonyoung.

He'd unfollowed you on Instagram, and seemingly decided to pretend as though you didn't exist. He didn't acknowledge you if you were over at the frat for Minghao, and he certainly didn't speak to you. You'd asked him to pass you the salt when you'd gone over yesterday for a Valentine's dinner party with the brothers, and he just left the table without a word. It was embarrassing enough that you asked Minghao to walk you home.

What you didn't know was that the fellow girlfriends of his frat brothers spoke to him about his behavior. Sana and Jisun called Sowon over FaceTime and even had Seungcheol talk to him, and he stood there and took the scolding like a puppy with his tail between his legs. Seungcheol told him that his behavior towards you wasn't going to get you to forgive him, much less be with him and that he understood that Soonyoung felt negatively about your actions – but that Soonyoung cannot be upset about it because he had his chance and he blew it by making out with Yujin at the Halloween party.

Talk about key stimuli. Bad behavior does not get rewarded.

He'd been left with his own thoughts after that, and he stared at all the little trinkets he had that reminded him of you. The sweater you left in the library was hung over his desk chair, and it still smelled of your citrusy perfume. The piggy bank you got him for his birthday was sitting on his bookshelf, still stuffed full with new bills you put in before giving it to him. You'd also given him a few items of clothing that reminded you of him, one of which being an oversized black sweater with your initials embroidered in the sleeve. He frequently wore it unless he was sure he'd be seeing you.

He didn't know why. It just felt nice to…feel like he belonged to you.

"Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!" He's standing in front of the class, and the sophomore girls in the front of the room coo at his cheerfulness. You're sitting behind them, a sour expression on your face as he dims the lights, a baggy navy cardigan draped over your shoulders. You didn't like that one as much as the one you'd left in the library.

"In honor of this pseudo holiday, we're going to go over the most romantic of animals. Consider this a free class, because this is definitely not on the syllabus or in the curriculum, I just like to talk about it." He smiles, and the group of girls aww again, and you make a face as he turns the projector to the next slide.

"Naturally, you have the ones you've heard of the most. Penguins, seahorses, swans, and doves. Shit, even elephants are said to mate for life, and become extremely depressed if their lover suddenly passes or, in some cases, just up and leaves. But my favorite?"

He changes the slide, seeing your eyes widen as your favorite fish fills the screen.

"The French Angelfish mate for life. Monogamy isn't usually practiced amongst observed populations of fish, though. So much so that there is an analogy called the Fish Love Analogy. This is when your partner can meet all your needs, both emotional and physical, but ultimately only turns into an object of desire." You frown at this, but he changes the slide.

"French Angelfish are rarely seen alone, as once they've mated, they're inseparable. It's really quite beautiful and it proves that animals are sentient beings." He smiles slightly, looking around to see everyone jotting down notes.

"What about you, Soonyoung? Do you believe in that stuff?" One of the sophomore girls speaks up, and he shrugs. "I do, yes. I think it's a beautiful thing, to fall in love and have that person forever. I think as humans, though, we forget to cherish what we have. That's why the rate of divorce is so high." You roll your eyes.

"Do you think you've found your forever, Soonyoung?" Another one of the girls asks, and he sighs. "You know, I have. I have found her, but I'm also a human that doesn't know how to cherish good parts of life. Animals are just wired to operate in a certain way, but giving humans free will has truly affected us as a society." He scoffs, earning a laugh from the class.

You're not smiling, but he sees your lips twitch slightly.

"What if she's not your Angelfish, though?" Someone from behind you speaks up, and he purses his lips. His eyes find yours, and he can practically feel them pierce through him.

"I doubt that she's not."

He turns back to the slides, proceeding to talk about how humans have romanticized doves and swans to be representative of love. He finishes the slides quickly, bidding everyone a happy Valentine's day once more and earning echoes of the girls telling him they hope he and his Angelfish figure it out. He thanked them, hitching his backpack over his shoulder as he held the door open for them.

He looks over them, spotting you still gathering your materials. You glance up at him, a silent communication of please wait for me from your eyes. He does, he waits as you walk down the steps and tug your cardigan around you tightly. He remembers when you bought it, he was with you and you were actually wearing the same dress you have on now, the long skirt now paired with platform boots so it doesn't drag on the floor. You slip out in front of him, and wait a few feet away as he locks the door. You stare at the floor as he falls into pace next to you, albeit a few feet behind. You're leading the way to somewhere, he notes, because you're not headed towards the frat or your place. He follows silently, never closing the gap between you as you turn into the veterinary hallway.

The graduating class last year had raised enough money to install an aquarium for viewing pleasure. It had all sorts of fish – including angelfish. You stopped in front of it, with him lingering a few feet behind and watching from afar. You point silently, the fish swimming past your hand and joining another.

"Which one are you?" You mumble, and he steps closer to you, but not enough to touch you. "Probably the male one." You snort, backing up slightly, your knuckles brushing as you clasp your hands behind your back.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, and he shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry." "Let's just agree we're both sorry." You shrug, and he sighs. "You shouldn't have to be sorry, though. I've always come off so strong, and I'm sorry if you felt like I was projecting my feelings onto you. You don't ever have to reciprocate if you don't want to." "Do you want me to?" You ask gently, watching the fish swim in circles. He hesitates, before nodding. "I don't think there is anything I want more." He murmurs, and you look at him out of the corner of your eye.

"Careful, I won't get you a gift for your birthday this year." You joke, but you see him sink slightly, before he's kneeling on the floor. "Soonyoung?" "I'm sorry I've been such an asshole, I know I don't deserve to be with you in any form." He hugs your knees, and you feel your cheeks flame as someone walks by you. "Soonyoung, get up." "Not until you forgive me." He squeezes your legs tighter, and a couple of girls walk by, gaping at the sight. "I forgive you! Just get up!" You grit, tugging his arm up and hurrying away from the hallway.

His eyes are teary as you pull him into a janitor's closet, making you scoff out a laugh as you wipe his eyes. "Oh, don't cry. I don't like seeing you cry." You say gently, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. His lips jut out in a pout as his hands come up to your wrists.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, and you roll your eyes. "Really?"

“Is that a no?” “I should make you grovel, honestly.” “I’m not above begging, you should know this.” “Just kiss me, you idiot.”

He does.

He does, and it's the warmest you'd felt in a long time. His lips are just as chapped as the last time he'd kissed you, his fingers just as soft as they held your face gently. You feel him press himself against you as his tongue slowly licks into your mouth. You play along, your fingers curling into his hair and tugging softly. He whines against your lips, making you smirk as you pull him away.

"Still wanna get on your knees?" You murmur, and he nods quickly as he sinks to his knees in front of you, and you clear your throat as he pulls your leg over his shoulder, pushing your skirt up to your hips. His breath is warm against your skin as he gasps, peering up at you from behind the bunched fabric. "You're not–" "You're about to yap yourself out of some ass, shut up." You roll your eyes, making him frown as his eyes disappear under your skirt, feeling his teeth nip at your thigh. You flinch, no longer used to his biting habits. "Be gentle." "Yeah, yeah. I don't tell you how to kiss other guys, don't tell me how to eat your pussy." He grumbles, and you go to argue before you feel his tongue circle your clit slowly. You sigh, feeling his free hand snake up to lace his fingers with yours. You hold his fingers tightly as he buries his face into your cunt, eagerly soaking up whatever you'll give him.

You cover your mouth with your free hand, feeling a bit of anxiety pool in your stomach as you hear students walk past the closet. He pulls you even closer, slurping obscenely when you hear someone stop in front of the door, murmured whispers and soft kissing sounds when the doorknob jiggles. You see Soonyoung's hand shoot to grab it, attempting to hold the door tightly shut as they pull.

He doesn't pull away when they yank the door open, leaving you to nearly topple as you yank your skirt down, hiding him beneath it. You're faced with Lee Chan and his girlfriend,Jung Haerim, lipstick smeared all over his face and neck as your own burns in embarrassment. His jaw drops, and you find yourself squirming away from Soonyoung's tongue as you shove him away.

Soonyoung pouts as he exits your skirt, a deep frown on his glistening lips as he looks at Chan. "Really, man?" "You're the one stealing my closet! You know this is my spot!" Chan argues as Soonyoung stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, your orgasm ruined and humiliation levels on 10. "You know, getting fucked in a mop closet shouldn't be something you're proud of." Soonyoung scoffs as he grabs your hand once more, tugging you out as Chan and Haerim blink at the two of you. She opens her mouth, holding up her finger before closing it, pressing her lips together. "Can't we just go to my place?"

"Should've thought of that earlier!" Soonyoung yells over his shoulder, picking up his pace as he hears Chan start after the two of you. You feel the awkward tension start to dissipate as you both bolt down the hallway, and you feel him take a sharp turn towards the fraternity. You hear Chan start yelling curse words before his footsteps stop, and the two of you just giggle to yourselves as you keep running towards the house.

Seeing the house come into view, the two of you quickly make your way up the steps and nearly slam into Seungcheol, who had come to visit (without anyone's knowledge.) He barely moves out of the way as you and Soonyoung barrel up the stairs, not even acknowledging a rather stoned Vernon and Jisun on the second floor landing before sliding into his room. It seemed both of you were on the same page about finishing what was started.

The room is full of clattering as you both undress, and your books are thrown to the side as his hands pull you to him before you both topple onto his bed. His lips are instantly on yours, but it's too chaste – and you hear him murmur something before he presses his lips to yours again.

"I love you." You scoff out a laugh, before you see the seriousness in his eyes. Blinking, you sit up a bit, your fingers trembling as you gently stroke his cheek. He nibbles his lip, and you can feel another laugh bubble in your throat. His ears tinge pink as you laugh, pulling him back down to your level, nuzzling your nose against his softly.

"I love you, too."

His eyes widen, and you swear he stops breathing before you tap him gently. "Hosh? You there?" He blinks, his hand tightens reflexively around your hip. "Yeah…I'm here."

You smile at him, tilting your head as you run your fingers through his hair. "You mean it, right? Do you love me?" "Let me be struck by Zeus himself if I'm lying."

The two of you laugh after a moment, and he swallows carefully. Neither of you make a move to get down to business, instead staring at each other like this was the last time you'd ever see each other. "You okay?" You murmur, and he shakes his head. "You love me." "You know, I figured it would be pretty obvious that I'd liked you well before we ever slept together." You say pointedly. "I'm still not forgiving you, though. You'll have to work for that." He quirks his brow at you, before pushing off you and flopping onto his back. You look at him, and he clears his throat. "M'lady, your throne awaits." "You're an idiot." "Your idiot, now come on. I've got to prove myself to you."

May 9th.

"Y/L/N Y/N."

Cheers are heard around the auditorium as your name is called, but not even your parents are as loud as your boyfriend amongst your graduating class. "THAT'S MY BABY!"

You feel your cheeks heat as everyone aw's and ooh's, hearing his fraternity brothers blow kazoos like idiots in the stands. The ceremony quickly came to an end as the last few names were called, the security attempting to diffuse crowds of people exiting. You found yourself looking for your boyfriend, finding him being embraced by Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua as his eyes searched for you.

Your relationship with Soonyoung was not perfect by any means. You nearly failed Zoology because he kept interrupting your studying to kiss you, often leading to other things before you would crawl out of his bed to your laptop on the desk, before being lured back in by your siren of a boyfriend. The two of you kept it under wraps best as you could, seeing if Professor Kwon found out (or anyone else, really) you could both get in trouble.

But, everyone seemed to finally be satisfied with the outcome. You and Soonyoung were set to go to grad school together, and everyone congratulated the two of you as you made your relationship official – posting each other freely on social media almost everyday. Coffee dates photographed on your story turned into study (and sex) sessions, his Instagram story was full of you in cute workout sets as you finally let him drag you to his Tuesday dance class. Your dashboard was full of him posting you as much as he could, captions of "my girlfriend!!!" and "me n u…get it? menu…#lovestagram" under a photo of the two of you at a diner.

Your sorority and his fraternity came together to host a graduation party for all the graduates, and you and Soonyoung were going to arrive together. You stare at him from your position near the doors, waiting for him to spot you. You'd both worn a soft pink under your white gowns, and his eyes scan the entire area before finally landing on you. He fights his way out of his friends' arms, and you hear him exclaim to them that he needs to find his girlfriend.

As he approaches you, you think of the tangled web that had been your relationship. A bit of jealousy wrapped in emotional unavailability and insecurities from the both of you, like a cricket held down by a spider's thread. You think about the chase, the game of cat and mouse that the two of you played as you kissed eagerly, a mess of tongues and spit before he'd have to slip away. You think about the first time he smoked you out, and how he'd laughed and held you tightly when you told him you felt like you were about to fall off the Earth.

You think about his growth as a person, about his growth as a man and his growth as your person. The person you found yourself drawn to since you'd stepped foot in Beta Tau Omega four years ago. The same person who bought you a new laptop and then took you out to dinner, the same person who immediately glued himself to you once he found out how much you had in common.

The same person who left when he felt like everything was too much by your side, only to admit his wrongs a year later and beg for your forgiveness on a roof in the middle of autumn. The same person who then slowly lured you into his sticky and tangled web of emotions and unspoken confessions, of kisses full of I love you and embraces screaming I missed you. The same person who said you're his angelfish, his person, his forever. The same person who realizes his mistakes and pushes his pride aside to apologize, even if it means the two of you end up a mess of spit and cum and tears. The same person who tells you now, every night, that he loves you and has done everything he can to prove it day by day.

"Hey, kitty." His smile is warm and full of mischief as his hand gently brushes your hair away from your face, revealing the earrings he gave you a few weeks ago. He thumbs at them softly, before pulling you in closely for a chaste kiss. You smile at him, knowing that this tangled mess is only the beginning of your forever with him. "Let's get out of here."

742 notes · View notes

yueying-notyingyue · 5 months ago

Text

waking up with seventeen

Seungcheol

obv the person who wakes up later than you

His hand rests gently across your waist all night, in a way that connects both your bodies until people that witness both of you would think you two are connected

His ass definitely has the energy to pull you back to bed if he finds out that you’re getting out of bed

Demands a morning kiss from you (with his stinky breath, he’s going to sulk if you don’t)

Such a clingy guy

The first lights of the day seeped into your shared bedroom anchoring themselves onto your lover’s face, with each ray caressing his well-defined cheekbones. After acknowledging debating to get out of the current situation you’re in, you struggled out of his grasp (for at least 15 minutes) before throwing the fluffy blankets off. Sleepy eyelids fluttering open, his mouth tumbled out a few incoherent words before ultimately deciding it was more effective to tug you back into the embrace of his arms. Eyes big and lips pouting, you knew what he meant, his morning kisses. Breath stinky and all, he knew how to use his face to his advantage. Leaning down from the awkward position he put you in, you quickly placed a quick peck on his cheek before demanding him to get up for your morning walk.

“But princess! It’s too early!” >:(

Jeonghan

Someone who would probably wakes up the same time as you

You see hannie’s a light sleeper I feel that the moment he feels you attempting to sit up he’s already looking up at you, eyes begging you to lie back down with him

Definitely lays down near to your chest listening to your heartbeat when you both get ready to sleep

when you guys wake up his head is still firmly attached to your chest, looking up at you with hazy eyes clouded with sleep

“Hannie we’ve got to wake up!” Although you’ve been whining for the umpteenth time, you didn’t dare to move an inch. Scared to shock him awake from his constant drifting in and out of sleep state, you resorted to slowly stroking his hair, that’ll surely wake him up right? Wrong. You both fell back asleep until midday. The blazing sun rays glared across the room, the burning sun rays making his hair seem ever so elegant. The tranquil quietness that hung in the atmosphere was broken once a call reverberated across the room. This was the fifth time this month that he was late to his dance practice. As he reluctantly pulls away, his sleepy ass has to hear your nagging about how half your day is gone while chiding him about being late. Smug grin plastered across his face; he doesn’t mind at all. After all, he had a restful sleep and much of your attention.

“But angel,” he whined indignantly while burying his face into his shoulder “it was so comfy getting to cuddle with you!”

Joshua

Someone who makes it a point to wake up early to go jogging and ensure half his day isn’t wasted

You see shua’s presence is like the early morning’s sun that shines through the window

I bet his embrace is so warm like going for a swim early in the morning and when you get out of the pool, the temperature is just right, not too cold not too scalding hot

I need someone like shua to hug me, i bet it’ll solve all my problems :(

Morning kisses are a habit you developed early in your relationship with him. So, whenever you guys have the chance to cuddle throughout the night, shua wakes you up by pecking your face.

Ticklish, I know.

But he’s someone who would love to disturb you for fun (in a loving way ofc).

This sweet baby would wake up early to train his body and to make breakfast for the two of you.

Nuzzling your face into his chest, his arms instinctively wrapped around your lower back, rubbing slow circles. A loose white t-shirt hanging off his body with a towel wrapped around his neck, he had just come back from his morning run and showered. The slow hum of the coffee machine added to the comfortable silence enveloping the two of you as he made breakfast. The slow morning coupled with the constant assurance that he wasn’t going anywhere made you ease up. It was so long since you last spent time together, you were not budging a single bit from his side so he resorted to lifting you up onto the kitchen counter (cliche ik) while pecking your face and see it scrunch up in pure delight, it had to be one of his favourite sights of you. The warm morning sun doing glory to your face.

“Darling calm down!” He giggled exasperatedly while pecking your face in between his speech “I’m not going anywhere calm down!”

Jun

Oh this sweet boy :(

He would be so eepy in the morning because both of you would take ages to get into a comfortable position to sleep

Furthermore, he is a member of the performance team, their dance practices diving deep into the night when everyone is asleep

You would have to wait for him to come home and do your night routine before finally tucking in and drifting off

The next day both of you would wake up real late past midday while practically clinging onto each other for dear life

I feel that he would wake up later than you due to exhaustion, hence you would have to make breakfast (or lunch) before he wakes up

Clingy baby pt2

“Umphhh” a sudden weight collapsed onto your shoulder, two long arms finding home by latching themselves onto your waist. A mess of hair tickling your neck as he nuzzled his face into your neck and pressed loving kisses against your shoulder blade. The height distance was gigantic, making him bend down awkwardly all the while trying to make himself feel comfortable. Giggling quietly, you nudged him to go sit down at the dining table so that he would feel more at rest. However, this sleepyhead would absolutely refuse to do so, insisting that the awkward position feels comfortable even though his neck aches really bad :( He insists that staying beside you was worth the ache in his neck. When he comes back from another taxing day, you would have to make it up to him by massaging his neck and back before repeating the same routine before the weekend finally comes around.

“Baby it's worth it I promise!” He whined while looking down at you, not listening to whatever you have to say as he makes his way back to your shoulder in refuge.

Hoshi

I’m pretty sure Hoshi jolts bolts of energy 24/7

Except on the days he comes back looking for refuge after a particularly draining day of never-ending dance practices

However, after a good night’s rest, he seems to have almost recharged completely

Waking up once the day’s first sun rays hit his eyelids, he practically bounces onto you while pecking your face in an attempt to wake you up

You would practically beg him for another 5 minutes of rest even though he would be bugging you throughout your well-deserved rest.

Clingy baby pt3

“Soonyoung you’ve got to stop waking me up!” you whined in your sleep, attempting to cover your ears with a pillow. However, Soonyoung being much much (MUCH) muscular than you, you’d find your pillow getting aggressively launched to the other side of the room while Soonyoung practically dives onto your body, nuzzling his cheek against your own. Seeing your boyfriend being in such peace and happiness made you realise. Oh, how much he loves you. Anyways, who are you to reject his cuddles when he looks this cute. Blankets tossed aside and some pillows getting absolutely thrashed onto the cold and hard floor, you shivered as the cold air caresses your skin, goosebumps instantly forming all over your skin. The warmth radiating for Soonyoung’s body was enough to warm you up enough though. Or was it? “Cutie.” The pet name rolls off his tongue like it was ever so casual, “it’s already seven in the morning! I’ve let you sleep in for an hour today!” Whining while trying to elbow him, he managed to tickle you awake. Your eyelids instantly opened up, shooting a menacing glare at him, Soonyoung teased, “Oh there she is, my baby tiger!”

Wonwoo

Both of you definitely wake up at 3pm

If he didn’t have any dance practices the previous day, he would have been gaming until the wee hours of the morning.

You would either be situated in bed, at your desk, or on his lap waiting for him to grow tired so that the both of you can fall asleep together

Sometimes, when you get too tired, you would practically try and drag him to bed, begging him to cuddle you

I think wonu wakes up later than you cause he sleeps so damn late

you would have to cook lunch for him

You wouldn’t want your baby to become hungry, would you?

Voice laced with thickness, it was another morning afternoon where you tried not to burn down the house by cooking a simple dish that hopefully wouldn’t be too overwhelming to eat. Wonwoo was sitting down at the dining table, arms supporting his head by leaning his elbows on the table, his gaze following your every movement. As you opened the cupboard overhead, you realised one of the sauces you needed to make your food with was too high up. Jumping up and trying to grab it, Wonwoo laughed at your miserable attempt to reach it. Chuckling deeply, he walked towards your direction while wrapping his hand around your waist. Pressing a peck to the crown of your head, he rubbed the pad of his thumb on your bare skin, his other hand shooting up to grab the sauce bottle. Gently placing it down on the counter, he trapped you in between his body and the counter while kissing you firmly on your lips. Hands gripping your waist tightly, he was about to press another kiss to your temple when you smelt burnt food. Turning your attention to the food which has been on high heat for the past few minutes, you quickly reached over to turn off the stove. Glaring playfully at him, he could only chuckle in guilt. “The food’s burnt Wonwoo.” >:(

“It’s ok I can make us some cup noodles.”

Woozi

I feel that woozi goes to bed late at night

Or just pulls an all nighter in his studio

You would have like late night dates in his studio (it’s canon)

So once both of you return home and go to sleep it’ll be so late

I feel that woozi will wake up earlier than you

He would definitely go to the gym to work out early in the morning

When he comes back you would already be awake, lazing in bed

Both of you would have a playlist playing in the background while enjoying each other’s presence

The fan overhead circulated the air around the bedroom. Windows and curtains closed, the only sound you could hear in the room was the quiet humming of the ceiling fan. Whistling a tune, Jihoon pulled the curtains open, the bright rays of light seeping into the bedroom. Your boyfriend standing in the bright gaze of the sun, shirtless with a towel hanging across shoulders, made him seem much more ethereal than usual. Turning around with a cup of coffee in hand, he catches you staring shamelessly at him. Scoffing a bit, he sits on the edge of the bed beside you while handing you the cup. Accepting the cup of coffee, you place the cup on your cheek, soaking the warmth of it. Reaching out for his phone, he connects your speaker and opens spotify before playing your morning playlist. Leaning against him for support and warmth, the both of you enjoy your slow morning with songs playing one after the other. Jihoon thinks that it was a good investment to get spotify premium, enjoying your quiet presence beside him made him realise. Oh he wants this for the rest of his life. Experiencing each morning with you by his side.

“Darling,” he hums out, turning his face to face yours. The lovesick look that hung in his eyes made butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Yea?” “I just wanted to let you know you look ever so beautiful.” (SOMEONE GET ME A JIHOON RN 👹)

Minghao

wakes up once the sun comes out

Probably in another room drinking tea and shit

(maybe) meditating

Growing up in an chinese household i’ve seen my neighbours and relatives do 太極拳 (tai ji quan) like before the sun comes out

(Doing it in school during morning assembly makes me shiver in my microscopic boots frfr)

Bro would probably play the routine songs while doing it since he’s a dancer yk

So when you wake up, Minghao probably waits for you at the living room, two cups of hot steaming tea in the ceramic pot while he does his morning stretches

Forces you into doing it with him tho

The artificial birds chirping and the creek flowing sound blasted through the speakers. It resounded across the whole house, lifting you out of your sleep. Swinging your legs off the side of the bed, you opened the windows, basking in the morning air before packing up the bed. Making your way out of your shared bedroom, you caught sight of your lover doing his routine of stretching and tai ji. Sitting in front of the coffee table, you reached out to the teapot before pouring yourself a cup of green tea. Your presence made Minghao turn his gaze to you before whispering a small “good morning”. You returned the gesture by nodding your head.

“So darling, what would you like for breakfast?”

Mingyu

Another big baby :(

Clingy baby alert! (pt4 i think)

Has both his hands wrapped around your waist and refuses to let go even when you want to visit the washroom

Clingy baby wakes up later than you

I think he said in an interview (with jaeseok and seokjin) that he usually wakes up at 3 to 4 pm

Clings onto you when you’re doing your morning routine

If he is still tired and feeling incredibly clingy that day he would be like cheol and pull you back to bed and trap you in his embrace

“Gyu you’ve got to let go.” Shooting him a nasty look, he finally obeys before releasing you to go to the toilet. He would lay down on your side of the bed (as if he isn’t situated there the whole night) and act like a sick Victorian child. He would repeatedly call out your name and ask you where you are to which you would reply “Kim Mingyu are you going to let me pee in peace?” TT. Once you finally make your way back to the bed, you would refuse to talk to him (as a joke) and ignore his persistent questions of “What took you so long :(“ Please protect this big baby at all costs. He’s so whiny and clingy, it’s so adorable. You reached out to the bedside table to grab your phone from the charger but before you could even reach it, your boyfriend already reached out to your arm and pulled you back to the bed where he would keep you in his embrace for the next hour.

“Baby are you going to leave me like this, cold, loney..” He rambles on and on about how you’ve left him alone :( “But Mingyu I need to pee!” (sobbing sounds continue)

Dokyeom

Another baby who would wake up earlier than you

So so so energetic (I can’t stress this enough)

He would probably pounce on you to wake you up

Peppering your face with numerous kisses

He would tickle you awake

If you don’t wake up by his tickles you would wake up by his singing at 8 am in the morning

Broski is probably having a 1 hour session singing in the bathroom

You’d probably have noise complaints from the neighbours lmao

I bet 100% that he’s going to sing the symphony dolphin meme just to annoy you

No but this baby wouldn’t want to disturb your sleep

He’s such a softie :(

Waking up to the sound of water splashing (100% real not creek flowing music) you hear your boyfriend singing his heart out to his spotify playlist in the bathroom. Not that you’re complaining though. The voice of his makes your heart melt at his sincerity of being an idol. The music comes to an end and a few seconds later, you hear the water stop flowing before the bathroom door creaks open. You make eye contact with your boyfriend who is currently drying his hair with a small towel. He grins at you before continuing with his next song while choosing what to wear. Seriously, is this sunshine ever going to stop singing?

“Baby~” Dokyeom sing-songs before holding up an outfit he chose. “Should I wear this today?”

Seungkwan

Oh this dramatic diva >:D

He would wake up once his alarm clock rings

He would then spend like the next hour in the bathroom doing his thing before going to the kitchen and grabbing a cooling face mask

By the time you wake up, he must have come back from his morning run

You would find him in the kitchen drinking his iced americano and taking his health supplements

Would probably side eye you and nag you on why you shouldn’t sleep in for too long

“I’ve told you so many times!” Seungkwan whined while clinging onto your shoulder. “It’s not good to sleep in! You should have gone to bed earlier!” Ignoring the poor boy’s constant nagging, you tried to go back to sleep on the bed. You would see him pick up his karaoke machine’s mic and start pouring out his heart and soul into a wonder girl’s song. That should wake you up enough before you pounce on him and ask him to shut up for your sanity. He’s going to dodge all your attacks before trapping you in his embrace and shooing you away to take your supplements.

“I want nobody, nobody but you” (obnoxious clapping sounds) “I want nobody, nobody but you” “Boo Seungkwan if you don’t shut up in the next one minute, I’m going to throw you outside the house.” (你给我滚出去 reference)

Vernon

Oh this guy and his sleeping habits

He has such a laid back vibe and i’m here for it

You guys probably watch those funny cat videos compilation series on youtube in the morning

Or maybe both of you would be on twitter or tiktok and you would send each other funny videos or memes

Both of you too lazy to get up

The only time both of you get up is when either one of you need to use the washroom

I feel that vernon would wake up slightly later than you

both of you guys taking your morning slow

“Nonie?” You tugged the sleeve of his shirt trying to gain his attention. Turning around to meet your gaze, he instinctively raised an eyebrow before you showed him the funny video you found on TikTok. Gently grabbing the phone out of your hand, he looked at the video with mild amusement before returning it to you. “Too late, I've already seen it.” He smirks before laughing his heart out. You can only smack him out of playful annoyance and irritation, trying to get that stupid grin out of his face. “But it is funny!” You whined, bottom lip jutting out as you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry babe, it’s just so amusing to see you getting worked up!”

Chan

Oh my precious baby :(

He’s so so so so so pocket sized and tiny D:

Since he is also part of the performance team (4/4)

I can totally see him sleeping until after midday

When he does wake up, you would be in the kitchen preparing food for him to eat and regain his energy

Most likely cause he didn’t have much energy to eat dinner last night

He would wake up and make his way to you, back hugging you as you focus your attention on not burning the food

He would insist that he wants to help you cook the food but you would refuse bc how can you let your baby work when he is so tired

Shooing him away to the dining table but he wouldn’t budge since he is also another clingy baby (pt5 if i remember correctly)

Arms wrapped around your torso and head buried in your neck, he would just stay there, basking happily in the moment

“Channie, go and sit at the dining table. The food is almost done!” You nudged him, giving him the assurance that you weren’t going anywhere. However, this clingy baby would not leave your side even for a second. You guessed that his training last night must have taken a toll on his body as you noticed him burying his head even deeper into your shoulder, sniffling your neck as his grip on your torso got even tighter. “Why move to the dining table if you aren’t there with me!” He whined gripping you even tighter, you weren’t sure if you were able to breathe anymore due to the fact that he had been working out a lot more recently. You could only chuckle in amusement as you plated the food and walked towards the dining table to put the plates down. Sitting down on the long bench. Chan refused to sit at the opposite side, deciding that sitting beside you (or lying half of his body on you) was the better option. You had no choice but to baby him, feeding him his bread and letting him sip on his water. Chan could only look up at you with his half opened droopy eyes, looking at you with the most lovesick gaze.

“I love you so much you know, right?” :(

“I know Channie, this has been the fifth time you have said it in the last 5 minutes.” You state while brushing his fringe back, wiping the beads of sweat off his forehead.

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kozukensgf · 1 year ago

Text

boyfriend texts with hoshi!

charac! kwon soonyoung

genres! smau, crack, fluff

note! this is how i imagine dating a hoshi would be like (he is so an ipad kid coded but a cute one) like i wanna put him in my pockets 🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻 also the bus incident actually happened irl lmaoo my precious hoshi 🥹🥹

masterlist

part one | part two

#hazel posted #seventeen x reader #smau #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #kpop smau #svt fluff #svt smau #seventeen #kwon soonyoung #hoshi #hoshi x reader #hoshi imagines #svt texts #fake texts #hoshi x you

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nnight-dances · 2 years ago

Text

...BABY ONE MORE TIME.

pairings: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader tropes: established relationship, drunk soonyoung!!!, teasing, banter, jealousy but it's lighthearted, skinship, some sexual content but not too explicit, idiots in love :] what to expect: There's only one thing you love more than your boyfriend, Kwon Soonyoung. And that was teasing him until you got on his nerves when he's drunk out of his mind. You can't be blamed though, can you? The result is always priceless.

“Baby, is that you?” you call out, stepping outside the bathroom and squint as you struggle to see in the darkness of the bedroom. “Soonyoung?” you ask again.

You’re a second away from freaking yourself out into thinking you’d imagined the voice calling out your name, when a squeak surprises you. There’s rustling and slowly a tall figure rises in the dark. Well, it would’ve been a tall figure if your idiot-shaped boyfriend hadn’t instantly tripped over the carpet in front of the bed where he’d been calling out your name in agony.

You laugh out just as soon as you reach out to switch the lights back on, to finally set your eyes on Soonyoung’s writhing body on the beige carpet. “Babe, they’re attacking me!” he sniffles, tears shining in his eyes.

Instantly, you’re on your knees and cooing, “Oh, my baby, what happened?” You capture his face in your palms, thumbing away the slight sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. “Who attacked you, huh? Tell me and I’ll bring out the guns!”

For a moment, your boyfriend’s taken aback at your declaration, genuinely sputtering, “You- You have guns?”

You grin cheekily, pulling away to flex your biceps, not caring how stupid you must look posing in the oversized jumper Soonyoung had thrown over you as soon as you’d let slip that it was getting a little too chilly for your liking. “Yeah, ‘m talking about these bad boys.”

Soonyoung looks away with an entertained laugh, propping himself up as he throws you his best heart eyes, “Ahhh, you’re so good to me :( I really don’t deserve you!”

“But you do,” you stop him, palms reclaiming their place on his cheeks and his lips are gathered into a pout in no time. “Anyways, tell me which one of those rascals bothered you this time?”

And by those ‘rascals’ you were referring to the crowd of friends you’d accompanied on a beach trip to celebrate Wonwoo’s birthday, enjoying what felt like the last days of your summer break getting wasted together. So far, it’d been everything you’d needed: light-hearted teasing, lots of drinks, good music and shameless dancing, and now, a clingy Soonyoung.

Although you probably wouldn’t admit it to him out loud (fearing what he’d do with the information), you love your boyfriend when he’s drunk. Contrary to what Mingyu tells Soonyoung the next morning, you love taking care of him and indulging in his drunken antics. As if a sober Soonyoung wasn’t silly enough for you, the sight of him perched on his knees, diligently confiding in you every single hurtful thing he’s been the victim of– it just made you all soft inside.

“Gosh, that’s terrible, Soonyoung,” you mumble, brushing a hand through his strands with a hum. He stops mid sentence, mouth twitching and you can almost see the inner conflict he goes through.

Fine, you’ll admit it, it wasn’t just the taking-care-of-him part that you enjoyed so much. It was also… the teasing. You couldn’t help yourself, honestly, because the sober Soonyoung would probably find a way to up the stakes and get your own ego involved but this inebriated version of him? He was trying so hard to not fall right into trap.

“Babe, what the fuck.”

You: 1. Soonyoung: 0.

“Hmm? What the fuck what?” you question innocently, swallowing a giggle.

“You’re being mean. Again,” his voice cracks a little as he mumbles out the last word and you have to sturdy yourself against the sight of his eyes falling down to his hands.

But you know better. You’ve been dating Soonyoung for long enough to know he’s been working on mastering the games you play with him. And for a moment, you’re lightheaded, realizing you’re not very sober yourself either but as the sounds of your friends partying outside seeps into the privacy of your shared bedroom, you smirk.

“Soonyoung, you’re gonna have to do better than that. Explain yourself for me.” In stark contrast to the cold way you’re calling out his full first name is the soft comfort of your tone, all mellow and honeyed.

His pout is back as he whines, “I’m not that. I’m,” his voice is clipped as he breaks eye contact again, cheeks flushing, “I don’t like it when you call me Soonyoung. At all.”

You breathe out, almost giddy because goddamnit, this man is precious. “Oh, really? And why is that?”

Soonyoung looks back up at you, finally showing you those eyes of his, ears now turning pink. And it’s like the talking stage of your relationship all over again, when Soonyoung would freeze up adorably when you’d peck him on the cheek out of the blue or when he’d sneakily reached out to hold your hand under the covers. Even now, he’s that same shy guy as his fingers find your hand, intertwining them and watching as you let him carefully.

“Because. I love you. And if we’re dating, the rule is to use nicknames,” when Soonyoung shifts closer to you, you have a moment to wonder if he’s really as drunk as he’s letting on because the spark in his eyes is so intense, “Right, my love?”

Fuck, now you’re flustered. You bite your lip and rack your brain to think of what you could say to that, only to be rudely interrupted by Soonyoung’s arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

“Soonie?” The name leaves your tongue out of pure habit and you don’t even comprehend you’ve said it until Soonyoung vibrates with a delighted chuckle against you. You feel his lips against your ear, “I love you so much, babe.”

Okay, so maybe he was that drunk, because you’d been half-expecting him to declare that he’d won this self-imagined battle of the wits. But he simply melts into yours arms, pressing loving kisses against your side with you growing redder every passing moment. Helplessly, you press your hands into his back, relishing his warmth.

You’re about to bring up cuddling as your next plan of action when you see a head pop up behind the door to your room. Seungcheol lets out a loud groan when he spots you tangled around Soonyoung’s limbs, his lips still moving against you despite the intrusion.

“Fuck you guys for real! Here I was, worrying after you! I thought one of you had slipped and drowned in the ocean while the other was here grieving.”

“Please tell me you at least suspected Soonie as the one who would be drunk enough to drown?”

Soonyoung pulls away from you with a gasp, “Y/N!!!!! HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT? I’M YOUR ONLY BOYFRIEND?!!”

His shock only greatens when you join Seungcheol in his amused laughter and soon, he’s standing up (albeit not before he bumps his head against the bed above you). You follow suit quickly, arm around him to steady him, “Soonie, you know I was just–”

“Get your hands off me :( I don’t want to talk to you! Ever!” Your heart lurches a little because he sounds genuinely upset but then you catch a glimpse of the playful pout on his face and you meet Seungcheol’s gaze with a knowing grin.

“I fear you’ve gone too far this time, comrade,” he remarks with an inappropriate amount of gravity.

“What punishment do you reckon awaits me?” you cross your arms. Seungcheol hums as if deep in thought and then, “You’re lucky if he lets you talk him into going to bed with you tonight.”

You roll your eyes as you approach the door, fingers brushing the lights back off with a click.

“You underestimate me.”

The two you trudge through the sand, with you facing some difficulty thanks to your flimsy sandals and shaky vision. “You’re drunk too, aren’t you?”

You hate that you can hear the fatherly disappointment in Seungcheol’s voice so you protest, “That’s an unreasonable accusation.”

“...That’s not what I was asking you.” The rest of your friend group comes into sight now and you’re surprised how fast Soonyoung managed to get away from you.

“I’m fine,” And then when your eyes land on your boyfriend, you’re quick to add, “At least I’m nowhere as drunk as him.” Seungcheol chuckles and if he makes any further comments, you don’t hear him because your eyes are fixed on the figure of Soonyoung wrapped around Dokyeom like his life depended on it.

He’d been happily swinging around to the music, a pleased grin plastered to his face until he notices you approaching. Immediately he’s pulling Dokyeom closer, who lets out a terrified groan but protectively steadies the man with a hand on his back. There’s a few other people dancing, with Mingyu pulling an unwilling Wonwoo into an embrace, and a giggly Jeonghan who screams at Seungcheol to hurry up and join them. Sakura is dancing alone while a very red Yunjin watches with a tired smile. You can vaguely make out Jun and Chan crouched near the speakers, possibly fiddling with the playlist that was on.

Quietly, you join Joshua on the hammock facing the gathered dancing. He shifts to give you some space as he lets out a chuckle, “You have a fight with Soonie? He came in here all pouting and then started clinging to Dokyeom like that. We had to make sure he hadn’t confused Dokyeom with you.”

You laugh, “Not a fight. But I may have teased him a little.”

Joshua lets out a grunt, “God, you’re incorrigible. You never learn, do you?”

Your smile only widens as an idea pops into your head, all while you’re watching your boyfriend lovingly dote on Dokyeom, who he’s feeding a slice of pizza. “How can I, when he’s this fun to mess with? Plus, I don’t get the same reactions out of him when he’s sober.”

“You’re a scary one, man.” Joshua prepares to zone out, probably thinking that’d be the end of your conversation but he frowns when he feels your hand at his elbow. He looks up at you, only to find a spine-chilling evil grin on your face (one that is reminiscent of Soonyoung himself, particularly when he’s accusing Mingyu of being the mafia).

“C’mon, Shua, let’s go dance.”

Joshua groans, “No way! I don’t want to be on Soonyoung’s hit list because I laid a hand on you.”

“Don’t worry, think of this as doing a favor to him,” you reassure him as you pull him toward the music, bringing his hand to your waist, “And I laid your hand on me.”

He mutters out one last string of complaints that gets drowned out in the night and you simply chuckle, finally letting the alcohol catch up to your head a little, senses overwhelmed by the loud music.

It's only been over a minute when Joshua goes, “Oh dear, he’s coming this way.”

You only have a moment’s notice before you feel a warm hand at your wrist, forcing you to rip away from Joshua’s hold. “I’m going to kill you,” Soonyoung trains a scowl on the man, a sight that would be more intimidating if he wasn’t slurring half his words. “And you,” his eyes are back on you, hand on wrist tightening.

You raise an eyebrow, “Hm? What’s that, sweet?” As expected, the term of endearment throws Soonyoung who was clearly expecting more of a fight from you. And to make things worse, just as he opens his mouth to speak again, you hear the opening notes of a familiar song playing in the background.

Both of your faces perk up in recognition, slightly comical from a third person perspective. But between the two of you, there’s pure joy when the song starts playing– a song you’d listened to together on repeat for days before. A song you used to mildly like before Soonyoung came around and added to one of your playlists as a recommendation. One day, it’d started playing as the two of you were attempting to bake tiny cupcakes and massively fucking it up. The tensions had been high and you were starting to feel annoyed but when the bluetooth speaker sitting on the kitchen counter played the song, Soonyoung’s frown dissolved into a toothy smile.

You still have this song, he’d exclaimed and looked at you with eyes full of so much emotion that you could only nod, not having the heart to explain that you hadn’t really had a chance to listen to it fully yet. But it didn’t matter then: you’d found yourself following Soonyoung when he started dancing around, limbs loose and lame, but grin intact. Soon, you had the lyrics memorized better than your own phone number.

So yeah, when you hear that song now, you can’t help but throw your arms around Soonyoung, wanting nothing more than to feel his heart beat against yours. His strong arms pull you impossibly closer with a satisfied laugh and your heart soars when you feel him singing the song for you in your ear.

When he slightly goes off-note on one of the high notes though, you pull away with a giggle, “Babe, I’ve told you to lay off the high notes. You’re gonna hurt your throat.” You place a hand on his neck gently. He swallows against your hold.

“Oh? So now you care if I hurt my throat?”

You scoff, “You’re mad at me? You’re the one who was slow-dancing with Seokmin like you were a kiss away from marrying each other.”

“Hey, that’s unfair,” Soonyoung’s fingers creep up your back and under the fabric of his pullover, “I just wanted to make you pay for what you said earlier about… Well, I can’t remember what you said but it wasn’t very nice.”

You laugh into his chest, finding his face in your hands for the second time that night. Delicately you place a kiss on each of his cheeks, murmuring, “I’m sorry, my tiger, I was just having some fun.”

You sense a change in Soonyoung’s shoulders at your words, the nickname working wonders when his lips crash into yours clumsily. Your laugh’s lost in the first kiss of many and you can’t find it in you to complain. At one point, you almost topple over because of how much of his weight Soonyoung’s leaning over you.

“Why don’t we go have some fun back in the room, babe?” Soonyoung’s gaze has long darkened with a small smile. Before you can respond, his arms are around your torso, pulling you into another open-mouthed kiss. This time you hear a disgusted sound by your side.

It’s Hansol: “Can you guys please go use a room that has a door that has a lock? Please? I’m begging you.”

If it wasn’t for you pulling away with an apologetic grunt, Soonyoung would’ve kept at it. Now, he throws Hansol a confusing wink and a, “See you tomorrow,” before he’s suddenly pulling you away with him, no doubt in the direction of your room.

When you pass by a group seated at the hammock, you throw them a rushed wave, “G’night, guys! We’re gonna get some sleep.” Soonyoung’s pulling you too fast for you to hear their responses too well, but distantly you hear a scoff from Seungkwan, “Ten bucks says you’re doing everything but sleeping.”

A few minutes later, you’re caged against the mattress, a flushed Soonyoung leaving a trail of wet kisses down your body. You mewl against his lips when he returns, “Fuck.”

“Fuck is right,” Soonyoung mumbles into your neck where you’re awaken with a few hickeys tomorrow. When he presses you into his lap, in efforts to mitigate the distance between you, you let out a string of curses when you feel his hard-on press against your shorts. “Shit, Soonie, you’re so hard for me,” you groan, hands helping him get rid of his shirt.

“I am,” his voice is small and you chuckle as you push down against the pillows. The last thing Soonyoung sees is you straddling, fingers expertly undoing his pants and boxers in a go. “Let me do something about it, baby.”

–

The next morning, Soonyoung wakes up with a headache of a lifetime, eyelids heavier than rocks when he hauls them open groggily. Even before he’s properly conscious, he’s reaching out for you with an arm to inspect the bed beside him. Much to his displeasure, he feels nothing but the fabric of the sheets surrounding him.

With a pout, he blinks his eyes open, groaning against the sunlight in the room. As he looks around with a yawn, he calls out for you, “Y/N, my love? Where are you?”

Thankfully, he hears your voice responding from the bathroom, the door to which was half-open. So, Soonyoung drags his hungover ass out of bed, knocking on the door and entering when he hears you say, “Soonie? You awake?”

It looks like you’re freshly showered, running your fingers through your damp hair and a bunch of your skincare and make-up covering the surface of the sink. “Why’re you awake so early?” he whines, instantly wrapping his arms around your waist, chin coming to sit at your shoulder.

You giggle when he takes a sniff of you with a pleased, “You smell so good, love. You should’ve woken me up earlier. Could’ve showered with you.”

“As much as I would’ve loved to, you were dead asleep,” You meet his eyes in the mirror, “Also, you and I both know that showering with you is impossible. You either end up slipping and hitting your head on the wall or find a way to fuck me.”

He gasps at your accusations but does nothing to deny them, “Okay, well, not my fault you’re hot.” He squeezes your sides as if in emphasis, effectively tickling you. You push him away through the laughter.

“Stop fooling around, babe,” you scold him with a half-serious scowl and hand him his toothbrush, “Go brush and stuff. I’ll go call the others and let them know you’re coming with me to brunch now.”

“Excuse me???” he screams after you when you quickly disappear out of sight, “Were you seriously going to let me sleep through brunch????”

He chuckles under his breath when he hears your loud laughs across the room, “No!!! I’d have to resort to starving myself to death until you woke up.”

“You’re such a liar,” Soonyoung tells you, a while later when the two of you are getting ready in comfortable silence. “You know I remember you dancing with Shua last night?”

You simply beam up at him, slipping your hands around him and he welcomes the scent of you. “Really? You remember trying to get into Seokmin’s pants? And then making out with me in front of all our friends? And then pulling me to our bedroom because you could not wait to–”

“All right, all right!! I remember!” Soonyoung exclaims with an embarrassed chuckle, looking away with a blush dusting his cheeks and you think, maybe he’s not so different sober. Then, he distracts you with those eyes of his when he leans in for a kiss. “I love you, by the way,” he reminds you like it might slip your mind.

You kiss his nose for good measure, “I love you too, Soonyoung. So much.”

You’re pulling him out the room with a quick yank before he can complain about your use of his government name and he shakes his head knowingly, promising to get you back later. For now, he just kisses your knuckles because when all’s said and done, he’d do anything for you.

Even if it meant being cast as the character who’d drown themselves accidentally in a drunken stupor.

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ ʚ ═══･୨ ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ

author's note:

OKAY SORRY what if i do love drunk hoshi????!!!!!!??? i am unapologetic about how insane i am for him <3 ... anyways, consider this an official declaration that kwon soonyoung is up there in my bias list, rocking it up with jeonghan and mingyu

speaking of which, someone has got to force me to write a jeonghan fic because i wake up everyday itching to write one but idk what possesses me and i simply cannot :((((( yeah, that's the life update. anyway,,,,

see you, friends and foes

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mi9yuz · 2 months ago

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2+1

IN which he talks to your little one through your bump genre. fluff, est. relationship pairing. husband!bss x afab!reader warnings. reader is pregnant

JAEiS M1C 🦕 this was inspired by that one video of them playing with the kids behind the scenes of CBZ because they’re just so good with kids they’re literally gonna be a good dad

호SHI

(dramatically) LISTEN UP, LITTLE TIGER! You’re a Kwon, and I know with all my heart you’re destined for greatness. But take your time in there, alright? Your mommy and I need you to grow strong—just like me, your papa tiger.

SEOK민

(cheerful) Hey, baby! It’s your dad! Are you ready for the most fun days ahead? I promise to make you and your mom laugh every single day while being the best dad and husband I can be. But hey, remember to be nice to mommy, alright?

승KWAN

(playful) Hey, baby! You’re probably the luckiest little one, you know that? You’re about to have the best parents ever. But, between us... I’m definitely going to be your favorite. Don’t tell mom I said that, though!

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nonranghaes · 3 months ago

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it's silly, but...

"sorry, we aren't eating spicy food right now." soonyoung says it over the phone to mingyu who, from what you heard because the call is on speaker, is trying to pawn off leftovers to soonyoung. not you, because your wisdom teeth just came out, and it'll aggravate it now. you look up from your phone, your heart warm at the notion.

we. we aren't doing this. we are in this together. you think you might cry. soonyoung's already explaining it to him: you can't have it, so he won't eat it, either: not directly in front of you while you're missing it this much already. you think this means he might indulge himself if he goes out without you, but you don't mind that. hell, you really hope he does if that's what he wants.

mingyu laughs after a moment, after soonyoung has apologized a few too many times. "no, it's fine," he says. "i'll ask vernon. are they craving anything that i can make?"

soonyoung looks at you when he thinks you're not looking or listening. "um... i think anything soft is good. they're miserable right now. i think i'll have to let anything hot cool down first, but... i think they'd appreciate it."

mingyu lets out a hum of affirmation. "i'll pull something together and drop by."

you fight back a smile as you listen to soonyoung thank him more than a few times before saying he'll talk to him again later. he comes over, bottle of pills in hand, and sets them down on the coffee table so that he can move your legs and sit underneath them. he drops them back into your lap, still holding on.

"is it bothering you?" he gestures toward his jaw. "i can get you something to eat so you can take your medicine..."

"i love you."

he blinks a few times. "... huh?"

"you don't have to cut out the stuff you enjoy for me." you reach out, pinching his cheek a little. "i don't mind. i'm an adult."

he pouts a little. "i'm not cutting them out completely," he says, one hand squeezing your ankle a little. "just when i'm with you. it'd be mean to sit in front of you and eat anything i know you want." he's sheepish now, eyes drifting away from you. "i like sharing with you. so... whenever we eat together," he meets your gaze again, "i'll eat only things i know you hate. okay?"

despite the tiny way your jaw aches now, you lean in, pressing a quick peck against the corner of his lips. it's clumsy, but still just as sweet, and it sends him into giggles nonetheless as he leans in to pepper your face with kisses as gently as he can.

"we're in this together," he says when he pulls back. he extends his pinky, beaming at you more when it makes you smile. "okay? we're a team."

you just giggle through the pain and lock your pinky around his own, taking the chance to steal one more kiss from him.

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hoshifighting · 8 months ago

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Arranged Marriage — Hoshi x Reader

— Synopsis: In contrast to the tired old plots of arranged marriages where the couple can't stand each other, you and Soonyoung are childhood friends. It's not just like marrying a friend—no, no, actually, it is marrying a friend, no-frills and simple. — WC: 10k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, fingering, oral (m. receiving), penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, choking, one single slap on the ass, hair pulling, aftercare, whipped!hoshi, hoshi teases reader until she almost cries for dick, mentions of alcohol, mentions of body fluids (cum, sweat), DIRTY TALK—prob the nastiest dirty talk i've written.

You knew this day would come.

Growing up in a world where luxury, money, stock exchange, and business were the pillars of existence, arranged marriages were just another part of the cycle. Two patrimonies merging into one for the benefit of both families—it was a tradition as old as time.

Some couples embraced the spotlight, showcasing their unity to the world. Others barely tolerated each other, living in separate homes to maintain a fake image. There were also those whose mutual disdain led to chaos both in their personal lives and in the family businesses.

When you saw Soonyoung in your home, dressed in a suit that clearly wasn’t his style, you felt a hurricane of emotions. His usual vibrant, carefree energy seemed stifled under the weight of the tailored fabric. You greeted him and his family alongside your parents, both of you a shy mess, but something in his eyes told you things might not be as bad as you feared.

“Hey,” Soonyoung murmured as you both found a moment away from the adults’ formal discussions. “This suit is killing me.”

You laughed softly, feeling a sense of relief. “You look... different.”

“Yeah, definitely not my usual style, you know me” he grinned, loosening his tie. “But I guess we’re both out of our comfort zones today.”

You nodded, memories flooding back of the two of you playing outside when kids, during business congresses, your parents inside discussing mergers and acquisitions while you and Soonyoung chased each other around the gardens. “Do you remember those days?”

“Of course,” he said, eyes lighting up with nostalgia. “We had our own little world, didn’t we?”

“We did,” you replied. “And now, here we are.”

“So, how do you feel about this?” he asked, shy, looking at your expensive dress, clearly set for tonight. “About us... getting married?”

“I’ve been preparing for it my whole life, I guess,” you said honestly. “But with you... it feels different. Less intimidating."

“I feel the same,” Soonyoung admitted. “I mean, if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it’s you.”

You smiled. “Maybe we can make this work. Find a balance between our lifes.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We can create something new, something that’s ours.”

You looked at him, seeing not just the boy you grew up with, but a partner. Someone who understood the complexities of your world and was willing to navigate them with you.

You looked around your house, taking in the scene. Soonyoung’s family mingled with yours, coworkers from your parents’ firms exchanged polite conversation, and your and Soonyoung’s nephews were playing circles around the couch.

The weight of the day pressed on your shoulders, a burden that didn’t match the elegance of the dress you were wearing for the marriage proposal.

Soonyoung’s eyes met yours, noticing your tense posture. “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” he asked softly.

You looked at him, sulking, and he recognized the same expression you had when you were eight.

He leaned in, whispering, “Don’t tell anyone, but I brought a bottle of tequila. It’s in my trunk. Would you like some to relax?”

You stared at him in silence before nodding with an exasperated look, feeling like it was exactly what you needed.

“Did you bring a shot cup?” you asked, following him outside.

He stopped, bottle in hand, and you both laughed. Taking the bottle from him, you leaned against his car, opened the cap, and poured a generous shot—maybe a little more—straight into your mouth. Soonyoung watched, his mouth wide open in surprise. You handed the bottle back to him.

“Why are you nervous?” he asked, taking a swig himself, looking comically exaggerated as he did. “I’m the one who has to kneel and propose today. My heart feels like it’s about to explode.”

You both laughed like teenagers getting away with something forbidden, hiding behind his car.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you broke it. “Do you have the ring here?”

He looked at you and nodded.

“Can I see it?” you asked, your curiosity piqued as if he had a rare Pokémon card.

“Is that right?” he teased.

You made doe eyes and asked, “Pretty please?”

He smiled, pulling a small black box from his pocket and opening it for you.

The diamond ring sparkled in your eyes, its brilliance captivating. “It’s beautiful,” you murmured.

Soonyoung nodded, grinning. “My sister helped me choose it. I originally wanted a diamond shaped like a cat, but she said that wasn’t appropriate.”

You laughed, the image of a cat-shaped diamond making you smile. “It’s beautiful, but a kitten-shaped ring sounds adorable. I would’ve loved that too.”

His grin widened, a small, proud smile lighting up his face as you both admired the ring.

Your moment was interrupted by Soonyoung’s mom's voice, echoing from the house. “Oh my god, are you already proposing?”

Soonyoung choked on his own saliva, his eyes wide with panic. The best thing to do now? Say no and face his mother’s scolding for showing the ring prematurely, or actually propose right then and there?

Before he could think it through, he found himself on one knee on the sidewalk, his heart pounding. You quickly hid the tequila bottle behind your back.

“Soonyoung, what are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“I... I’m improvising,” he replied, clearing his throat. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

The spontaneity of it all, made you laugh and cry at the same time, you needed to pretend you were actually emotional. “Yes, Soonyoung. Yes, I will.”

You barely noticed the sudden crowd that had gathered around you, they'd appeared out of nowhere, all eyes on the two of you. Soonyoung’s hand trembled slightly as he slid the ring onto your finger, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of his touch.

You smiled nervously at him, teeth gritted. “Hug me,” you whispered urgently, your eyes darting to the tequila bottle that was precariously wedged behind your back. “Please, put the tequila bottle inside your car. It's practically shoved inside my ass.”

Soonyoung blinked, processing your words before a grin spread across his face. He pulled you into a tight hug, the kind that felt both reassuring and grounding. As he embraced you, he expertly reached behind you, his fingers brushing against the bottle.

You could feel his body shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.

“Hang on,” he whispered back.

He managed to grab the bottle and discreetly slid it out from behind you. Still holding you close, he took a step back towards the car, opening the door with one hand and slipping the bottle inside. The whole maneuver was so smooth that you doubted anyone noticed the clandestine operation.

That moment eased the tension of the night, but the tequila hadn’t taken effect yet, and you knew you had to keep an eye on Soonyoung. His alcohol tolerance was notoriously low, and you didn’t want him to embarrass himself—or worse, get into trouble.

As the night wound down and Soonyoung’s dad started to lead him to the car, Soonyoung sulked, trying to resist. “I want to talk a bit more to my bride,” he protested, his voice slightly slurred. His words elicited good-natured laughter from both families, who were enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

You walked over to him, giving him a warm hug and patting his head affectionately. “It’s time to go home, Soonyoung,” you said gently.

He looked at you with wide, earnest eyes, the warmth in his gaze reminding you of why you felt less nervous than you should. Soonyoung had always been warm-hearted, and maybe that’s why you felt a sense of calm amidst the chaos.

As you pulled back from the hug, Soonyoung’s hand lingered in yours for a moment longer. “Promise you’ll call me tomorrow?” he asked, his tone earnest despite his tipsiness.

“Promise,” you replied, smiling as you squeezed his hand.

With one last affectionate look, Soonyoung allowed his dad to guide him into the car. You watched as the vehicle pulled away. Your parents approached, their expressions a blend of amusement and expectation.

“Well, that was quite a night,” your mom said, her eyes twinkling with delight.

“Yes, it was,” you agreed, glancing at your dad, who nodded in approval.

“You two make a good pair,” your dad said, his tone warm. “I’m glad to see you both getting along so well.”

Your parents were now expectant, believing you and Soonyoung were truly becoming a couple. And in a way, you were—just not in the conventional sense they imagined.

The next day, even though it was a promise to a drunk boy, you called Soonyoung in the morning. Like any typical business wedding, the preparations started swiftly, aiming to have the wedding happen as soon as possible. Today, you were going to choose the food and drinks for the event.

When Soonyoung arrived, he was all tidied up, but his face was clearly tired. You laughed a bit, “You look…”

He completed for you, “Fucked?”

You chuckled, “I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Long night,” he admitted, rubbing his eyes. “But I’m here.”

“Good, because we have a lot to decide,” you replied, glancing at the event agent who was discussing the dessert options.

As you both looked at the event agent, who insisted on adding superfluous things to the sweets—like a layer of gold—you exchanged amused glances. The agent was enthusiastically explaining the virtues of gold-leaf-covered desserts.

“Gold? For us to... poop?” Soonyoung murmured incredulously.

You stifled a laugh and leaned closer to him. “Can’t it be something more tasty?”

The agent looked slightly taken aback. “Gold leaf is quite a statement piece.”

Soonyoung nodded, trying to be polite. “But we were thinking of something simpler.”

“How about churros?” you suggest.

The agent blinked, clearly not expecting that. “Churros? For a wedding?”

“Why not?” you said with a grin. “They’re delicious, and everyone loves them.”

“But they don’t exactly scream luxury,” the agent protested.

“They scream fun,” Soonyoung countered. “And isn’t that what weddings are supposed to be?”

The agent sighed, making a note. “Alright, churros it is. Anything else?”

“Maybe some street-style tacos?” he added, enjoying the agent’s bewildered expression.

“Tacos?” the agent repeated, as if the word was foreign.

“Yeah, why not?” Soonyoung agreed. “Let’s keep it simple and tasty.”

The agent finally nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Very well. I’ll make the arrangements.”

Honestly, days flew by with Soonyoung by your side. Planning every little detail of the wedding together brought both fun and challenges, especially when your tastes didn’t always align. It was a bit complicated at first, like when you two were choosing the destination for your honeymoon.

Soonyoung wanted an adventure-packed trip to the Amazon rainforest, while you preferred a relaxing beach resort in the Maldives. The negotiations were intense, but you eventually settled on a compromise.

Choosing Soonyoung’s suit also proved to be a task. He insisted on wearing a tie with a tiger print, a nod to his childhood love for tigers. You were surprised that his fascination with the big cats had persisted, but you drew the line at a tiger tie. “Absolutely not,” you told him firmly, trying to imagine the looks you’d get. “A tiger tie is a no from me, and I think a lot of people would agree.”

“Fine,” he conceded with a sigh, but you could tell he was already thinking about how to sneak a little tiger motif into his outfit.

When it came to choosing your dress, you were accompanied by your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister.

Soonyoung, the only man in the group, tagged along as well. The other brides at the boutique initially assumed he was either your brother or your stylist.

Their jaws nearly dropped when they overheard he was actually the groom.

One of the brides, adjusting her veil in front of a mirror, turned to you, wide-eyed. “Wait, he’s your husband-to-be?”

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed with a smile, watching Soonyoung fuss over a lace detail on one of the dresses.

Another bride laughed softly. “Lucky you! He’s so involved.”

“He’s been amazing,” you said. “Except for his obsession with tiger prints.”

Soonyoung, overhearing, grinned and walked over. “What can I say? Tigers are cool.”

“Soonyoung, you’re a unique groom,” his sister teased, shaking her head.

As you tried on dresses, Soonyoung offered his opinions with surprising thoughtfulness, balancing out his more quirky suggestions. He was genuinely invested in making sure you felt beautiful and confident in your choice.

You’d tried on everything: the biggest gowns, the tightest silhouettes, dresses with endless layers of skirts, and others that hugged your hips so closely it felt like they were molded to your skin.

There were corsets that took your breath away—literally—and fabrics that shimmered under the boutique lights.

But this time, when you left the dressing room, you were wearing a veil.

Soonyoung’s eyes didn’t lie for a second. He liked this one very much. The women around you—your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister—fussed over the dress, adjusting it here and there, offering compliments. But Soonyoung was speechless.

If Soonyoung were to be completely honest, up until this moment, he had always seen you as his friend, the girl he was going to marry because of an arrangement. You were the same girl who used to run around the events, eluding the security guards with your mischievous giggles.

But now, you were different. You were a woman. His woman. And you looked stunning.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you. The transformation was breathtaking. You stood there, looking radiant in your wedding dress, and for the first time, the reality of the situation hit him. You weren’t just a friend anymore; you were about to become his partner, his wife.

He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t realize he was gawking until you and the women turned to him, waiting for his response. He blinked, snapping back to reality, and managed to find his voice.

“You look...” he started, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Your cheeks flushed at his earnest compliment. “You really think so?”

Soonyoung nodded, still unable to tear his eyes away. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

His sister grinned, nudging him playfully. “Told you she’d find the perfect dress.”

Your mom wiped away a tear, “You’re going to make a beautiful bride.”

Soonyoung’s mom stepped forward, adjusting a tiny detail on the veil. “This is the one. It’s perfect.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling a sense of certainty wash over you. “Yes, this is the one,” you said, smiling at the reflection and then at the people around you who made this moment even more special.

[...]

The days leading up to the wedding were a whirlwind of activity. Every day brought something new to choose, and your creativity was running dry. You were worn out, and Soonyoung knew it. Today had been particularly exhausting.

As the realtor showed you yet another option for apartments in the Metropole, you responded with short answers, your enthusiasm long gone after visiting sixteen places that day alone.

“So, what do you think?” the realtor asked.

Soonyoung noticed your hesitation. “Can I talk with my wife for a sec?” he asked.

The realtor nodded and walked off, giving you space.

“Y/N-nie... are you okay?” Soonyoung asked softly, looking at you through his lashes.

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I’m so tired,” you confessed.

He took a step closer, his voice softening. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You breathed out heavily. “My family is putting a lot of pressure on me, and I’m working relentlessly at the company. I can’t wait for us to get married…”

Soonyoung’s heart sank a little. “You want to get married just to get free from it?”

“No, it’s not just that. It’s everything. The wedding preparations, the constant decisions, the endless work... I feel like I’m drowning.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand. “We don’t have to rush this, you know. We can take our time.”

“But everyone’s expecting so much from us,” you replied, feeling the weight of expectations.

“Let them expect,” he said firmly. “And I want this to be as much about you as it is about us.”

“I just... I don’t want to disappoint anyone,” you admitted.

“You won’t,” Soonyoung assured you. “You’ve already done so much. It’s okay to take a step back and breathe.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit lighter. “Alright. Let’s look at this apartment one more time.”

Soonyoung nodded, giving you an encouraging smile. “And if it’s not the one, we’ll keep looking until we find the perfect place for us.”

You laughed softly, the tension easing. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Just doing my job as your soon-to-be husband,” he said playfully.

Soonyoung was doing an incredible job.

From what you’d heard from friends who had gone through the same situation, they didn’t have partners like Soonyoung. You felt proud of him.

He was your rock, making sure you took a breath when you were overwhelmed by the slightest things. He even insisted you didn't move a finger during brunch, making you so relaxed that you found the apartment you’d been searching for on the very same day.

The drive home was quiet, the car enveloped in a peaceful silence that allowed you a moment to rest. You laid your head back as he drove, appreciating the tranquility. Once you arrived, you stayed seated for a bit, soaking in the comfort of the quiet.

Soonyoung looked at you, waiting patiently. When you finally looked up, he gave you a gentle smile. “Ready to go in?”

You nodded, feeling a bit more refreshed. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He stepped out of the car and came around to your side, opening the door for you. “Take your time,” he said softly.

You appreciated his patience as you slowly got out of the car. “Thank you, Soonyoung.”

He smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the house. “I’m just doing what any good partner would do.”

You leaned into him, feeling grateful for his support. “I don’t think everyone is as lucky as I am.”

He chuckled softly. “Well, I’m pretty lucky too, you know.”

As you entered the house, you felt a sense of relief. The apartment search was over, and you had found the perfect place. More importantly, you had Soonyoung by your side, making every step of this journey easier.

“So, what’s next on our list?” he asked, guiding you to the living room.

You sank into the couch, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to you. “I think a nap is next on my list.”

He laughed, sitting beside you. “That sounds like a perfect plan.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders. “Wake me up in an hour?”

[...]

The days flew by in a blur with the whirlwind of wedding preparations. It felt like only moments ago you were choosing flowers, tasting cakes, and finalizing guest lists.

Now, as you stood at the end of the aisle, holding a bouquet in front of Soonyoung, the reality of the moment hit you with full force.

The weight of the dress and the pressure of looking perfect made your hands sweat like never before. You felt like a porcelain doll, perfectly polished and poised.

Soonyoung stood there, his eyes fixed on you with pride. He couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness. Here you were, a perfect woman by his side, and even better, an old friend he'd known for years.

The familiarity of your presence brought him comfort. Despite the fact that you hadn’t really dated, the idea of having someone as pretty and cool as you with him every day made him feel at ease about the whole situation.

As you walked down the aisle, your eyes met his, and a small, reassuring smile played on his lips. He looked stunning in his suit, and the way he stood tall, waiting for you, made your heart flutter.

You could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes, mirroring your own, but there was also a calmness there, a silent promise that everything would be alright.

When you finally reached him, he extended his hand towards you. He leaned in slightly, whispering just loud enough for you to hear, “You look amazing.”

You blushed, your nerves momentarily forgotten. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

The vows were sincere, filled with heartfelt words that spoke more to your shared friendship than any romantic notion. Both of you couldn’t help but giggle as you remembered all the crazy things you’d done together as kids.

Your minds flashed to the time you stole sweets from an event or when you both jumped into a water fountain during an important dinner with company directors.

As the officiant declared you husband and wife, all of these memories became a sweet reverie. You leaned in and whispered with a playful glint in your eye, “Are you going to kiss my lips or my cheek?”

Soonyoung blushed, clearly caught off guard by the question. A kiss on the cheek was typical in such moments since most arranged couples didn’t share a romantic bond. He stammered for a moment, his face flushing a deep shade of pink.

“Well… uh… I suppose the cheek would be safe,” he mumbled, eyes darting nervously.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, leaning closer. “But where’s the fun in that, Soonyoung?”

He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly. The playful challenge in your gaze gave him the courage he needed. With a deep breath, he moved in, his hand gently cupping your face.

“I think I’ll go for the lips,” he whispered back, his voice steadying.

The crowd held its breath as Soonyoung leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was a simple kiss, not passionate, but filled with the warmth of years of friendship and the promise of a shared future. The applause that followed was thunderous, but all you could focus on was the feeling of his lips against yours.

As you pulled away, you both wore matching grins. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you teased,

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not bad at all. Actually, it was kind of nice.”

You linked arms, turning to face the crowd together. Your parents looked relieved and proud, while your friends were cheering loudly, clearly entertained by the spectacle. Soonyoung’s eyes met yours again, and there was a newfound spark there, full of possibilities.

As you both shared champagne with your parents, Soonyoung playfully asked, "No tequila tonight?" You were about to respond when his mom's voice cut in, "Tequila?"

Soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his mouth twisted into a frown as he tried to suppress his laughter. You quickly improvised, "Huh, h-he meant... tacos! We had tacos with tequila last time, remember?" You forced a smile, hoping it sounded convincing enough. His mom seemed satisfied with the answer, nodding along.

After mingling with guests—aka talking with people from work about the next meeting—you finally found a moment to escape the spotlight. You and Soonyoung crouched behind the kitchen, hiding from the crowd. The chefs chuckled at the sight of the newlyweds sneaking bites of food, but they made sure to hand you the best eats, knowing how overwhelming the day could be.

Soonyoung grinned, playfully nudging you. "We're so used to doing this at parties that we're practically pros now."

You nodded in agreement, a mischievous smile on your face. "Even though it's our own wedding party," you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

He chuckled, looking at the gold ring on your finger with a sense of wonder. "Our wedding... I still can't believe it. Oh my god, we're grown adults now."

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out to pat his head mockingly. "We've been grown adults for... kind of a long time already," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then leaned in closer, his voice softening. "Yeah, but it feels different now. Like, we're really starting something new."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. It was true. The reality of your situation was sinking in, but in a way, it felt comforting. You had each other, and that made everything seem a little less daunting. As you sat there, hidden away from the chaos of the celebration, it struck you how much you appreciated this moment—just the two of you, stealing away for a breather.

“Shall we follow tradition?” Soonyoung asks, a playful glint in his eyes. You frown, confused, as he reaches into the fridge and pulls out a bottle of tequila.

“Should tequila be kept in the fridge?” you ask, laughing at the sight.

“I hope so,” he replies, pouring the liquid into a cup. “This one is expensive.”

You raise an eyebrow, taking the cup from him. “The cheapest has the same effect,” you say, waiting for him to pour his own.

He chuckles, raising his glass. “But today’s a special day. We deserve the good stuff.”

You laugh it off, crossing your arms before taking the shot together. The familiar burn makes you both scrunch up your faces.

The wedding party was truly one of a kind. You and Soonyoung were a bit too excited, turning the waltz space into a wild dance floor.

At first, your parents were too embarrassed to join, especially at the sight of Soonyoung twerking on you. But soon, even the directors and business partners were on the dance floor, dancing and drinking extravagantly.

[...]

The next morning, you and Soonyoung were woken up by the buzzing of your phones.

Your makeup was smudged and stamped on the pillow, and you were still in your wedding dress. You scratched your scalp, feeling the bobby pins still tangled in your hair.

Soonyoung was no better; his shirt was unbuttoned to his belly button, his tie was loosened around his neck, and his hair looked like a bird's nest. He scratched his forehead groggily. Despite sharing the same bed, you both seemed unbothered by it.

You grabbed your phone and saw the company group chat flooded with messages:

“Wow, last night was incredible! Congrats to the newlyweds!”

“I can't believe we all danced that much! My feet are killing me. :')”

“Best wedding party ever! So happy for you guys!”

“My head is pounding, but it was totally worth it. ^^ Cheers to you both!”

“I’m still recovering from all that dancing. What a party!”

“Never thought I’d see the CEO breakdancing. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ”

You couldn't help but smile at the messages, as Soonyoung peeked over your shoulder, a sleepy grin spreading across his face.

“My head hurts,” Soonyoung complains, rubbing his temples.

You adjust the corset of your dress, feeling the tightness around your ribs. "My ribs are squeezed," you grumble, wincing as you try to get comfortable. "I can't believe I slept in this."

He yawns, glancing down at your leg. "You even kept the garter on," he points out, noticing the delicate band still around your thigh.

You crack your neck, feeling the weight of the long night. "Your sister gave it to me, so I put it on," you explain, lifting the voluminous skirt to reveal the bridal garter.

His eyes widen comically. "My sister?! Is there something I don't know?"

You frown at him, a bit confused. "You don’t know about the tradition?"

Soonyoung looks a bit lost, scratching his head. "I mean, it’s my first time getting married."

You sigh, laying back down. "Traditionally, the groom is supposed to take it off when... taking the virginity," you explain, watching his face turn a shade of pink.

His eyes dart around nervously, processing the information. "So... my sister thought I was... a virgin?"

You shrug, teasing, "Probably. Are you?"

He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Definitely not. And you?"

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Nope. Sorry to disappoint."

He chuckles, finally relaxing. "Good to know. Not that it matters, but... it's funny to think about how everyone just assumes stuff."

“Are you going to take it off?” you tease, stretching your leg up and wiggling your foot playfully. Your eyes glint mischievously as you watch Soonyoung’s reaction.

He scoffs, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “What, you mean right now?” His eyes flicker to your thigh, then quickly back up to your face, trying to gauge if you’re serious or just messing with him.

You arch an eyebrow, maintaining your playful expression. “Why not? It’s tradition, right? Don’t you want to fulfill your husbandly duties?” You stretch your leg out further, making the garter more visible.

Soonyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, but there’s a sparkle of joy in his eyes. He reaches out hesitantly, his fingers brushing lightly against your thigh. The touch sends a shiver to your skin, and you can’t help but giggle.

“What’s the matter?” you prod, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

He rolls his eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. “Not at all,”

You bute your lip as his fingers graze the lacy fabric of the garter. His touch is feather-light, almost ticklish, and you squirm a bit under his hand.

Soonyoung smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction. “You’re squirming,” he notes, his voice low and teasing. “Does that mean you’re nervous?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Me? Nervous? Please,” you retort, trying to sound confident despite the rapid beating of your heart. “I’m just surprised you’re taking so long. I thought you’d be an expert at this.”

He chuckles, sliding his hand a bit higher up your thigh, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, deliberate strokes. “Oh, I am,” he replies smoothly. “Just savoring the moment.”

“Well, don’t take too long,” you murmur, your voice softening slightly. “We wouldn’t want to miss out on any other wedding traditions.”

Soonyoung grins, his fingers hooking under the garter. “Right, can’t forget those,” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of naughtiness.

He gently tugs on the garter, slowly sliding it down your leg, his eyes never leaving yours.

As he finally slips the garter off, he holds it up triumphantly, a goofy grin on his face. “There, tradition fulfilled,” he declares, waving the garter like a trophy.

You laugh, shaking your head at his antics. “Congratulations,” you say, clapping mockingly. “You’ve successfully removed a piece of elastic lace. Truly, a remarkable achievement.”

He bows dramatically, playing along. “Thank you, thank you,” he says, flashing you a cheeky smile. “It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.”

You can’t help but laugh, the light-hearted banter making the moment feel even more special. Soonyoung’s hand lingers on your leg for a moment longer before he finally lets go.

As Soonyoung gets up, stretching his arms with a yawn, he announces, "I'm going to take a bath." He heads towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You sit up, still feeling the effects of last night's festivities, and shout after him, “Ya! Ladies first!”

From behind the closed door, you hear Soonyoung's laughter echo in the bathroom. “Sorry, didn’t hear you over the sound of me already starting the water!” he calls back, his voice filled with playful defiance.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself. It’s these little moments that make everything feel so natural and easy with him. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of running water stop, and Soonyoung emerges from the bathroom, his hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist.

“All yours,” he says, grinning. “I left some hot water for you, too.”

You roll your eyes playfully, grabbing your toiletries and heading into the bathroom. The warm water is a welcome relief, washing away the remnants of makeup and the night's events. After a quick shower, you step out feeling slightly more human, though the hangover still lingers.

As you both finish getting ready, the thought of breakfast crosses your mind. However, just the idea of food makes your stomach churn. The hotel's breakfast spread is typically lavish, but today, the thought of greasy bacon and pastries is anything but appetizing.

Soonyoung, dressed in a casual outfit, catches your expression as you look at the food options. “Yeah, not feeling it either,” he says, rubbing his temple. “Let's skip it.”

You nod in agreement, both of you opting for just a coffee to stave off the worst of the hangover. With minimal conversation, you gather your belongings, checking out of the hotel and heading straight to the airport.

But one thing you definitely didn’t expect was Soonyoung falling asleep on your shoulder within the first thirty minutes of the flight. His head rested heavily against you, and his hand, seemingly by accident, was placed on your thigh.

As he softly snored, you couldn’t help but chuckle at how comfortable he looked. Anyone passing by would probably think you two were an old married couple, so naturally attuned to each other.

His head's weight pressed down on your shoulder, a constant reminder of his presence. Every now and then, you felt him subconsciously moisturizing his lips, a small, almost imperceptible movement that somehow made the moment even more cute.

You glanced at the small TV screen in front of you, trying to focus on the movie playing. It was a romance novel adaptation, the kind with sweeping gestures and grand declarations of love.

Normally, you might have rolled your eyes at the cliché, but with Soonyoung sleeping peacefully beside you, it felt oddly fitting.

As the plane cruised through the sky, you found yourself getting lost in the storyline, occasionally glancing at Soonyoung. His breathing was steady, a gentle rhythm that added to the soothing hum of the plane.

You shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable without disturbing him, but his hand tightened instinctively on your thigh, holding you in place. It was a small, protective gesture that made your heart flutter.

What you loved the most was when Soonyoung finally woke up, blinking sleepily and then immediately apologizing. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, his face flushed with embarrassment. You chuckled, assuring him it was okay, that he had every right to rest. He seemed genuinely mortified, even offering, “You can sleep on my shoulder too, I promise.”

You smiled at his earnestness, brushing it off with a light, “Maybe on the way back, then,” as the announcement came that you were about to land.

Once you arrived, Soonyoung was quick to grab the suitcases from the taxi, his efficiency a comfort as you made your way to the hotel's check-in counter.

The concierge’s eyes seemed to linger on you a little too long, his gaze sliding over your sundress and perhaps admiring more than just the attire.

As you waited for the receptionist, the concierge leaned casually on the counter, offering a friendly, yet slightly flirtatious, smile.

“First time here, ma’am?” he asked, his tone smooth and inviting.

“Well, yes...” you replied, keeping your voice polite but detached. You could feel the weight of his attention and tried to subtly stretch your hand, making sure the gold ring on your finger was clearly visible.

The concierge didn’t seem to get the hint, or perhaps he chose to ignore it. “You’re in for a treat. We’ve got some wonderful spots for—”

Before he could continue, you felt Soonyoung's presence behind you, a comforting warmth at your back. His body pressed lightly against yours, a subtle yet possessive gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. His hand slipped around your waist, resting just below your belly, the touch gentle but unmistakably protective.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Everything alright?” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity and a subtle edge.

You could almost feel the shift in the air. The concierge straightened up, his expression flickering between surprise and a polite smile. “Oh, just making sure your stay is perfect,” he said, his tone now more professional, eyes darting between you and Soonyoung.

“Thank you,” Soonyoung replied, his voice steady. His hand didn’t move from its spot on your belly, and the slight squeeze he gave was enough to send a clear message. You leaned back into him, feeling a rush of warmth at his silent claim.

The receptionist finally returned with your room keys, handing them over with a bright, “Welcome to our hotel! We hope you enjoy your stay.” With the keys in hand, you and Soonyoung made your way to the elevator.

As the doors closed, sealing you both from the world outside, you turned to Soonyoung with a smirk. “Looks like someone’s a little possessive.”

He grinned back, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just making sure everyone knows you’re taken.”

You tease him back with a playful smirk. “Well, it’s just a business marriage. You shouldn’t worry about stuff like that,” you say, your tone light and slightly mocking.

Soonyoung scoffs, turning his gaze to the side with a dramatic sigh. “You’re such an idiot,” he mocks, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“An idiot, hm?” you counter, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Well, I’m an idiot you agreed to marry, so I guess that makes you twice the fool.”

He raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Sharp tongue of yours, huh?”

You nod, feigning innocence. “What can I say? I’ve had years of practice.”

Soonyoung leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, it’s a shame. I was really looking forward to giving you something special once we got to our hotel room.”

Your curiosity piques immediately. “Something special? Like what?”

He grins, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, just something that’ll make you remember tonight.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to gauge his meaning. “Something that’ll make me remember tonight, huh? Care to elaborate?”

Soonyoung chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, I think you already know what I’m talking about.”

You narrow your eyes, playfully challenging him. “Do I? Because you’re being awfully vague.”

He leans back, enjoying the game. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

The teasing glint in his eyes only fuels your curiosity further. You know exactly what he’s implying, but you play along, eager to hear him say it outright.

“So,” you press, “what is it? Can you give me a hint?”

Soonyoung’s grin widens, clearly relishing the moment. “Let’s just say it’s something that’ll make you very excited. And not just because of the hotel’s decor.”

You roll your eyes, laughing softly. “Alright, alright. I get it. You’re being all mysterious.”

You sulk, trailing behind Soonyoung as he walks down the hallway toward your room. “Tell me, pleeeease,” you plead.

Soonyoung glances back at you with a mischievous smile. “Nope, not telling,” he says, his grin widening as he enjoys your insistence.

When you reach the door, Soonyoung unlocks it and pushes it open, gesturing for you to enter. You walk in, your eyes scanning the room briefly, but your focus quickly returns to Soonyoung. He places the suitcases by the door and then hops onto the bed, sprawling out with a relaxed sigh.

You stay standing by the door, your arms crossed over your chest, giving him a sulky, upset look.

“So,” Soonyoung says with a defiant glare, “am I forgetting something?”

You pout, trying to look as curious and frustrated as possible. “You’ve got me curious,” you admit, your eyes wide.

He laughs, brushing his hand through his hair with a playful sigh. “You’re almost throwing a tantrum over this?”

Soonyoung slides his hand down his abdomen slowly, getting lower and lower, until he's wrapping his fingers around his cock through his white shorts. The outline is clear, thick, and perfectly defined against the fabric.

He gives it a little shake, a sly smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction.

You stare at him in shock, your knees almost giving way as you take in the sight. Your mouth opens slightly, but no words come out as you struggle to process what you're seeing.

Soonyoung’s smile widens, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Are you surprised?”

He chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Well, I figured it was time to give you a little hint,” he says, his hand still resting casually on his bulge. “So, do you think you’re ready to find out what else I have in store for tonight?”

You stammer, unable to look away from the outline of his cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts. “Do we have to wait until nightfall?”

Soonyoung licks his lips, his gaze never leaving you. “Oh,” he drawls, “but you have to walk properly tonight, so we can go to the restaurant.”

Your eyes darken, a fire igniting within you. “You think I can’t handle all of this inside?”

He raises an eyebrows. “You shouldn’t,” he says, his voice dripping with devilishness. “It’s just a business wedding, after all.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Just a business wedding, huh? You really want to test me?”

Soonyoung chuckles, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “That’s right. Let’s see if you can keep your composure while we enjoy a nice dinner.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Challenge accepted,”

You’ve never been so turned on by someone’s mere presence before. The entire city tour was a cruel game of torture, all at Soonyoung’s hands.

In the taxi, his hand had wandered to your nude thigh, brushing against your skin like a feather. The way his fingers lightly caressed your inner leg made your heart race and your breath catch.

At the restaurant, the casual caresses continued. His leg pressed against yours under the table, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

The warmth of his skin against yours, the way he would occasionally let his knee slide up your thigh—each movement was like an electric current surging through you, leaving you squirming in your seat.

Walking through the jewelry fair was an exercise in restraint. As you admired the sparkling displays, Soonyoung’s hands kept drifting to the exposed skin of your back. His touch was light, almost playful, but each graze against your bare skin made you shiver with need.

You could barely focus on the dazzling jewels in front of you; your mind was consumed with the need for him.

By the time you were back in the elevator, you felt like you were on the edge of losing control. You could feel his eyes on you, sharp and hungry, as you pressed yourself against the wall.

You turned your face away, but you couldn’t hide the truth from him. Your nipples, straining against your dress, betrayed your arousal. Your legs, pressed tightly together, were a clear sign of your desperation. Even your unsteady breaths gave you away.

When you finally arrived at the hotel room, you barely made it inside before your desperation took over.

You throw him against the wall, hands planted firmly on his chest. The sound reverberates through the room, probably making the neighbors wonder what the hell is going on. His usually small eyes are wide, staring at you flaggerblasted.

Your breath mingles with his as you lean in, letting your lips barely graze his. Your voice comes out breathy, almost desperate, “Please. Stop teasing me.”

For a moment, he's stunned, caught off guard by the whininess in your voice and the look on your face—like you might break if he doesn't give you what you need right now.

It's a twisted scenario, considering you're his childhood friend turned wife is standing before him with an expression that borders on agony—an agony only he can alleviate.

For a moment, he looks like he might laugh, but he knows he's on the verge of losing all sense of control, but a part of him relishes the idea.

“Say it again,” he murmurs. He knows he's playing with fire, but he can't resist the thrill. His lips barely brush against yours, teasing, taunting.

“Soonyoung, I'm going to fucking cry if you don't—”

“Hold it,” he commands,you shudder, your breath hitching as he lifts your dress. And you comply, bunching the fabric in your fists to keep it out of the way.

His hand slides down the front of your panties, and your head falls back.

Soonyoung leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear. “You’re so fucking impatient,” he growls.

His fingers slide through your slick folds, finding you wet and wanting, throbbing everytime he rubs his fat fingers on you. “You’ve never even tasted my cock, and you’re already obsessed, huh?” He presses his thumb against your clit, making you gasp. “You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You whimper, your hips bucking against his hand. You can barely think straight. “Please, Soonyoung,” you beg again, your voice cracking.

He chuckles darkly, clearly relishing your desperation. “You want my cock so bad, don't you?” His fingers slide inside you, curling just right, and you cry out. “You want me to fuck you senseless? Make you scream my name?”

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. The words spill out of you, unfiltered and raw. “I want you to ruin me.”

“You’ve never had anyone fill you up like I will,” he says. “I’m gonna stretch you out so good, baby. You’ll be begging for more, even when you can’t take it.”

The dirty talk, the sheer vulgarity of his words, makes you even wetter. You feel like you're on the verge of losing control, and it's rousing.

Soonyoung's fingers pump in and out of you, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. His thumb rubs relentless circles on your clit, and you can feel the tension building, winding tighter and tighter.

“You’re gonna cum on my fingers first,” he whispers. “And then I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight for days. Is that what you want, baby? To be fucked so good, you can’t even think about anything else?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you pant, your voice high and desperate. You can feel the orgasm building, Soonyoung's touch is all-consuming, driving you wild with every stroke.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs.“So eager to please. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

Here and there, Soonyoung is driving you insane with his body affixed to the wall, one strong arm holding your leg up. His wrist swiveling to match his fingers as they explore your weeping cunt and his repetitive rubbing of the areas that cause you to roll your eyes.

You cry out, gasping as you roll your hips onto his fingers, the orgasm making you forget what would be appropriate at the time. Soonyoung's fingers work you through it, drawing out every last drop of you.

As you come down from the high, you realize you're still clinging to him, fingers deep on his muscular shoulders, your breaths coming in hiccups. Soonyoung pulls his fingers out of you, and you feel a pang of loss.

Your legs feel like jelly, and you can barely stand. Soonyoung catches you, pulling you close.

Soonyoung's eyes rake over you, his smirk widening as he takes in the sight of your trembling legs. “You're trembling,” he chuckle. His gaze drops to the slick mess between your thighs, and he bites his lip, clearly reveling in the sight. “Better than this... you're literally dripping,” appreciating.

He lets your leg down, holding you firmly as he guides you back onto the bed. The plush mattress sinks under your weight.

“God forgive me,” he continues, “but if our mothers weren't in that dressing room that day, I would've fucked you right there in the store. With that princess veil of yours... I would've pinned you against the mirror and made you scream my name.”

Your mouth falls open. The image of him taking you into that bridal shop, surrounded by white lace and satin, hitting you like a punch to the gut.

You're not sure what shocks you more: his bold declaration or the way your body reacts to it, growing wetter with every word.

He smirks at your reaction.

“What's the matter, princess? Cat got your tongue?" He teases. His fingers slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs. “Or are you just too turned on to speak?"

He's right; you're completely at his mercy, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a response.

He strips off his shirt, revealing the sculpted lines of his torso, then shucks off his shorts. His erection strains against the fabric of his boxers, and he groans, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he palms himself.

“I could've fucked you on that altar,” he visualize. "In front of all those guests. Just to show everyone that no matter how arranged this marriage was, you're mine. No one else's.”

He opens his eyes, locking onto yours. “I would've spread you open right there, had you screaming my name, showing them all who you belong to."

His dirty words, the way he claims you with every syllable, makes your head spin.

Soonyoung's hand moves over his bulge, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don't even know how much I've wanted you,” he hisses. “How much I want to fuck you senseless, make you mine in every way.”

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. “And tonight, I'm going to do just that. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget about everyone else. Just me, and this cock inside you, filling you up until you can't think straight.”

You squirm, your body responding to his filthy promises. You can't tear your eyes away from him, your mind racing with the possibilities of what the night holds.

Soonyoung's fingers brush against the hem of your dress, and you shudder at the contact. “Take it off,” he orders, his voice rough. “I want you naked, spread out on this bed, ready for me.” His eyes bore into yours, and you know he's not just asking—he's demanding.

You slip your dress over your head, tossing it aside as you finally catch sight of Soonyoung completely naked. His hand moves over his erection, the cockhead glistening with precum. The sight makes you lick your lips.

“Can you—” he starts to ask, but you cut him off, not needing him to finish.

“Yes!” you nearly moan. His eyes darken, a smirk playing on his lips as you drop to your knees in front of him.

You take a moment to appreciate the sight before you. His cock is thick and veined, the head an angry red, glossy with precum. You can almost taste it just from looking.

Tentatively, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the tip, tasting the salty precum on your tongue. It's musky and slightly bitter, but it makes you want to choke on this cock. You swirl your tongue around the head, savoring the taste and the way his breath hitches above you.

Soonyoung's hand tangles in your hair, guiding you closer. “Yes, baby,” he groans, his voice thick with need. “Just like that.”

Encouraged by his reaction, you take him deeper into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. The texture of his cock is smooth yet rigid, the veins pulsating against your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, creating a tight seal as you bob your head, taking more of him with each movement.

His hips jerk forward involuntarily, and you hear a strangled moan escape his lips. “Shit, that feels so good,” he pants, his grip on your hair tightening. You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes meeting his. The sight of him looking down at you, his face twisted in pleasure, spurs you on.

You slide your hand up his thigh, wrapping it around the base of his cock to stroke what you can't fit in your mouth. Your other hand cups his balls, gently massaging them as you continue to suck him.

You hum around his length, sending vibrations through him. He shudders, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. “You're so fucking good at this,” he praises, his voice breathless. “So eager, so perfect.”

You moan around his cock at the praise. You take him deeper, pushing your limits as you feel him hit the back of your throat. You gag slightly but push through, wanting to please him, wanting to show him how much you want this.

“Y/N,” he gasps, his hips bucking forward again. “You're going to make me cum if you keep doing that.”His voice is strained, you don't know if he's warning you or if he's desperate.

You don't let up, doubling your efforts. You suck harder, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head every time you pull back. Your hand continues to pump the base of his cock, matching the rhythm of your mouth. You can feel him throbbing, his cock pulsing with need.

Soonyoung's moans grow louder, more desperate. His breaths come in uneven pants, his body tense with the need for release. “Fuck, Y/N, I'm so close,” he warns, his voice breaking.

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his as you take him even deeper. You want to see him come undone, to watch him lose control because of you. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, and with one last swirl of your tongue, he lets out a choked moan.

He comes hard, his hips jerking as he spills into your mouth. The taste of his release floods your senses, warm and salty. You swallow every drop, savoring the way he trembles above you. His hand in your hair tightens, holding you in place as he rides out his orgasm.

His hand gently strokes your hair after, a contrast to the rough grip from moments before. You pull back, licking your lips and savoring the last taste of him.

He lifts you up effortlessly, his lips crashing into yours. He doesn't care that his cock was just in your mouth seconds ago or that his cum lingers on your tongue. The taste of himself on your lips makes him moan, the sound vibrating between you.

After a moment, he pulls back, one hand wrapping around your throat, not tight but firm enough to make you feel his presence. His eyes bore into yours, as he licks his sensitive lips.

“You were sucking me so good,” he rasps, “that I almost said ‘I love you’.”

A laugh bursts out of you, hearty and genuine, and he watches you with a smirk.

“I swear,” he continues, his tone playful. “if I'd known marrying you would come with benefits like this, I would've done it way sooner.” “I feel like I owe you something after that blowjob,” he says, his voice dropping into a deeper, more sultry tone.

You bite your lip, a dirty thought flashing through your mind, and Soonyoung picks up on it immediately. Soonyoung's gaze narrows, reading the filth in your expression

“What is it? What do you want?” he asks excitedly.

“Can you fuck me… doggy style?” you ask.

“Yes, I can,” The corners of his mouth twitch, barely holding back a grin.

You look up, pretending to be lost in thought, then say, “Can you fuck me in missionary?”

He nods again, biting his lip, his grip on your throat tightening just a little.

“Can you fuck me inside… the shower?”

He presses you tightly against him, his hand gripping your waist possessively, but your gaze still eating him whole.

“I can fuck you upside down, sideways, any way you want, baby,” he answers, his voice steady and confident. “Just say the word, and I'll make it happen.”

You moan in response. Too early to say that you're already dumb for his cock?

“Get on all fours and lift that pretty ass for me.”

As you crawl up the bed, you make sure to put on a show. You arch your back, lifting your ass higher, giving Soonyoung the view he wants. You wiggle it a little, teasing him.

The motion makes your pussy lips part slightly, already slick and ready for him. You can feel his eyes on you, burning with thirst. Without warning, his hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp. You let out a yelp. You know that mark will be there tomorrow, like a postmark, like a stamp, like a reminder of this moment, and the thought makes you even wetter.

He moves behind you, the bed dipping under his weight. You feel his hands on your hips, gripping you firmly as he positions himself. You can't help but push back against him, seeking more contact.

“So fucking perfect,” he mutters, running his hands over the curves of your ass, squeezing the flesh and kneading it roughly. He spreads you open, taking in the sight of your wetness. “Look at how ready you are for me. You're dripping, baby.”

You moan, pushing back against him, desperate for more. “Please, Soonyoung, I need you.”

“Fuck, you sound so desperate,” he taunts, positioning himself behind you. His cock slides against your folds, teasing you, making you whimper. “Beg for it. Beg for my cock.”

“Please, Soonyoung, fuck me,” you whine. “I need your cock inside me, please. I can’t wait any longer.”

He doesn't tease, doesn't make you wait any longer. He thrusts in with one hard, deep stroke, filling you completely. The sudden intrusion makes you cry out, a slight discomfort as your walls stretch around him. But it makes your toes curl.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groans, gripping your hips as he starts to move. “So fucking tight and wet for me. You feel that? That’s my cock stretching your pussy.”

You moan loudly, the pleasure building with each thrust. “Yes, Soonyoung, I feel it. It feels so good. Fuck me harder.”

He picks up the pace, his hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles. The sudden burst of pleasure makes you gasp, your body jolting.

He pulls back slowly, only to slam back in, setting a rough, punishing rhythm, making you roll your eyes back.

He's so deep, hitting spots you didn't even know existed. Each thrust makes you see stars, and you can't help but moan loudly, not caring if the entire hotel hears you. The stretch, the fullness, it's all so overwhelming, so fucking good.

“Come on,” he urges, voice a low growl. “Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you squeeze this cock.”

It's all too much. The feel of his cock, his fingers on your clit, the dirty words spilling from his lips—it all sends you over the edge. The second orgasm of the night making you feel already exhausted. Your voice hoarse, as you feel yourself sloppier between your legs.

There's no mercy in his movements; he's fucking you through your high, pushing you beyond your limits. Each time he hits your cervix, a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain ripples through you, making your arms tremble uncontrollably.

You try to hold yourself up, but your strength falters. With a soft cry, your arms give out, and your chest falls against the bed. Soonyoung lets out a low chuckle, a smug grin spreading across his face as he watches you crumble beneath him. Even with your body slack, you're impossibly tight around him, your pussy squeezing him like a vice.

Soonyoung’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he continues to pound into you from behind. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, stretching you, making your walls clench involuntarily around him.

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear, and you can hear the pride in his voice as he coos, “Aww, look at you. So fucking helpless, so fucking wrecked. You can’t even hold yourself up, can you?”

You can barely muster a response, a breathy whimper escaping your lips as you feel the tears start to stream down your cheeks. It’s an almost incredulous feeling, the tears mixing with the sweat on your face.

You’ve never been fucked like this before, never been pushed to the brink and then beyond, your body betraying you as it trembles under his control. It’s a raw, visceral experience that leaves you gasping for air, your mind a hazy blur of feel.

Soonyoung notices the tears, and his smirk grows wider. “Look at you, crying for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Is it too much, baby? Too fucking good? Love being fucked so hard you can’t even think straight?”

His hand moves from your hip to your hair, tangling his fingers in it and pulling your head back, forcing you to arch your back even more. The angle shifts, and he hits that perfect spot inside you, making you moan loudly, your voice cracking with the intensity of it all.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, his hips snapping forward with even more force. “God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard. It’s like your pussy doesn’t want to let me go.” He punctuates his words with deep, hard thrusts that leave you reeling, each one sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your body.

“So pretty when you cry,” he continues, his tone almost taunting. “I could do this all day, just watch you fall apart on my cock” His words are filthy, degrading, but they ignite something inside you, a desperate need for more.

The way he speaks to you, the way he claims you with each word and each thrust, is addictive.

You can’t hold back your sobs. “Please,” you manage to choke out, not even sure what you’re begging for anymore.

More, less, anything—just something to ease the dizzying sensation coursing through you.

He laughs softly, a dark, knowing sound that makes your skin prickle. “Please what, baby? You want me to stop? You want me to fuck you harder?”

He pulls out almost completely, the emptiness leaving you gasping, and then slams back in with a force that makes your whole body jolt.

“You’re so fucking greedy. Can’t get enough, can you? You want this cock to ruin you, want me to fuck you so good you’ll feel it for days.”

All you can do is moan and sob, your body shuddering with each thrust as he pounds into you. The bed creaks under the force of his movements, it’s dirty, raw, and utterly nasty.

“Gonna make you cum again,” he murmurs, his voice a dark promise.

And as you feel the tension building inside you again, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your belly—you know he’s right.

He lays you gently on the bed, your back sinking into the mattress. Your face, flushed and glistening with sweat, looks completely wrecked, completely exhausted. Soonyoung feels a brief flicker of pity, but it quickly dissipates as you babble out your dirty words, barely coherent but dripping with need. “Please... Soonyoung... more, need you so bad... fuck…”

He smirks, spreading your wobbly legs apart, exposing the slick, swollen mess between them. “You can barely form a sentence, and yet you still want more.”

He slides his cock back inside you, stretching you open once more.

Soonyoung's thumb finds your clit again, and he begins to work it in slow, light-touch circles. The sensation is maddening, a delicious contrast to the deep, methodical thrusts of his cock.

He watches your face intently, drinking in every expression, every gasp and whimper."That's it, baby," he coos. “Let me see that pretty face when you cum.”

You can barely keep your eyes open, your body overly sensitive from the previous orgasms, but he doesn't let up.

His other hand moves to your chest, fondling your breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple before sliding up to wrap around your throat. This time, the grip is firm, real, and you can feel the delicious pressure as he chokes you just enough to make your head spin.

He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving your face.

You cling to him, your arms wrapping tightly around his body, pulling him closer as if you could merge with him, become one. The scent of sweat and skin mingling in the air—it all consumes you.

Your body is trembling, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core, a white-hot band of pressure that threatens to snap. Soonyoung's moans are louder now, but they seem distant, like they're coming from underwater, muffled by the roaring in your ears.

His pace quickens, and you feel yourself losing control, your mind slipping away from the physical world. The room, the bed, even Soonyoung—all of it fades into the background.

There's only the blinding, all-encompassing pleasure that fills every nerve, every cell in your body. It's like being pulled under a wave, the sensation crashing over you with a force that's almost violent.

Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, and you can feel the muscles in your abdomen clenching, the buildup to your orgasm reaching its peak.

And then, it hits. The climax rips through you, a white-hot explosion that leaves you gasping, the world narrowing down to the blinding sensation of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Your back arches off the bed, your mouth opening in a silent scream as your vision goes white. The intensity is mind-numbing, erasing everything else from your mind except the overwhelming euphoria that pulses through you.

Your body shakes with the force of it, your legs quivering, toes curling as the pleasure radiates outward from your core. You can feel the slickness between your thighs, the way your walls flutter and squeeze around Soonyoung, pulling him deeper inside you.

Soonyoung's name falls from your lips in a choked sob, your voice hoarse and trembling.

You slowly come back to reality, feeling the weight of Soonyoung's body on top of you, his cum warm and sticky between your bellies.

Soonyoung pants loudly, trying to catch his breath. He lifts his head slightly to look at you, concern flickering in his eyes despite the satisfied smile on his lips. “You okay, wifey?” he asks.

You manage a weak smile, still feeling the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. “I’m okay, hubby,”

His smile widens, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he murmurs. “You were amazing.”

You chuckle softly, the sound a bit strained. “You weren’t too bad yourself,” you tease, your hand coming up to rest on his back, feeling the muscles still taut from effort.

He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your own. “Glad I could satisfy my wife on our first night together,”

“Think we should clean up?” Soonyoung asks after a while.

“Probably,” you agree, though neither of you makes a move to get up just yet. You’re too content, too wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of each other’s presence.

Eventually, with a reluctant sigh, Soonyoung shifts, carefully pulling away from you. The cool air hits your skin, making you shiver slightly. He helps you sit up, his hands gentle and supportive as you both make your way to the bathroom.

The weight of the wedding ring on your finger feels heavier now, more symbolic than ever. It’s not just a piece of jewelry; it’s a constant reminder of the commitment you’ve made and the life you’re building together.

Soonyoung, despite his own exhaustion, is kneeling beside the tub, gently washing you. His focused expression as he works to make sure you’re clean and comfortable. The sight of him, so dedicated and caring, makes your heart swell.

You feel a pang of guilt as you see the tiredness etched on his face, a reminder of how much he’s given for you, both physically and emotionally. Your legs, still trembling from the aftermath of the passion, had given up on you, leaving you reliant on him. The thought of him taking care of you, even in his weariness, makes you feel both grateful and a bit ashamed.

“Hey,” you say softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “You don’t have to do this. I can manage on my own.”

Soonyoung looks up at you, his eyes softening as he smiles. “I want to,” he says quietly. “You took care of me earlier, and now it’s my turn to take care of you. Besides, it’s kind of nice, being able to do this for you.”

You look him in the eye and sense the truth in his words. His warm, comforting smile belies the weariness that is evident in the lines on his face.

[...]

As you and Soonyoung lie together in bed, the room is quiet except for the soft rustling of the sheets and the occasional sigh from either of you. The memories of what just happened still lingers in the air, making both of you feel a bit shy and stunned.

As Soonyoung lays his head on your chest, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. He sighs contentedly, his fingers lightly tracing patterns around your breast.

“So,” he begins, his voice tinged with both surprise and a hint of playfulness, “when I hinted at what I wanted, I honestly didn’t think you'd go for it. I was kind of... hoping, but also preparing for a rejection.”

You chuckle softly, your fingers running through his hair. “Oh really? And why not?”

“Well, for one, you’re ridiculously hot. I didn’t think you’d be that into it right off the bat.”

You giggle, feeling a rush of confidence. “Oh, come on. Why wouldn’t I? You’re hot, and let’s be honest, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Damn, so you think I’m hot, huh? And here I was thinking I’d have to put in a little more effort.” He rises to look at you, but you make him lay again, your cheeks flushed.

“I can’t believe we managed to go from ‘I do’ to ‘Let’s fuck’ in just a few days. We really don’t waste any time, do we?” You say, grinning.

“Yeah, I guess I underestimated how much I’d resist you, but I knew I was in trouble from the moment we got married… I thought I’d be a strong soldier, holding out a bit longer.”

He hums thinking.

“I’m surprised I managed to hold out for as long as I did.” he finishes.

You raise an eyebrow, a naughty smile playing on your lips. "Well, I guess you’re not as disciplined as you thought. Seems like you fell for me quicker than you’d like to admit.”

Soonyoung’s eyes sparkle. “You’ve got me completely hooked.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, your hand resting on his cheek. “Poor soldier. Captured by the enemy and all. What will you do now?”

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. "I guess I’ll just have to surrender to you completely.”

“Even the strongest can fall. And let’s be real, I’m pretty good at making sure my soldiers surrender.” You shrugged, smirking.

He bursts into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, you really know how to make a guy feel like a total pushover.”

“I plan on keeping you hooked, you know—well, at least until the next time we have a ‘conversation’ like tonight."

“Well, if this is what marriage looks like, I think I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”

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