#kyungsoo fics

[webyixing]

dead poet's society.

em caso de inspiração, me credite.

03/03/25 | capa teste disponível.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Rat Bastard - Part 1

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 7700

Warnings/Tropes: Strong Language, There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers

Links: Part 1, Part 2

You were due for some good.

Genuinely and honestly you could feel it. You were due for something good to happen to you. So much lately had been so very bad. This kind of bad luck seemed defy all the odds. Surely, surely this impressive streak of the universe opening its big cavernous mouth and vomiting all over your head could not, absolutely should not keep going. You were due. Something good. Anything good. For the love of God, it wasn’t as if you were a bad person. It wasn’t as if you routinely bet on dog fights and stole money from the big charity jar for the sick kids next to the register. You’d never ever, not once in your life even so much as looked at a dog or a kid funny. You never raised your voice or lost your temper. You didn’t yell at service workers. You didn’t deserve the cataclysm of shit that had been flung your way and even if, okay maybe… maybe once or twice you’d told a white lie, it was only to spare someone’s feelings. Maybe you’d stolen a piece of candy from a corner store as an ignorant child. Maybe you stepped on an ant or a fly or a spider but you swear none of it had been on purpose. You weren’t a bad person, not in the way that those bad people who get punished by the universe are punished, that wasn’t you. This shit storm had to end soon. It just had to.

You had been repeating this to yourself during the entire flight. During the entire, eerily empty flight with the single flight attendant who occasionally looked up and smiled at you when you made eye contact and uttered out a sweet, “you alright, hon?” When your own smile dipped just a little too far as the turbulence grew to what you were sure had to be abnormal levels.

The plane was one of those tiny propeller planes. The kind that had a whopping nine seats total and what every creak and groan of its rusted out nuts and bolts barely holding the thing together as it fought through the high winds outside and sent shivers down your spine.

What if this was it? What if that pilot had flown this thing right smack over the Bermuda Triangle and your rotten shit ass luck sent the three of you down into a watery grave nestled up beside Amelia Earhart and her tangled barnacle covered wreckage at the bottom of the sea.

No.

No, you were due for something good.

“Is it normally this loud?” You shouted across the tiny airplane cabin but the lone flight attendant had her head turned as she peered through the open cockpit door. She didn’t hear your question and offered you no reassurances as she stood up, straightened her uniform, a tasteful pantsuit, and disappeared through the open doorway

“Fasten your seatbelt and prepare for landing, Hon,” she popped her head back out for the quick announcement and disappeared through the space again, leaving you completely alone to contemplate your own mortality and what you hoped would be a swift end. It felt impossible. You hadn’t even been able to see land from outside your window. It had been endless ocean for hours now. Maybe you wouldn’t even feel the impact. Maybe the adrenaline dump would protect your dying mind and body from the pain that came from with a water impact. Your knuckles were bright white as you gripped your armrests and you remembered that one episode of MythBusters that said the best position for a plane crash was with your body bent in two and your head tucked down between your legs.

The plane was shaking terribly. It was rattling and screeching. You were clenching down so hard on your teeth you half wondered if you might knock a few of them loose. You were praying to yourself with your eyes squeezed up tight and you wrapped your arms tightly around your thighs doing your best to hold yourself together even if this plane fell apart around you. There was a boom. You hoped you wouldn’t pee your pants but thought you might be justified if you did. The search and rescue team would understand as the collected your remains.

The roaring and trembling of this world around you creaked and moaned and swayed and eventually you could feel the change of speed deep inside your chest as everything, every groan and strain and clench came to a stop with a dramatic throwback on the landing that jostled your body and made you feel positively seasick.

The plane had stopped.

You were not dead.

“Ladies and Gent—” The pilot's voice broke through the tiny speaker over your head. You pulled your sweaty head up from your lap and looked through the still open cabin door as the man speaking paused for a moment to consider his words, “uhh…just lady, we welcome you to La Malinche Island. The temperature is a damp and balmy 89 degrees Fahrenheit and dropping as the winds pick up. Not sure what possessed you to fly to a tiny island in the Caribbean right before a hurricane hit but Barracuda Air does not want to know your business. We only care about our promise to you. Our promise of course, at Barracuda Air, with a … 0% flight cancellation rate, not counting that one incident with Jerry — be it rain or snow or sleet or hail, Barracuda Air does not care. Barracuda Air will get you there. Welcome to La Malinche. We hope you like 150 mile-per-hour winds and torrential rain.”

Hurricane? Is that was the roaring and terrifying shaking has been about? A goddamned hurricane?!

You’d checked the weather last week. There was zero mention of a hurricane. You pulled your cell phone out of your back pack and turned off airplane mode and you watched the cell service signal in the upper right hand corner spin and spin. It eventually gave up and gave you the saddest little no signal sign and you toggled airplane mode on and off again with the same terrible result.

But…but…

You were due.

“Thank you for flying Barracuda Air.” Your flight attendant was standing near the exit at the front of the plane; her voice just loud enough for you to hear it; her smile just wide enough for you to get the message.

You tried your phone one more time, this time turning the whole thing off and turning it on again while holding it up high above your head to be able to catch the signal better. You just needed a minute for it to come back on. You only needed one bar, one bar would be enough.

“Thank you for flying Barracuda Air.” This time her voice was closer. She was standing at your row now, her voice betrayed none of the urgency implied with the repetition. Her smile was still believable enough.

You looked down at the useless paperweight in your hands and outside of the window on the tarmac below, you watched the lone airport employee wheeling your checked bag away from the airplane. The wind whipped his rain jacket around his body fiercely in all directions and you swallowed down the very real sense of dread that was beginning to fill your stomach.

This was supposed to be a vacation. This was supposed to be paradise. It had been advertised as such in the brochure. The single’s retreat at the five star resort where only other eligible global singles of extremely high caliber would attend. The probably very expensive luxury retreat that was a gift from your very best friend in the entire world, Clare, who sold you on the idea that here — here you would surely find your soulmate. One that would be as delighted to meet you and you were to meet them.

Here you would be the most beautiful and captivating woman any of these sad, but not clinically; lonely, but not in a creepy way; brooding but not in a mean way; hurt and broken but not broken in some way that some sweet woman’s attention couldn’t fix — you’d be the most womanly woman any of these manly men had ever seen!

Definitely not the kind of man that still lived with an overbearing mother, but one who still loved his mother very much, but maybe lived far enough away from her that he didn’t have to listen to everything she told him anymore. Hell, maybe you’d get lucky and land a man with a dead mother. No, no, no. No need to be greedy.

But the kind of man — no, the kind of men who were very, very attractive.

They were going to be tall with clean skin and clean teeth and they’d be successful, but not too successful. They were smart, but not annoyingly so. Oh! And charming! But most importantly, they were men who would find you to be absolutely irresistible. These men were supposed to be waiting for you. They were going to be beside themselves when they got a load of you. They were going to flirt with you and call you sweetheart or darling with a southern drawl or and they would buy you drinks and feed you cheesy lines about how they’d never before seen a woman that held galaxies inside of her eyes like yours did.

“Ma’am,” a voice called to you, sharper than before, “you need to get off the plane. The airport is closing because of the storm. You can't stay here.”

You hadn’t even unbuckled your seat belt yet.

God forbid they give you a damn minute.

It was a disaster.

You quickly gathered all of your belongings. The flight attendant had pulled your carry-on bag down from the overhead bin and her smile had long since vanished as she held it out for you to take and get the hell off her plane already. You grabbed the handle, no longer grateful for her help. No longer thankful for the small bag of peanuts she’d fed you earlier or the two cans of soda she’d handed you hours ago. She was ushering you down the aisle, through the exit door, and had watched you navigate the scary stairs until you plopped your two feet right down into the cement of the tarmac belonging to the smallest airport you had ever visited in your entire life.

The wind came at you in waves. One second you were sure this whole hurricane thing had been exaggerated and the next your hair was taken and spun around your head, whipped into some sort of frenzied do as strands hit your cheeks like tiny, stinging whips. You did your best to grab ahold of it with one hand but lost your cardigan in the process. It flew a few feet and landed on the floor in a brown puddle of water beside the door with a hand-printed arrow directing you to open it for Baggage Claim.

You were an adult. You had been a responsible, self-sufficient adult for some years now. You had found yourself in situations that required you to navigate this cold cruel world by yourself before but as you reached down and picked up your sweater and watched the muck drip in slow, fat, thick drops from the once pristine knit fabric, you suddenly felt more alone than you’d ever felt in your entire life.

Behind you, far beyond this mystery puddle, the only one in this entire dry concrete hell; somewhere on that small runway you heard the Barracuda revving its engines for take off.

Maybe you weren’t due for anything good to happen in your life ever again. Maybe it was just going to be shit from now on.

Had you somehow brought all of this on yourself? Maybe it had been the bad thoughts you’d had. The ill wishes you’d genuinely hoped to fall on those who had done you dirty in your life. Your recent ex-boss, you’d hoped and prayed would face a bout of public uncontrollable diarrhea. Your ex-coworker who’d stolen work from you, lied about you and sabotaged you and who you believed led to you being fired, you hoped she would be hit by a city bus, not enough to kill her but you hoped at least three bones would be broken.

The ex boyfriend who cheated on you with your ex friend, you hoped the both of them would sail off into the sunset and be lost as sea, eaten by a whale or something scarier with suckers and sharp teeth.

And most recently, that friend of a friend, that charming, sweet, funny, and handsome man who would be absolutely perfect for you, according to Claire who set you both up — the blind date who not only stood you up, leaving you to wait for him for a whole hour at the fancy ass restaurant, but also, in some wacky attempt to tarnish your good name told all of your friends that you were in fact the one who flaked on the date. You could not imagine why he couldn’t have just come clean. Well you weren’t going to let him win. He was trying to play the victim when in fact you had been the loser who was stood up. You denied it earnestly. He maintained his lie and you both had been stuck in a bitter stalemate ever since. Any gathering of friends where he was scheduled to be there, you refused to attend. You heard through various sources that he had a similar reaction to the threat of your presence and this only fanned the flames even hotter. Any time his name was uttered in pleasant company you rolled your eyes and made snide remarks under your breath. Doh Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo. Chef Doh. Decorated and celebrated private chef, a genius with a knife and a frying pan. You wanted to vomit.

After a while the fight moved from only inside your own head to the real world. He would leave sarcastic replies to some of the things you said to your friends. Things you told them with love and respect would get a passive aggressive laughing reaction from him or some sort of contrary comment right below yours. You both evolved into taking little snips at each other in the comments of your mutual friends' social media posts and like the good friends they were, everyone of them politely ignored it.

Just, how dare he? There was nothing worse than men who lie. You hoped at the time that he would be exposed for the fake and liar that he was, although now as you wandered through this empty airport this punishment seemed not enough for your shitty mood. In this moment you hoped and prayed that he would have been the one trapped on a deserted island with a hurricane bearing down over his head. Even his name and profile picture filled you with an irrational rage. That sweet and innocent looking, fake ass motherf—

Wait.

Wait one goddamn minute.

Your forward movement abruptly stopped and you stood with your luggage in your hand on the sidewalk of an empty and deserted airport with no cell reception and no idea how to get to the hotel.

Wasn’t all this doom to my enemies wishing how you got yourself cursed by the universe? Was all of this really your own doing?

You took a step, trying to remember if the hotel was situated within walking distance of the airport. Trying to recall it was to the west or to the east or if maybe it was to the south.

This was a tiny island. Maybe it wasn’t that far. Maybe if you wandered around town someone might point you in the right direction and you wouldn’t be mugged or mudered.

You closed your eyes for a split second and smelled something crisp and funny in the air. You could feel the hairs on your arm standing on end and a feeling of panic surged through you as the first fat raindrops began to fall from the sky at the same time as an ear deafening boom sounded out over your head. It was so loud it shook the roof over your head.

You screamed and covered your head, taking several big steps back and away from the empty parking lot where the blinding flash of lightning must have struck.

There was a gross taste inside of your mouth. Your rational brain attributed it to the close lightning strike but you knew deep down what that taste really was.

It tasted like you might be about to make a deal with the devil. You shouted right out loud into the air above your head, “Doh Kyungsoo is great! I misunderstood him! He is a prime example of a man and a genuinely good person! I hope his pillow is always cold and his toast is never burnt!”

You knew it was silly. You were a silly lady.

Of course it was silly.

It wasn’t as if the skies would magically clear, the whipping winds would calm and five taxis would drive up each more eager than the last to drive you to your luxury resort for free.

You did hear something new and unexpected though. Something that had you spinning around to investigate.

There was a man standing behind you. He wore a clean crisp suit and a very wide and bright inviting smile on his face. He had cleared his throat. This respectable gentleman clearly had something to say to you.

“Yes?”

His smile widened with your acknowledgement, “Hello. My name is Mr. Chen. I’m the Concierge with Shifting Sands Resort, are you by chance Miss—” his eyebrows lifted and he extended a hand, palm up, the beginnings of your name formed on his lips.

“Oh my God, yes. I am her. She is me. Oh, thank you, thank you!”

His smile deepened and his eyes turned up into little moons on his pretty face and the relief that surged through you was complete and instantaneous.

“Might I take your bags, Miss?”

Was this man your savior? Would he have come to your rescue all along? Or was Doh Kyungsoo your karmic stabilizer?

You were loaded up and buckled in and well on your jolly way to your promised paradise of pampering and relaxation. Dare you wish for a handsome man or two desperately waiting to make your acquaintance?

Maybe you’d even settle for just one. One handsome and suave proper gentleman to spend the week with; to wine and dine with; to sweep you off your feet. Surely this entire trip wouldn’t be a complete waste. Surely you hadn’t dug yourself down that far deep yet.

Your driver had been maneuvering the big comfy van in silence up until now but you caught his kind eyes glance back at you in the rear view.

“Mr. Chen, please tell me some other people have showed up for this singles retreat.”

His eyes held on to yours for only a few seconds and his lips were pursing together in more thought than you figured was necessary.

“Ummm…” his voice trailed, “well…actually…”

His eyes drifted away from yours under the guise of watching the non existent traffic on this scenic road that, had it not started raining, might have been a beautiful drive.

You weren’t sure what kind of sacrifices the universe demanded. You wanted just one. You didn’t even ask for much, just another living breathing human male who was the complete opposite of that slimey, slandering, thought he was slicker than a bowl of shit, Doh Kyungsoo.

The car screeched to a halt and your seatbelt caught and firmly locked you into place, digging hard enough into your neck to leave a mark. The rain outside pelted the roof of the van, much harder now and Mr. Chen seemed to be breathing quite hard as he tripped the steering wheel tightly enough to turn his knuckles white.

“Miss, are you alright? I am sorry, this road is blocked. We will need to take another way around.”

Jesus. The near kiss with death had you gripping your seat very tightly and you closed your eyes.

That…that…ass— as lovely on the inside as on the outside, Doh Kyungsoo.

That saintly and angelic man.

That accurate and symmetrical and pragmatic and punctual, Doh Kyungsoo.

You could feel yourself running out of adjectives. What is the opposite of a rat bastard?

That legitimate, law-abiding, insured, and licensed to drive, Doh—

“Ahh, what were you asking? Other guests? Yes miss, of course. The singles retreat — well, we don’t have nearly the crowd we expected but there is at least one other guest who you should find most agreeable. He is very handsome and charming. All of the other staff members are positively enraptured by him already. Especially the ladies, but I have to admit I myself felt a bit of a flutter when he caught me in those big brown eyes of his.”

It worked. It fucking worked.

Son of a bi — son of a w-wise and gentle lady probably — what the hell did you know about his mother? She raised a f-fine excuse for a son, that much you knew. A real piece of work— err — art! A piece of art. A real, honest to god, adult male human being. You really needed to get that man out of your head. You could actually feel the first real dangerous slips into madness the more his name and his profile picture danced through your head.

You closed your eyes tight and you tried your absolute best to think about someone else. Anyone else. The mystery man who you were about to meet. The tall, dark, handsome, sweet and successful man who would sweep you off your feet the moment you met him.

The alternate route to the resort was down right pleasant. It was scenic and beautiful and you looked out the window as you drove the long way around, the very deserted road that took you along the breathtaking coastline. You continued the almost ritualistic positive compliments in your head Mr. Chen was chock full of his own compliments for the handsome and admirable guest who was to be your only other companion during this week’s retreat.

You were fine with that. Even if it didn’t turn into love — by the sounds of him and based on how Mr. Chen absolutely raved, you were sure the two of you would get along quite well and maybe even become good friends once this whole thing was over.

The fancy resort was as lovely and beautiful as the brochures had promised, yet your chest felt tight with apprehension. Something was wrong. There was nobody here. Mr. Chen profusely apologized for the shortness of staff due to the incoming storm which from the sounds of the serious news reports you could hear playing on the overhead television in the empty lobby, was already wrecking a neighboring island. The huge and scary category 4 hurricane which threatened to turn into a category 5 at any moment now and who’s outer bands were already knocking trees down outside and whipping rain fiercely against the windows. This wasn’t even the real storm and the wind and sheets of water hitting the window outside sounded so scary. It even sounded as if the building itself was moaning under the pressure of the wind outside. The longer you stood in this enormous and astonishingly empty building, it was becoming more and more evident that maybe you shouldn’t be here at all. Here you stood, your presence alone putting these people in danger. You, the only insane person who stubbornly refused to accept the reality of this storm. Not only would not be the relaxing and love connecting vacation you had been preparing for, but what if something really bad happened to you here? What if you died on this island? Fuck love, fuck men, fuck that man, Doh Kyungsoo in particular — what if you actually died here?

There seemed to be some sort of serious whispered discussion taking place between Mr. Chen and two other uniformed employees of the resort.

You weren’t being checked into your room. In fact, you still had your own bag in your hand and there wasn’t some moist young whippersnapper scooping your bags up to lead you to your room so you could snack on strawberries and cream and sip on champagne.

Someone made eye contact with you. There was a small regretful smile on her face and you caught the deep chest filling breath Mr. Chen took as he looked away from your curious face. It took him a moment of looking away before he exhaled, closed his eyes briefly to collect himself and the same rueful smile took over his face when he turned to come to you, taking several large steps to return to your side, he looked up into your face and carefully began to speak to you. His voice sounded grave and serious.

“Miss, I am,” he lifted a hand and laid his palm over his chest, “extremely, terribly sorry.” His eyes were sad, his eyebrows curved his face into a grimace, “I have received some bad news. The resort will have to close. We have lost power to all of the guest rooms. The ballroom was flooded, as it was closest to the ocean. The kitchens are down. It seems we are in an emergency situation due to the storm.”

This felt like a bad dream. Maybe you had fallen asleep on the plane and when you woke up it would be a bright sunny day in paradise like you’d been promised.

“We will all need to leave. The other guests have already been moved. I’m so sorry, Miss, of course the entirety of the cost of the stay will be refunded. We are prepared to offer a free week’s stay at any of our resorts for you and a guest to use at a time of your choosing. But right now we must go. The roads are beginning to flood and we can only go to the shelter at the highest point on the island. We have to move quickly before the storm surge.”

“Storm surge?” You could feel the panic and upset building inside of you. “Sh-shelter?” You knew it was evident in your voice. “The other guests were moved?” You looked outside the window. Anyone with any sense at all knew there was very real danger happening out there.

“Other guest. Sorry, there is only the one guest. I apologize but you both will need to bunk together in the barracks. The generators should last throughout the storm. There is no other place to go.” Mr. Chen was talking but you felt dazed. You were ushered into a different vehicle and the other staff members climbed in beside you. Mr. Chen was still talking about the place where you were being taken. Something about a room full of bunks, used during some historical war between two countries that didn’t exist anymore. Something about the man, the only other single from this god forsaken Singles Retreat. He was to be your bunk-mate. He, a complete stranger, was supposed to share the very large and spacious barracks with you. There would be ample space for you to spread out, as the space was designed for armies of 20 soldiers or more, but you were not to fear because Mr. Chen and his staff would be right next door should either of you need any assistance.

The road up the hill was bumpy and hectic. This vehicle was obviously well equipped to handle the rough trip, but you still found yourself jostled around, feeling seasick with the swaying back and forth and big bumps the wheels traveled over.

You began to think you might not make it. The queasiness from the ride had you closing your eyes and trying to breathe through it. Begging and pleading that you would not be sick inside this vehicle. You took deep steadying breaths through your nose, exhaling through your mouth, willing your overly sensitive stomach to calm down. The big truck soon began to slow and eventually crawled to a stop.

“I — I need to get out,” you mumbled just under your breath, unbuckling the seat belt and pushing yourself toward the door. You reached for it and pulled the handle, kicking hard with your feet. The rain was falling hard outside and you leaned over, breathing deeply as the raindrops quickly soaked your entire head.

You couldn’t meet him yet. Not like this. Not schrodinger's man of your dreams. Not fighting nausea while looking exactly like a drowned rat as you were babied by some kind hotel worker who probably shouldn’t be getting wet in the rain like this.

The cooling effects of the rain helped to calm the nausea and you felt a hand at your shoulder a moment before the deluge of rain falling over your head stopped. Someone had placed an umbrella over you. Someone was leaning into you; the staff woman from the hotel was talking to you.

“Miss, are you alright?” She rubbed a comforting warm palm over your back between your shoulder blades in slow and careful circles. You opened your eyes, noticing first the soft swell of what had to be a baby in her belly before you looked into her concerned face. She looked to be pretty far along too. She was probably due any week now. Her name tag said Sara and she had kind eyes.

You forced your shoulders back and pushed a smile upon your face. You worked for it and did your best to straighten out the expression on your face, gripping the stick of the umbrella and angling it so it covered more of her body. You’d be damned if you gave some expecting mother pneumonia just because you’d always had an overly sensitive stomach and the Barracuda Air pretzels were sitting funny.

“I’m okay. Just got a little carsick but it’s passed now that I’m out of the car. Let’s hurry inside before we get too wet.”

Your belongings were already rushed inside the drab, depressing, tan colored cement walled building that was to be your shelter for the next week or so and you rushed inside quickly with Sara stepping inside right behind you.

There was a click of the big heavy doors and aside from the two small windows next to the door, there wasn’t much in here for natural lighting. There was a musty smell in here and a thick layer of dust over most of the surfaces.

“I really am sorry that things have ended up this way, Miss.” Sarah waved hand back and forth in front of her face, waving away some of the dust in the air. She didn’t pause for long enough for you to absolve her of any guilt related to this messed up situation before she was speaking again, this time stepping further inside the space. There was a hallway up ahead that she turned into.

“If you could follow me, I’ll show you the room with the bunks and introduce you to Mr. Doh, our other guest. We changed all of the bedding so it’s clean and the space really is quite big.”

She was walking away from you as she kept taking. You felt a strange tickle along your scalp. A raindrop rolled down the back of your head, tickling its way down inside of your hair.

Did she say Mr. Doh? That same dream-like feeling that had been haunting you ever since you’d stepped off of that airplane returned.

Sara was turning a door handle and she had both of her hands pressing on a door.

“I’m sorry, what did you say his name is?”

“I’ll introduce you,” she smiled widely and leaned her head in closer to you as she dropped her voice, “He’s not that tall but he’s so, so, so handsome. He’s funny and witty too. I’m sure you’ll get along.” She said this last part with a genuine giggle of excitement. “I am just so excited!” She squealed. The eagerness in her face had a feeling of dread building inside of your belly. That stubborn queasiness you’d felt before returned.

The room was empty. Of course it was empty. Bunk beds lined each wall and a center aisle just wide enough for a person to pass through single file separated the rows of bunks and on one of the beds, the one closest to the door sat a black travel bag. A dripping rain jacket was hung over the metal frame of the upper bunk and whoever owned these items was not around.

“Oh, he was…just here…” Sara was spinning around, reacting to a sound, the sound of a door opening and your eyes followed to catch the movement of a person, a human, a man as he emerged from what you imagine was a bathroom. His head covered with a small white towel and a tanned arm rubbed swiftly over his straight black hair. On his torso, he wore only a simple white t-shirt and the fabric was too thin. The rain shower he’d been caught in made the shirt nearly transparent.

It only took a moment.

You knew what was going on.

It took less than a second for your eyes to touch deep inside of his big round brown eyes and you knew in an instant; you knew exactly who this Mr. Doh was, this esteemed and honored guest of the Shifting Sands Resort, you knew who he was and you knew exactly what this was — this man who stood in front of you; this man who was not very tall but so, so, so, and yes she was right, so handsome — because he was very handsome; even you could admit that, of course he was.

You wouldn’t have agreed to that idiotic blind date with him in the first place if you hadn’t found him to be incredibly attractive, with his clean skin, soft as hell full lips, achingly deep brown and oh so judgemental eyes, sexy and strong back, bulging arm muscles; his goddamned smart ass comments, and annoying as shit filthy lies that he told to tarnish your reputation with at least four good friends — this man who dropped the towel slowly as his eyes looked into your own stunned ones, this was that man; the one and only, Doh Kyungsoo.

You knew exactly who he was. The rat bastard, Doh Kyungsoo and you knew exactly what this situation was.

You were dead.

You had died in that airplane; gone down in the Caribbean Sea with the rest of the Barracuda Air flight and cabin crew.

You were dead and this was hell.

If your face betrayed the shock you felt right now, Sara didn’t notice. She must not have been paying any attention to you at all. She simply giggled as she gave her sweet introduction of you, raising a hand out palm up as she called out your name and recited some lame facts about you and what kind of man you were looking for in a relationship. Facts that you’d haphazardly typed out during the registration process for this Singles Retreat from hell, she said them all with a wide smile and a small silent clap of excitement as she got the words out.

Sara recited from memory, straight from your own mindless words, “Her ideal man is someone who is funny and witty. Someone who is just the perfect height for plenty of eye contact — and of course a man smells nice and is handsome.” Her hand motioned over and around his pretty face as if she simply could not help herself.

His eyes were wide with just as much genuine surprise in them as you had in yours.

Sara continued her introductions, bringing that palm right back around in front of his chest, at an even level with the nipples you could just make out through the sheer fabric of the wet t-shirt, and she proudly declared, “this is Doh Kyungsoo. His ideal woman is someone who’s as kind as she is honest and trustworthy. She is someone with an iron stomach who isn’t afraid to try new foods and explore new adventures with him.”

You felt too stunned to move. There was no way this was really happening. You felt the room spinning and it reminded you a lot of sitting with your head down between your knees as that airplane fell out of the sky. The same feeling as bouncing around the back seat of that off road truck that brought you up this hill to this bunker out of the immediate threat of the hurricane that blasted outside and into the waiting arms of a much more agonizing threat.

Sara had finished her introductions. Neither of you moved.

He was the first to break the silence.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His question was blunt. He hadn’t bothered with appearances or with how abrupt and callous his question was, or with how full of disgust that expression on his face might appear to Sara.

He never once considered just how far down her shoulders might deflate to have the cold hard truth splashed in her face. That not only did not you check a single one of his boxes, but you might very well be the last woman on this entire earth that he might fall in love with.

That he’d rather sneak out the back door after catching a glimpse of you waiting for him, all gussied up with your cheap drug store makeup and little black dress from the clearance racks at Target — a specimen so far below his level that he couldn’t even spare you the humiliation of faking a smile all the way to dessert before ghosting you the next day; instead he’d rather leave you stranded and embarrassed. Having to foot the bill yourself for your three glasses of white wine and no entree. Having to suffer through the pitiful glances of the waitstaff as they took turns asking if you were “still waiting for someone,” all the while knowing you’d been abandoned and publicly marked as unlovable.

“Me?!” You were too blindsided for tact. Your indignation at his bluntness filled you with just as many questions as he must have had in that pretty, stupid head of his.

“Why you?”

Once the first question was out, the second came out with gusto. He balked and his eyebrows furrowed. His fist clenched around the towel he was holding. You reached down deep within your diaphragm and the words came out too loudly.

You couldn't help the anger you felt. This was supposed to be your Prince Charming. This was supposed to be paradise. You opened your mouth and you let it fly. The frustrations from the trip so far, from the sham of a blind date, from being so unethically and undeservedly fired from your job, that fucking hurricane outside that stole the 5-star resort from under your feet and plopped you down inside this musty concrete prison from the 1940s and the words came out of you as if you threw them hard right into the eye of that hurricane outside.

“Why is it you?! Why are you the Mr. Doh that she is introducing me to?!”

“Because that is my name!!” His voice level rose higher and you actually flinched at the sudden volume he used. This motherfucker. How dare he shout at you. And in front of Sara. The poor girl took two steps away from the both of you and covered her belly with both of her arms.

“Why are you yelling?!” You took a step into him and shouted right back, right into his face. You needed answers for his awful behavior. He did not retreat. You could smell the light cologne he wore from this close.

“Because you yelled at me first!!”

His clenched fist gripping the towel tight was lifted, his eyes were wide, and his voice had so much more power than yours ever could that you nearly cowered. You almost backed down and backed off. Almost. He was clearly just as stubborn as you were.

Also the words he said took only one second to sink in and your next bit of anger got caught inside of your throat, refusing to come out.

Damn. He was right. You did yell first. It was you who did it first.

You’d just been so caught up in your awful mood that seeing him standing in here, knowing that what this man already knows about you would basically ruin your chances of finding any other man here to trick into falling madly in love with you. What if he told them all about your messy life. You hadn’t bothered concealing any of your recent failures on social media. You’d obsessively scrolled through his own profiles often enough to know that not only was this man a work-a-holic, but he was a big ol’ nerd. You figured he had done the same with you since some of his recent digs at you in Claire’s comments had been about you being recently liberated from your job. You’d been in his circle for long enough to know plenty about him, you were sure he had all of the dirt on you. You stepped back and away from him. From a normal distance he didn’t smell so damned nice.

“Oh I did, didn’t I?” you said in a much more normal tone, “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

Your apology was as abrupt as the yelling had been, but it seemed to have a bigger effect on him. His eyes seemed to grow softer or perhaps just more confused and he blinked rapidly as his focus touched lightly around all edges of your face.

“Sara, not this one,” you pulled your eyes away from his face, not quite finding the conviction to be able to fully look away from him, but your words were at least directed away from him and onto the woman who stood three feet away from you with what you almost thought was a fully enthralled expression on her face.

“Do you have any others?”

Kyungsoo made a sound. It was a scoff mixed with a grunt. It was disgruntled. You pulled your mouth into the sweetest fake smile you could manage and directed all of that sweetness at him.

“I mean the room, of course.”

“Sara, I think I’d also like to switch to another room. This one seems to have something fundamentally wrong with it.” Kyungsoo said without taking his eyes off of your face, “it’s not for me. This place seems undeservingly high maintenance and might even have some nasty pests hidden in the walls. I bet they really come out at night.”

Sara was silent for long enough for you to actually need to look at her. When you did, you smelled trouble. Sara was smiling. It was the kind of smile you got sometimes when you found a great drama to watch and you knew that these two wacky characters were about to thoroughly ruin each other's lives before they fell in love.

Her eyes were bouncing back and forth between you and Kyungsoo and with each pass her smile only widened.

“Sara.” You said in a flat tone. You had seen enough romantic comedies to know what she was thinking. “Sara, no. Not in a million years.”

She was giggling and nodding her head now.

“There are no other rooms.” She said with a voice three octaves higher than normal and she was giggling as she said it. “This is the only room.”

“You can’t even leave because there’s a hurricane outside.” She was outright laughing.

“I have to go tell Mr. Chen everything,” she whispered to herself and she was rushing toward the door, pulling it open with all of her might and vanishing through the opening much faster than you thought a woman in her delicate condition should be allowed to move.

“Sara, I swear to god,” you shouted down the dark hallway that she disappeared down, “Sara!” But she was long gone and behind you the huffing and puffing, very put-out man was grabbing every single bit of his belongings from his bed and moving them all down to the bed at the farthest end of this enormous room, putting himself and his itty bitty towel and his sheer white t shirt with his visible nipples physically as far away from you as possible.

It was actually funny to see him throwing such an obvious fit.

“I can see your nipples through your wet t-shirt, you know.” You said it under your breath but not at all trying to not be heard.

“I’m not the only one in this room with a wet t-shirt, Princess. Between the two of us, your nipples are far more eventful than mine,” he sing-songed back, using as much sarcasm as he could manage with the pejorative he used as a nickname for you.

You gasped covering your chest with both hands — the liar. The damned liar. There was no way. But when you looked down, you could very clearly make out nearly every detail of the entire shape and outline of your breasts, even the dark circles of your nipples in the center stood out. Cold and wet with your precious cardigan long tossed in the trash can back at the airport after it got wet in the puddle and you left with only the sheer bra you stupidly decided to wear under this light pink colored shirt and the hope that maybe, maybe this was one of those countries that didn’t extradite murderers and you might get away with killing him in his sleep tonight.

Links: Part 1, Part 2

[baekhyunsbestie]

⟢ : RIDE !? ★.ᐟ

exo x f!reader ; the exos wanna take u for a ride! ⟢ requested by this qt anonie <3 ty babie!

content: 18+/mdni. 4.4k+ words. explicit language. unprotected p in v. teasing. edging. possessiveness. power dynamics. hair pulling. lil bit of manhandling. breeding kink. praise kink.

⟢ BOY NEXT DOOR!

ft. neighbor!jongin

you’ve spent the last six months watching him.

late nights on your balcony, pretending not to notice when he steps out onto his own, shirtless, damp with sweat from the gym, his muscles still flushed with exertion. the way the city lights skim over his skin, highlighting the sharp ridges of his collarbones, the deep cut of his abs. mornings in the hallway, his cologne thick in the air, clinging to your senses, making your stomach tighten as you pass the spot where he just stood. accidental run-ins—mailboxes, grocery store aisles, the slow, stifling pause of the elevator—each one leaving you burning, aching, drenched in something unspoken.

jongin has always been just out of reach, the kind of man who makes you want to fucking sin.

but tonight? tonight, there’s nothing stopping you. no teasing glances, no careful distance, no heavy pauses thick with restraint. just the weight of his body pressing you into the couch, the sharp gasp you let out as he fills you, stretching you wide, stuffing you full.

“fuck—” he groans, head dropping back, fingers digging bruises into your hips. his jaw is tight, his breath ragged, sharp exhales punched through parted lips as he watches you take him, inch by inch, walls clenching around the perfect shape of him, struggling to accommodate the stretch.

he’s thick, perfect, the kind of dick made to ruin you—veined and hot, a slight curve that drags against every sensitive spot inside you as you roll your hips, the drag slow, devastating.

“been thinking about this, haven’t you?” you tease, nails tracing down his abs, feeling the way they flex beneath your touch, the way he shudders as you squeeze around him.

his grip tightens, his head falling forward, breath hot against your skin. “baby, you have no fucking idea.”

his voice is wrecked, like he’s been aching for this just as long as you have—like the months of stolen glances, the late-night tension, the whispered fantasies have all been leading to this moment. but you’re not done teasing him yet.

you lift up, just enough for the head of his cock to press right against your entrance, before sinking down slow, letting out a soft, breathy moan as he stretches you open again, the sweet, gummy walls of your cunt hugging him tight, sucking him back in.

jongin curses, hands gripping your ass, his restraint hanging by a thread.

“stop fucking teasing,” he growls, and then his patience snaps.

he thrusts up, sharp and deep, splitting you open on his cock, making you choke on your next breath. his mouth crashes against yours, messy, desperate, his tongue curling against yours as he fucks up into you, relentless, unyielding.

your moan shatters against his lips, nails raking down his chest as he grips your hips and fucks up into you, meeting every roll of your body with a brutal thrust, driving deeper, harder, until you're gasping, barely able to breathe.

“wanted to take my time with you,” he pants, voice thick, dripping with possession, “but you just had to push me, didn’t you?”

another sharp thrust, another, your vision going hazy, heat pooling low in your belly, your walls fluttering around him, gripping him like you never want to let him go.

jongin smirks, breathless, chest heaving.

“let’s see if you can keep up.”

⟢ GYM SESH!

ft. personal trainer!chanyeol

this is so, so wrong.

not just because he’s your trainer, but because you know exactly what you’re doing—showing up to every session in leggings so tight they might as well be painted on, stretching just a little too provocatively, letting your eyes linger on him like he’s the one being watched. you stay long after your workouts end, pretending to scroll through your phone, pretending not to notice the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers flex at his sides like he’s resisting the urge to put them on you.

and tonight, his patience finally snaps.

“this what you wanted?” chanyeol’s voice is a low, guttural growl, his grip bruising as he pins you down in the dim glow of the gym’s back office. his hands clamp around your waist, firm, unyielding, refusing to let you set the pace—even though you’re the one straddling him. his chest heaves, restraint hanging by a thread, his dark eyes heavy with something feral.

you smirk, nails dragging down his abs, feeling them tense under your touch as you roll your hips slow, deliberate, teasing. “what’s wrong, trainer? thought you were all about discipline.”

his nostrils flare. his fingers twitch. you barely get a second to process before his grip tightens and—fuck—he slams you down onto him, hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. your gasp is swallowed by his mouth, lips hot, desperate, devouring you like he’s been starving for this moment since the day you walked into his gym.

his head drops to your shoulder, his breath a ragged, uneven thing against your skin. “discipline?” he huffs out a breathless laugh, his next thrust sharp, punishing, leaving you clawing at his shoulders. “sweetheart, i’ve spent every fucking session holding back from bending you over that weight bench and fucking you stupid.”

your breath stutters. your nails dig deeper. but he’s not done with you yet.

his grip slides up, fingers threading into your hair, tugging, forcing your head back just enough to make sure you see him. his smirk is dark, lazy, and devastatingly cocky.“ya wanna test my limits?” his voice is a low rasp, gravel and heat, as his hips roll into you again, deeper, rougher, at a pace that has you whimpering. “then let’s see how long that bratty little mouth can last before it’s begging me for mercy.”

⟢ SITUATIONSHIP!

ft. fwb!sehun

you shouldn’t be here. not like this.

not after ghosting his texts. not after ignoring his calls. not after spending weeks pretending like this was nothing—like he was nothing.

but then tonight happened.

you went out hoping to forget him, hoping the flashing lights and the bass rattling the floorboards would drown out the sound of his voice still echoing in your head. you let strangers put their hands on you, let them whisper things in your ear, let them try to make you feel something—anything—but they weren’t him. none of them could touch you the way he did, could look at you like they already knew how you’d fall apart.

and then—his hands. his voice. his body pressing against yours in the crowd like he had been waiting for this moment.

“you can run all you want, baby,” he had murmured, lips barely grazing your ear, voice laced with amusement, with hunger. his fingers ghosted up your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “but we both know you belong right here with me.”

and now you’re here. in his bed. straddling him, his grip bruising against your thighs as you roll your hips slow, teasing, making him feel every inch of you, every deliberate shift of your body as you take him.

his jaw is tight, lips parted, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths as he watches you—watches the way your lashes flutter, the way your nails dig into his chest, the way you shiver from the drag of him stretching you open.

his fingers twitch on your waist, a silent warning. you can feel it—the way he’s barely holding on, the way he wants to snap, to pin you down and take what’s his. but he’s waiting. waiting to see how far you’ll push him.

“fuck,” he grits out, head falling back against the pillows. “you don’t even know what you do to me.”

you smirk, dragging your nails down his torso, watching the way his abs tense beneath your touch.

“then show me.”

his eyes snap open, dark, burning, locked onto yours.

“baby, you don’t want that.”

oh, but you do.

you grind down harder, meeting his thrusts, pushing him, teasing him, testing just how much restraint he has left. his breath stutters. his grip tightens. and then—

his fingers snap around your waist, and suddenly, you’re not in control anymore.

“ya think you can just disappear on me and come back like this?” he growls, sitting up in one swift motion, arm curling around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. his other hand fists into your hair, yanking just hard enough to tilt your head back, baring your throat to him.

his lips brush against your jaw as he rolls his hips up into you—deep, sharp, deliberate. you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders.

“nah, baby.” his voice is low, rough, dangerous. “can’t get away from me that easily.”

his grip tightens, his next thrust knocking the breath from your lungs. his smirk presses against your lips, his voice a rough groan as he mutters,

“if you wanted me this bad, you should’ve just fucking said so.”

⟢ BAD GIRL!

ft. angry boyfie!kyungsoo

it starts with an argument.

not a loud one—kyungsoo doesn’t yell. he doesn’t have to. his words are sharp, precise, cutting through the air like a blade. his eyes are colder than any raised voice could ever be. you’ve been testing him all night, pushing, prodding, waiting for him to snap. you know exactly what will make his jaw tighten, what will make his fingers flex like he wants to grab you, wants to break you in the best way possible—but won’t.

not yet.

but then you push too far.

you don’t even know who moves first. one second, you’re glaring at him from the other end of the couch, throwing some smart-ass remark his way, and the next, you’re straddling him, his grip bruising against your hips, his body burning beneath you.

“tell me, baby. did you want to start a fight, or did you just want me to fuck you stupid?” his voice is low, rough, thick with something that sends a shiver down your spine as you grind down on him. his hands tighten—a warning.

you smirk, dragging your nails down his chest, feeling the way his abs flex beneath your touch. “you’re the one who told me to sit down and behave.” you roll your hips slow, deliberate, watching the way his breath hitches, the way his brows furrow. “so i’m just doing what you said, ‘soo.”

his head falls back, a deep groan slipping from his lips. his hands flex on your waist, his control hanging by a thread.

“fuck—baby, slow down,” he grits out, but you don’t listen.

you plant your hands on his shoulders, using him for leverage, riding him the way you know will ruin him, the way you know will make him break. his jaw clenches, his fingers twitch—his last attempt at restraint before his dark eyes snap open, locking onto yours, something burning, dangerous flickering in them.

“i said slow the fuck down.”

you don’t. you grind down harder, feeling the way he twitches inside you, the way his breath turns ragged, uneven.

and then his patience shatters.

his hands fly to your back, yanking you against his chest, his mouth grazing your ear as he growls, “you really don’t fucking listen, do you?”

before you can even smirk, he’s fucking up into you, hard and unforgiving.

the air leaves your lungs in a sharp gasp, your nails biting into his skin as pleasure rips through you. his moans break against your neck, his breath hot, his thrusts deep, ruthless, punishing.

“gonna cum inside you,” he groans, voice wrecked, almost desperate, his grip on your waist turning bruising. “gonna fill ya up—fuck—gonna make sure you know exactly who you belong to.”

his words send you spiraling. pleasure crashes over you, your moans tangled with his name, and when you clench around him, drag him under with you, his head drops to your shoulder, his body shaking beneath you as he lets himself go completely.

⟢ GIMME! GIMME! GIMME!

ft. sugar daddy!junmyeon

he’s a fucking mess beneath you—trembling, muscles pulled taut, fingers digging into your thighs so hard they’ll leave bruises, reminders of just how good you wrecked him. but that’s not what makes your lips curl—it’s the way his head is thrown back, his chest rising and falling in frantic, uneven breaths, lips parted as wrecked, broken moans spill from them. he’s close, so fucking close, but you’re not giving it to him. not yet.

“princess, please—” his voice is ruined, raw with need as you slow to an agonizing grind, rolling your hips just enough to keep him on edge, never enough to push him over. his abs flex, his breath stutters, his hands fly to your waist, desperate to take control, to make you move faster, but you’re quicker. you grab his wrists, pinning them to the mattress, nails biting into his skin.

“ah ah. not yet,” you murmur, tilting your head, watching his expression twist with frustration, watching his lashes flutter as he groans, caught between pleasure and pure torture.

“fuck—why are you doing this to me?” he chokes out, his voice wrecked, his body arching beneath you, every muscle coiled so fucking tight he might snap.

you lean in, dragging your lips along his jaw, letting your teeth sink into the sensitive skin just below his ear, making him gasp, making his hips jerk up in search of friction.

“because you look so pretty when you beg.”

his breath shudders, his fingers flex beneath your grip, hips rolling up again, desperate, needy, on the verge of breaking completely.

“princesss, please,” he whimpers, voice so sweet, so wrecked it sends a thrill straight through you. “i’ll do anything. please—please just lemme cum inside you.”

you hum, dragging your nails down his chest, reveling in the way he shivers beneath your touch.

“anything?”

he nods frantically, barely coherent, pupils blown wide, body completely fucked out. “yes, fuck—yes, anything.”

you pause for effect, let your lips ghost over his, let your breath fan against his swollen, parted mouth.

“even giving me your black card?”

his head snaps up, eyes wide with desperation. for a split second, he hesitates—but then, without a second thought—

“take it. take all of it. fuck—just please, princess, lemme fucking cum.”

and that? that’s when you finally give in.

you slam your hips down, riding him so hard his entire body jolts beneath you. his moan is strangled, torn from deep in his chest, his grip bruising as he clings to you, body shaking, gasping, begging as he falls apart completely—spilling inside you, wrecked, ruined, yours.

⟢ WASSUP, BULLET?

ft. streetracer!baekhyun

the roar of the engines is still ringing in your ears.

you should’ve won. you would have won—if baekhyun hadn’t played dirty, cutting you off right before the final stretch, forcing you to slam the brakes for half a second, just enough time for him to slip past and take the victory right out from under you.

and now, you’re paying for it.

his garage is dim, lit only by flickering overhead bulbs and the glow of neon signs from the street outside. the scent of burnt rubber and motor oil lingers thick in the air, but it’s not enough to mask the heat still simmering between you. baekhyun is sprawled back against the worn leather couch, legs spread, posture easy, confident—like he knew you’d end up here, right where he wanted you.

his smirk hasn’t left his face since the moment he crossed that finish line ahead of you, since the second he pulled you onto his lap, his hands resting lazily on your thighs, owning his victory.

but now? now you’re about to wipe it off his face.

he’s got one hand pinning your wrists behind your back, keeping you caged against him, your body at his mercy. his free hand drags up your side, featherlight, teasing, making you squirm.

“shoulda been faster, baby,” he drawls, voice dripping with amusement, fingers ghosting along your ribs, your waist, the curve of your ass. “now you gotta take it like a good loser.”

your glare is sharp, burning, but he just grins, dark eyes flickering with something dangerous.

and then—you sink down onto him.

his smirk falters. his breath catches. his fingers twitch against your waist like he’s trying to hold it together, but he’s already losing. his head falls back against the couch, a low, wrecked groan spilling from his lips as you take him in, inch by inch, until you’re fully seated, hips flush against his.

his jaw clenches, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths, but his grip stays firm—still cocky, still trying to act like this isn’t already unraveling him.

so you lean in, lips just shy of brushing his, your smirk razor-sharp.

“bet you’ll cum first.”

his breath stutters, but then his smirk flares back to life, his grip tightening, grounding himself.

“oh, baby,” he exhales, voice dark, a slow, knowing grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “you have no idea what you just started.”

and so the bet begins.

he fights it—teeth sinking into his bottom lip, jaw tight, muscles coiled, strained. his hands grip your waist, bruising, desperate, but he doesn’t give in. not yet.

you move against him, rolling your hips slow, deep, keeping the pressure steady, relentless. his head tilts back, brows furrowing, throat bobbing with every ragged breath he tries to suppress, but he still has that look. that cocky glint, like he thinks he can outlast you. like he really believes he can beat you at your own game.

but the longer it goes, the worse he breaks.

his fingers dig into your waist, harder, thighs tensing beneath you, muscles twitching under your touch. his abs flex beneath your fingertips, every sharp exhale slipping through gritted teeth, but he still won’t let go.

“you’re not—” he huffs, voice wrecked, his head snapping forward to meet your gaze, eyes dark, wild, desperate. “i’m not gonna fucking lose—”

but then you grind down harder, meeting his thrusts with something shameless, devastating, rolling your hips just right, and—

he chokes on his own breath.

his body jerks, grip slipping, muscles locking tight as a strangled groan rips from his throat.

“ah, fuck—” his voice breaks, sharp, raw, his head snapping back as his whole body shudders, finally giving in. his fingers dig into your hips like he can’t believe it’s happening, like he’s angry at himself for losing, but he can’t stop. his hips stutter, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he spills inside you, heat pooling deep, overwhelming.

for a long moment, the only sound in the garage is your combined breathing—heavy, shaky, wrecked.

and then—you smirk.

your nails drag down his chest, slow, teasing, reveling in the way his body still trembles beneath you, the way his breath hitches when your fingers ghost over his abs.

he’s wrecked. hair damp, cheeks flushed, chest heaving—but even now, he’s still looking at you like he wants more. like he wants everything.

“looks like i win, b,” you murmur, voice thick with satisfaction, your smirk curling as you taunt him.

baekhyun lets out a breathless laugh, head tilting back against the couch, running a hand through his messy, sweat-dampened hair. but when he looks at you again, something softens—just for a second.

god, you’re so fucking cute.

he could do this forever with you. the teasing, the bets, the tension, the way you push him just to see him snap. he could spend every damn night like this, your body tangled against his, your smirk driving him insane, your fingers dragging across his skin like you own him.

because maybe you do.

his hands slide up your thighs, his thumbs brushing soft, lazy circles against your skin as his lips part, as he watches you with something darker, deeper, heavier than just lust.

“best two outta three?” he murmurs, voice hoarse, hopeful, his grip tightening like he’s already decided—there’s no fucking way he’s letting you go yet.

⟢ AFTER HOURS!

ft. work crush!minseok

you never imagined you’d end up like this—straddling him on his couch, his hands gripping your hips, his breath shallow and ragged as he watches you move. not here, not with him. the work crush who always seemed untouchable, composed to the point of frustration, always tucked behind crisp suits and sharp professionalism. but even then, something about him had always kept you on edge—the way his gaze lingered just a second too long, the flicker of something darker beneath that quiet intensity.

it started innocent. a passing flirtation across the conference table. stolen glances when no one else was looking. the way his lips would twitch at your laugh, like he wasn’t supposed to enjoy it as much as he did.

but this? this is anything but innocent.

“fuck—” he groans, voice thick with lust, fingers curling into your skin as he guides your hips, slow, controlled, but barely. his eyes are dark, burning, drinking in the way you sink down on him, the way your body clenches around his cock. his control is slipping, unraveling, and you love it.

“minseok,”  you murmur, dragging your nails down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. his breath stutters, a sharp inhale through clenched teeth. “always so composed at work, but look at you now.”

he swallows hard, jaw tight, trying to hold himself together. “don’t tease me,” he warns, voice low, but it’s not a threat—it’s a plea.

you smirk, leaning in, letting your lips brush against his ear as you roll your hips, slow and deliberate. “i think you like it.” your voice is pure sin, soft, teasing. you feel him twitch inside you, feel the way his grip tightens like he’s seconds away from snapping. “you’re not so perfect when it’s just the two of us, are you?”

his breath hitches—just for a second—but you hear it. you feel it.

and then suddenly, you’re not on top anymore.

with one fluid motion, he flips you, your back hitting the couch as he looms over you, pressing you into the cushions, caging you beneath him. his face is inches from yours, eyes wild, dark with something that makes your stomach twist in anticipation.

“you act so confident,” he murmurs, voice dripping with authority, laced with something raw, something desperate. “but you have no idea i’m ‘bout to ruin you.”

his hand fists into the fabric of the couch beside your head, the other gripping your thigh, spreading you wider. and then—

he thrusts into you, hard, deep, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke.

the air is knocked from your lungs, a choked gasp slipping past your lips as pleasure rips through you. he’s relentless, pounding into you with none of the restraint he usually carries, none of the careful control you’ve come to associate with him.

“fuck—” you whimper, fingers clawing at his back, trying to hold onto something, anything. but he’s ruthless, dragging you closer, forcing you to take him, to feel every inch.

his teeth graze your throat, his breath hot against your skin as he growls, “tell me you’re mine.”

his hips snap forward, hard enough to make you see stars, and you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but moan.

“say it.”

“i’m yours,” you gasp, voice breaking, wrecked and desperate. “fuck, min, i’m yours.”

that’s all it takes.

his grip tightens, his thrusts turning brutal, ragged, like he’s been waiting for this, for you, for far too long. he pins you down, body pressed flush against yours, fucking you like the world outside doesn’t exist, like the only thing that matters is the way you take him, the way you fall apart beneath him.

you’re not his colleague anymore. you’re his.

and he’s not letting go.

⟢ BRAKE CHECK!

ft. mechanic!yixing

you've been showing up at yixing’s garage with a new excuse every time. a weird noise. a rattling that doesn’t exist. the brakes feeling off. you know it’s bullshit. he knows it’s bullshit. but he never calls you out—just fixes what doesn’t need fixing, all while giving you that quiet, knowing smirk.

but today, when you show up again, he doesn’t even bother looking at your car. instead, he leans against the hood, arms crossed, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“so, what is it this time?”

“it’s, uuuhhh… making a sound?” you try, but it’s weak, and you both know it.

yixing huffs a laugh, shaking his head before stepping closer—so close you can feel the heat rolling off him. “sweetheart, you’re a terrible liar.”

before you can stammer out some pathetic excuse, he grabs your wrist, tugging you through the garage, straight into his office. the moment the door clicks shut, he has you caged against it, one hand braced above your head, the other gripping your waist.

“you could’ve just told me what you really wanted,” he murmurs, his voice low, teasing, “would’ve saved you all this trouble.”

his fingers slide down to your hips, gripping, squeezing, pulling you against him. you can feel him—hard, ready, just as desperate as you are.

“is this why you keep coming back?” he breathes, lips brushing your jaw as his hands slip lower, over your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto his desk.

“maybe,” you tease, breath hitching when he nudges your legs apart.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “cute.”

then he’s on you—mouth hot, hands rough, grip firm as he pulls you closer, fingers digging into your skin like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you. you ride him right there, his hands guiding you, gripping your ass, bruising your thighs as he watches you fall apart for him.

“oh, fuck, baby,” he groans, voice wrecked, “all those fake car problems, just so i could fuck you like this?”

his hands keep you grounded, keep you moving, every roll of your hips making his control slip further.

“didn’t peg you for the type to whimper, yixing.” you taunt, dragging your nails down his chest.

his grip tightens—hard enough to make you gasp. “ya keep running that mouth, and we’ll see if you can still walk out of here.”

the orgasm rips through you fast, his name tumbling from your lips, his hands keeping you steady as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release.

when it’s over, when you’re spent and breathless in his lap, he lets out a lazy, satisfied sigh, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before smirking up at you.

“so, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement, “what’s gonna be wrong with your car next week?”

you smirk back, dragging your fingers through his messy hair. “guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

[mercuryport]

mistérios da meia noite

disponível

[pyromanick]

— cheap thrills | kaisoo

[kekahistuff]

💌 . . . poemas aos crepúsculos — fanfic por jaeminvies

— design por kekahi

• em caso de inspiração, credite.

[xiubaek-13]

Requested: No

Genre: Canon-AU, smut

Pairing: ? (at this stage undecided) x Reader or is it Baekhyun x Reader ?

Warnings: 18+ fic, minors DNI! angst, fluff, suggestive text, making out, confessions of feelings. Not many warnings for this one but she's deeply in her head for a decent portion of this chapter.

Word Count: 22,599

A/N: Here it is. The final chapter. Like most of my writing in the back half of this fic, it was supposed to be considerable shorter but then I let the brain worms control my fingers and now you get this behemoth of an ending. It's only had one very quick edit so I hope it makes sense and isn't a let down.

7 years ago I knew the ending for this fic, but when I was plotting out the chapter that ending simply didn't fit anymore so we've got a new ending and I hope it doesn't let you down.

The flight home left you with a lot of time to think. You had asked Minseok and Baekhyun to let the rest of the guys know about your meeting, telling them that Junmyeon could probably fill in more of the details that you’d left out when you’d broken the news to them. Your mind had been focused on getting to Minseok’s reward at the time, so discussing the feedback you’d received in great detail was not front of mind. 

Feeling overwhelmed with your own thoughts, you’d also asked them to tell everyone that you had requested some space. From them. You just couldn’t handle any of them right now. You’d assured Minseok & Baek when you’d all woken up the next morning that they hadn’t overstepped or done anything, but that your mind was too busy and too much for you right now. The internal storm had been brewing for quite some time but you’d constantly pushed it down, too busy to deal with silly things like the future, feelings and relationships. But once the tour ended and the rewards were completed (inconveniently on the same night) it all came crashing down on you. The floodgates had been opened and you didn’t know how to act normal and not drown in your own mind at the same time. You needed space to simply exist. Space to sort out your mind before you did something utterly stupid and reckless. You’d promised to never disappear on them again without talking to them, and whilst you felt a bit guilty for withdrawing from them like that you had provided warning, and as much context as you could. Baekhyun refused to let you leave until you promised him you weren’t self-destructing. That you weren’t going to disappear and not respond to them.

“You said you wouldn’t do that again. You said you’d lean on at least one of us when you were struggling.” He said, his eyes full of concern as he watched you nervously pace around the room.

“It’s different this time. I’m not sad, or feeling lonely or headed to a dark place mentally.” You stopped in the middle of the room as you tried to hold off the panic attack that you could feel building within you. You needed to go. You needed to be away from it all. You needed them to understand. “It’s just loud. And overwhelming. And I need time to be by myself to sort through everything.” 

“But you’re asking us to not contact you.” He looked down at his hands. “How will we know if you’re ok?”

“It won’t be for long. I hope. Just give me a week, then Minseok or Kyungsoo can check in to make sure I’m ok.” You said. 

“Why not me?” He asked so quietly that you barely heard the words.

“Because I know they’ll just check in with me and nothing more until I’m ready to chat.” You smiled at him. “You wouldn’t be able to help yourself. You yap. It’s just part of who you are.”

“I hate this.” He grumbled.

“I don’t like it either, but I’ll do it.” Minseok replied. He looked worried for you as well, but he could tell you weren’t going to bend on this request. He didn’t want to back you into a corner. He knew if any of them did that, they ran the risk of you running from them. He hated to see you struggle with your thoughts but he hoped he knew you well enough to know that you’d reach out if you needed to lean on them. Even if you weren’t ready.

“Fine. I’ll do it as well, but know that I truly do not like this. Not one bit.” He sighed, resigned to your decision. He realised his words may have come across too harsh when he saw guilt flash across your features. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad. I’m just worried and wish I, or any of us, could help.”

You nodded. “I get it. I would hate it if any of you did this to me. Trust me I feel shitty about it, but I need to go deal with some stuff that I’ve been putting to the side because I simply didn’t have time to process it.” You shifted nervously on your feet, itching to leave the room. You felt your heart rate increase, and breathing was becoming difficult. You had to leave before your panic was obvious to them. You weren’t sure why you were so wound up this morning, but you knew you just needed to get away from the people who paid too much attention to you. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” 

You knew that they had conveyed your wishes when the group chat you’d been added to, one that had been busy that morning with members arguing over the best American breakfast sandwich, just stopped. The messages just abruptly ended. It left a bittersweet feeling in your heart. On one hand, they were only respecting your request for space to think, but on the other, having nine large personalities all fall quiet at the same time made you feel lonely. You hadn’t realised how much they had integrated themselves into your life, and you theirs until then. You might not see them every day but their presence was always felt. Through messages bickering with each other, reminding you to eat, dumb selfies, silly jokes, recommendations for movies or tv shows, unflattering photos of the others. They were always there. Until now. Now it was as though they’d all simply ceased to exist. It was weird. It felt wrong.

You’d travelled back to Korea with the other staff members. No one found that strange as there was no reason for any of the guys to request your presence for a lesson - the tour was over. You mindlessly watched movies until you fell asleep. Dealing with the onslaught of thoughts and feelings was not something you were going to do on a long haul flight. Having a breakdown 30,000 feet above the ocean was not on your bucket list. Did you shed a tear or two at certain scenes in the movies you watched because they reminded you of certain people? Maybe. But lucky for you the staff were all equally exhausted and happy to sleep for the majority of the return trip. Once you landed the guys were called to the company whilst you and multiple other staff members were told to go home and rest. You were beyond thankful to be told to go home because that was the only thing you wanted to do. You wanted the safety of the familiar four walls of your apartment. The comfort of your bed. Maybe all you needed was a really long sleep and then you’d be less of an emotional wreck. You didn’t think you’d overworked yourself but maybe you were wrong? 

It was quiet in your apartment. Not that that was a new thing. No, the new thing was that you knew it would remain quiet. There would not be a knock on your door from a bored neighbour who wanted to raid your snack cupboard and hide from their roommates. There would be no flurry of messages to your phone or late night calls. It was probably a good thing. If this feeling that you were experiencing, like teetering on the edge of an abyss of panic, was anything to go by then you were probably deluding yourself if you thought it was purely related to being exhausted from work. 

No, if you actually thought about it, you realised that it was the culmination of a few things. First there was the fact that your contract was over and you didn’t know what was next for you, or how their CEO would respond to the work you’d done. Second was the fact that you had been sexually intimate with each of the members. You thought you’d kept the interpersonal relationship side of things separate from the sex but now your mind was throwing every ‘what if’ in the book at you. Were they your friends?, were they colleagues?, did any of them now want nothing to do with you because you’d been with the others?, did any of them want more from you?, did you want more from any of them?, did you ruin everything? Your mind was in full spiral mode, with no exits in sight. You were unfortunately in for the ride, even if you did not want to be.

You knew you needed to sit down and dwell in your thoughts and work out what to do about the nine very special men who were woven into your heart, each one you had slept with, but did you feel something more than friendship and attraction to any of them? Was it simply a working relationship that you’d sprinkled some highly unprofessional fun into or did you have romantic interest in any or all of them? You’d avoided thinking about this very thing for weeks now, always telling yourself that you were too busy with lessons. Now you were forced to address it. No one would come distract you, and there was no work to be done, and if you didn’t address it? Well it seemed like you were destined for a full blown mental breakdown if you left it to fester.

You were officially off the clock until the CEO summoned you so you had nothing but time to sit and dwell on your thoughts and feelings. Naturally you decided to clean your apartment instead. Then reorganise the kitchen, do all of your washing, make your bed and organise your desk. It was when your thumb was hovering over the call button for your parents that you snapped out of your procrastination spiral and forced your brain to start unraveling the mess that was your relationship with the EXO members. 

Like every other time you’d had to solve a seemingly large problem, you took out a notebook and pen and began to make notes. It wasn’t a pros and cons list, rather, it was your jumbled thoughts spewed out onto a page. You’d always worked best with problem solving when you had something to annotate. You needed visual logic cues if you were to concentrate on this long enough to deal with it. When you looked down at the page it was one very messy web of unfiltered thoughts. Seeing it all on the page didn’t ease your worries like it usually did. For some reason this felt bigger, like it was more important than you could perceive. 

The crux of the issue still seemed to be that they were your friends before you took on the role of teaching them English, then after they became colleagues you rather quickly implemented the reward system. Then came the issue of involving sex, but honestly, apart from some prying and joking the guys hadn’t changed in how they acted towards you. If anything some were more affectionate with you but that was never in a sexual way. They understood that the system was there for the lessons and if you excluded Minseok and Baekhyun - all sex acts were contained within the lesson rewards or punishments. Yixing was playful, but only because he knew he could get away with it. He never tried for more than being close to you, and you knew he cared about you (especially since the day at the Han River, and because he wasn’t always around), but you didn’t think he was pining for you though it was sometimes difficult to gauge what he was feeling. Junmyeon was a gentleman and rarely brought up anything to do with the reward arrangement. Chanyeol, Jongdae and Sehun liked to make suggestive comments and jokes but that was mostly in. Sehun had been clingy before all of this anyway. Kyungsoo was another who was difficult to read. He’d never tried anything after the reward, but he was sweet to you, and very familiar with you in a way he hadn’t been beforehand. Jongin was a sweetheart before and after, and you were pretty sure his reward was just an experience for him and nothing more. Minseok and you… well that has basically been a friends with benefits situation however neither of you appeared to be trying to push that arrangement into something more at present. You were both more than capable of hanging out and not fucking. 

Baekhyun presented a whole other problem. Your relationship with him had never been normal. The sexually charged banter had been there from the very beginning and only built as things went on. The day at the Han River proved that he cared about you enough to find you and help you. You enjoyed his company which wasn’t to say you didn’t enjoy all of their company, but with him it was different. Wasn’t it? You weren’t sure. The relationship that grew between the two of you had been sexually charged thanks to your drunken flirting very early on in the scheme of things but he’d never shied away from it - as long as you weren’t a drunken mess. The flirting had continued and your encounters always seemed to teeter on the precipice of taking that next step, but ended in delayed gratification so it was impossible for you to decipher if you had felt so strongly because you’d craved his body and his touch or if it was something more.

You paused in your deliberations to order some food. All this thinking was making you hungry and your mother had always told you to never make important decisions while hungry. It was something you’d lived by and you weren't about to stray from it now. A decision made while hungry could very well just be the impulsive choice rather than the choice you might make once hunger wasn’t making you impatient. Hangry was never a helpful state to be in.

What were you even trying to figure out? Did you want to date all of them? Was that even a possibility? It would be hard enough to date one idol, let alone nine of them. How would that work? You knew people back home who were in successful polycules but like, they were on the smaller side and had a more even split of gender. That and the fact that they weren’t also hugely famous in a highly conservative country and would receive backlash for anyone they dated. If you dated all nine of them, you would be the only woman and as far as you were aware, none of them were all that interested in exploring each other in that way. Did you feel that way about them? I felt like it had to be an all or nothing situation for it to be fair. You didn’t ask your brain what kind of logic that was because it made sense to you at the time. So would you be ok if you didn’t pursue anything more with any of them? Would remaining close friends with them be enough for you, or them? God you hadn’t even considered if any of them were romantically interested in you. How embarrassing would it be to make a decision only for it to be the opposite of their decision? Could your heart handle that rejection if you were dealing with freshly discovered feelings? You stood up and did a full body shake in a feeble attempt at releasing the building anxiety from your body. You needed to focus on one question at a time. Were you romantically interested in all of them? 

You weren’t sure. It was complicated. 

If you didn’t want all of them, would you be fine with just being friends with them? 

Again, you weren’t sure. All this thinking was making your head hurt. The lack of answers you were providing yourself wasn’t helping your anxiety in the slightest. Maybe you should just finish your food, go to bed and try again in the morning? You probably had jet lag. That couldn’t be helping. 

Did you want any of them in that way? Did any of them want you in that way? If you were just friends with them, would you be ok watching them date other people? Could you be happy for them? Your heart felt heavy and you were no closer to working out why. You closed your notebook and got into bed, hoping the cocoon of your blankets could wash away some of the worries and panic. 

Sleep was elusive. You tossed and turned for what felt like the entire night because you could not switch your brain off. It wasn’t supplying any new information nor was it being productive in any way. No, instead it was showing you all of the worst case scenario outcomes from your possible decisions. Thoughts of being doxxed for dating any of them, sasaengs hurting you or any of them, calls from antis to have the group disband or certain members thrown out. All of it haunted your sleep deprived brain. When your thoughts drifted to the possibility of you being deported over dating any of them, you finally heaved a sigh, called your mind an idiot and somehow fell asleep. It was more likely that you passed out from exhaustion at that point, too drained mentally to remain conscious. The dreams were just snapshots of all these awful thoughts. Your subconscious must have felt bad for you as it sprinkled in small glimpses of the happy endings where everything worked out. Little bursts of colour surrounded these moments, like it was really trying its best to show you there could be good outcomes. 

Warmth and laughter in their company, locked lips and entwined limbs, waking up in someone’s arms, secretive dates, happy smiles. Small glimpses of building a happy home together, of not dating but still hanging out and enjoying being with your friends. Feeling whole, and loved. Even dreaming you were no closer to a resolution than before. 

A new day brought distractions. So be it if those distractions were ones you forced upon yourself, they were still distractions dammit. You took yourself out for a walk in a feeble attempt at clearing your mind only to find yourself standing in front of an aquarium in Gangnam. Water always grounded you when your thoughts became too loud, and since you couldn’t sit at the beach, staring out at the waves for hours like you could in your hometown, an aquarium was the next best thing. Something about walking through enclosures below the water with sea life surrounding you was calming. It was serene and quiet. You allowed your mind to go blank as you made your way through the different exhibits, reading the fun facts that were put next to each enclosure. 

You learned about the sharks that could reproduce asexually, never needing the company of others to keep themselves afloat. Sharks were always so interesting to watch. A terrifying predator who seemingly feared nothing, but to you they were also these goofy looking creatures because of their teeth. There were too many and they were too sharp but it also made them look kind of ridiculous when they were simply existing. You had an appreciation for them. They were unbothered creatures, content to simply exist, only attacking for survival whether that be for sustenance or to defend themselves. They let specific creatures into their personal space, never attacking them, but seeming to simply coexist. Those suckerfish - that you now found out were actually called Remora - helped the sharks and in turn the sharks helped them. It seemed like a simple relationship. You imagined that one day they just attached themselves to the sharks and never let go and for some reason, the shark just let it happen. 

The tropical exhibit was vibrant and massive. You had to stop yourself from reciting lines from Finding Nemo lest you appear like a crazy foreigner talking to themselves. You knew a lot of the facts about these creatures from your studies at school but there were some things they had left out of your textbooks, probably to avoid teachers having to explain certain concepts to children. Concepts like polyamorous fish. Yeah, those existed. Well, technically the marine biologists simply documented that certain species of tropical fish mated with multiple partners. So one couldn’t explicitly state that the fish were polyamorous, but maybe that term was better than saying the fish were swingers. It was a ridiculous concept to think about. The inner working relationships of fish. Maybe you were losing your mind. 

You moved on to see the seals being fed. You always found them to be a deceptive creature. ‘Looks like a friend but is most definitely not a friend’ was the label you’d always associated with them. Growing up you’d been to a marine park and been in awe of the cute seals who did tricks for rewards in the form of fish. You even had a photo with a seal posed next to you. You remembered that it was heavy, very wet and its breath stank of fish, but it was pretty chill. Your cousin snuck you into a section you weren’t supposed to go to, where they were rehabilitating other animals - mainly dolphins and seals. He knew about a specific seal species that looked adorable and said he wanted to show it to you. He left out the part where this particular species ate penguins and other seals. He waited until you were home, talking to anyone who would listen about the world’s prettiest seal, about how they must be the sweetest and most amazing seals to ever exist. He waited until you were so enamoured by them that you were almost going to claim them as your new favourite animal to show you a section of a documentary of that specific species hunting. You had nightmares for weeks. Thankfully the seals in this enclosure were not the leopard seals of your childhood nightmares. It did remind you to call your cousin to catch up and remind him of how much he terrorised you as a child. 

You spent way too long watching the penguins in the arctic exhibit. They appeared to be nesting, at least that was the conclusion you arrived at. There were penguins lying in little circles made of rocks and ice, a nest you supposed, while their mate searched the enclosure for the perfect pieces of ice and rocks before bringing them back and placing them in the nest (you assumed they were mates since they kept returning to the same nest, never straying to a different penguin. That and you knew penguins mated for life, so if they weren’t mates then they were definitely courting the penguin they thought could be their mate). It was such a simple act but you found that you simply couldn’t leave the viewing window, entranced by such a simple act of love. 

When you finally left the aquarium a few hours later you felt more at peace than you had in weeks. By no means was your mind clear, but the chaotic tornado that had taken up residence in there was now more of a light breeze as all your worries quietened down, allowing you to logically sift through them. You allowed yourself to believe that you had in fact, been successful at teaching EXO English. The tour was successful and you hadn’t been required to step in very often during their ments or interviews. For a group with poor prior experience with learning English you had basically done the impossible. You managed to let go of the stigma that had clouded your mind for the past few weeks that was constantly telling you they were only succeeding because of the sex, but really if all they took from your lessons was the sex then they still would have failed miserably at their ments and interviews. Something you did stuck, and whether it was because you were someone they knew and trusted was kind of beside the point. You took the time to learn how each of them would learn the best from you, and tailored sessions to maximise their recall of their ments. And it fucking worked. You should really allow yourself to feel your oats more often than you did. The cloud of self depreciation that had been looming and trying to take root was dissolved. You did a good job. Others had told you so, you knew it to be true. You just had to be consistent in telling your self doubt to go fuck itself when it next tried to diminish your achievements. You felt a little lighter than you had this morning, one less voice causing chaos in your mind.

Riding on your good mood, you decided to take a walk through the nearby night markets, enjoying food from the street vendors and looking at the pretty wares others had on offer. You resisted the urge to buy gifts for the guys - this was a day for you, not a day for you to revert to stressing over if you would be giving a gift as a friend, as a romantic partner, or as a farewell. For now you simply took in the craftsmanship of the trinkets, clothing and jewellery on offer - deciding that you would go to more night markets in the future. The streets were so full of life, bustling with a palpable energy that was infectious. You loved it. The streets were illuminated with soft and pretty lights, making you feel like you were walking through a little fairytale rather than the streets of Seoul. It was an impressive feat for this small section of such a bright and bustling city to achieve. 

Eventually you decided it was time to begin the journey back towards your apartment. You wanted to call your family, possibly a friend as well, just to update them on your life as a translator overseas. Now that you actually recognised the work that you had done you knew you could feel confident talking to them about it. Talking about it to someone outside of the business might also help bring other things you were worried about into focus. You headed home with your head held high, finally feeling good about the work you had done these past months. 

Speaking with your parents and your closest friend back home helped you unpack more of your thoughts. Ones you wouldn’t have realised if you hadn’t had to conceal certain aspects of your life over here. Describing the boys as acquaintances then colleagues felt weird and wrong, but you knew you had to hide the friendship to an extent. After all, they didn’t know how damaging that kind of news could be if it got out and they would not feel the need to keep that information to themselves. You knew they’d just say you were overreacting if you told them not to tell anyone about it, so you simply kept that from them. It was easier this way even if it felt off. They meant more than you could tell your parents.

You’d always worried that your family wouldn’t be proud of you for taking a job in a foreign country and leaving as quickly as you did. You’d expected to cop an earful from your mother for not calling her more often but you were pleasantly surprised to hear how many questions she had about your work - how was your boss, how did they assign clients, were they treating you well, were the hours humane, were the conditions fair, did you get sufficient pay and time off. The list was endless. You answered all of her questions to the best of your ability without breaching your contract or giving away incriminating details. Your father wanted to know all about your living conditions, was it in a good neighbourhood, was the security good, were you safe, were you being smart when you left the house. You allowed him to nag you since that was his love language - fretting about his daughter's safety. He even convinced you to hang up and call again on video so you could show him your apartment and so they could see your face, to make sure you were being truthful about eating and sleeping well. Definitely not because they also missed you terribly. Once you had appeased them, promising no less than five times that you were keeping out of trouble, were eating well and getting enough sleep, did they allow you to ask them questions about life after you left home. It was comforting to talk to them, even if it made you miss them terribly - you longed for a warm hug from each of them more than you wanted to admit. You dodged questions of romance, citing that you were far too busy with work to date. You also had to explain how dating culture was different here, and once they knew how much faster relationships began your father was much happier to know that you weren’t dating. You’d die if he knew what you had been doing though. 

You eventually told them that you were at the end of the current contract you were on and that you were awaiting a final evaluation to see if the company you had been on contract with wanted to keep you on for other projects or if your boss would be assigning you to a new company to work with new artists. Your father could tell from your voice that you were feeling anxious about being in limbo. He told you to rest assured that you did the best work you could, and that your successes would be noticed. He told you that if they renewed your contract that would be great because you already had rapport and knew your way around the company building, feeling comfortable with that environment but he also told you that if they didn’t, that it wouldn’t take long for your boss to find you a new company because of your achievements on your current contract, and that change wasn’t a bad thing. It could lead to bigger and brighter things. Your mother was always good at talking out the minutiae of a problem with you but your father could pinpoint what you needed to hear and ease your busy mind. It was a trait you were thankful he had because it was what you needed right now. You talked for a long time after that, catching up on everything you had missed in their lives, on tv shows, the news, gossip around town. Your mother could harp on about anything if you let her. Eventually you had to try and wind up the conversation, you did have another call to make after all. After promising to call more often they let you go so you could call your closest friend. 

Speaking with her went exactly as you thought it would. First there was a lot of nagging about how you never called or told her anything, how you’d abandoned her for the rich and famous clients you had. That you’d probably snagged some uber rich and hot guy and forgotten all about little old her. Then came the endless I miss you’s followed by all the things she’d been dying to tell you. You got wildly sidetracked as you caught up on her life, her new boyfriend, her work, her plans and seemingly endless tangents. She was the kind of friend who could easily take over a conversation, something she had often had to do in the past. There were times where you just preferred to go quiet and let others lead the small talk. You preferred topics that interested you when meeting new people because you had something to contribute, and surface level conversation kind of bored you. You could do it, and did when work required it of you, but in your personal life you were often much more reserved in conversation with strangers. There was probably something to unpack there but you chose to ignore that for now.

You went through a similar interrogation about work and life in Korea with her, though she pressed for far more details than your parents did since she had some idea that you were working with idols. You managed to avoid incriminating yourself in any way but you knew this would not be the last time she pressed you for information. She had a knack for knowing when things were left unsaid, and boy did you leave a lot of things about your situation unsaid. When you got to the topic of your current employment potentially coming to an end she made similar points to your father, though she added that the more people you worked for in the entertainment sector, the more likely it was for you to meet some amazing guy. You almost choked on your laughter at that. Once again you had to promise to contact her more often before she would let you get off the phone with her. 

[9:21PM] Your bestest friend in the world: Don’t think for a moment that I didn’t pick up on the fact that something is going on with you.

[9:21PM] Your bestest friend in the world: I won’t push you for an explanation yet, but know that I’m here for you love. Anytime. 

She was too perceptive for her own good. You hated and loved her for it.

[9:21PM] You: Nothing gets past you does it? I should have known you’d pick up on it. I’m not ready to talk about it yet, still wading through my thoughts etc. But thank you bby. ILYSM <3

[9:21PM] Your bestest friend in the world: <3 Talk to me when you’re ready to unpack everything in that pretty little head of yours. ILYSM2

The calls left you feeling even more grounded and settled in your emotions. Your mind continued to be quiet and calm as you got ready for bed, hoping you would get a decent night's sleep and continue your ‘me’ time tomorrow. After all you still had to wade through your feelings about the guys, where everything between the lot of you stood now and where things were going. You weren’t sure that you could fully work out your feelings without talking to them, which could go horribly wrong but you were just too confused. You knew one thing for certain, you had to tell them that there had to be no more sex related things between any of you until this whole thing was worked out. That obviously meant no stress relief fucking with Minseok, but also had to include suggestive comments and jokes. You just weren’t sure if anything could be taken at face value, or if there was more to it.

You promised yourself that if you still felt calm and clear in your thoughts by tomorrow afternoon that you would reach out to the guys. Sure they were giving you space now, but you weren’t so naive to believe that this would continue if you reached a week with zero contact. Sure Minseok or Kyungsoo would message you but you’d rather not let it reach that point if you could help it. You knew them well enough to know that they’d start to worry, and then they’d jump to conclusions that it was somehow their fault that you weren’t talking to them. That was something you wanted to avoid. You weren’t the only one capable of spiralling in your thoughts.

***

Thankfully sleep came easily for you. The bed was comfy, the sheets a perfect texture and the room was cool, allowing you to snuggle into a blanket burrito and sleep deeply. You awoke the next day feeling well rested and more at peace than you’d felt in weeks. You promised to give yourself until the afternoon to make contact and you planned on honoring that self imposed promise so you headed out on another stroll since the weather was yet again pleasant. First stop was the coffee shop for your daily dose of sugar in liquid form (also known as an iced chocolate) and a flaky pastry. Today that was a blueberry danish. With your tasty treats in hand, you set off through the closest park, hoping to find a duck pond to sit by while you ate. There was no reason or tradition for the dunk pond, you just liked being near water when you wanted to get lost in thought. 

As luck would have it, you did find a pond, sadly barren, with no ducks, but it still had the desired effect of being an idyllic backdrop for you. You made a mental list of the things you needed to complete before returning to your apartment. 1. Get groceries so you could cook yourself some meals for the next week. 2. Buy some new clothes and accessories before the season changes so you wouldn’t be caught out. 3. Visit a nearby corgi cafe so you could give some fluffballs your love. 4. Buy a couple of gifts to send home to your parents and closest friend. It wasn’t too overwhelming, but it should keep you occupied until it was time to reach out to the guys. You probably wouldn’t check off the final item today, that would require a future visit to the night markets. 

Groceries were reasonably simple. After talking with your family you suddenly craved a simple western meal so you’d decided on some pan cooked chicken with roasted vegetables and a salad. If you seasoned each chicken breast slightly different it would change up your meals enough each night for you to not grow bored of them. You managed to successfully buy some new clothes and accessories to put away for the next season and then spent two blissfully happy hours at the corgi cafe. You were constantly being prodded with little paws or wet noses asking for pats and treats. You were quite literally covered in fur but you didn’t care. They were so cute and getting to spend time with them really filled the part of you that desperately wanted a pet. You’d have one one day, when the time was right and you could dedicate yourself to training and giving them all the affection in your being. 

With a little tri-coloured corgi resting his head on your lap you let your thoughts drift. When would you get the call from Mr. Kim? At this point you just wanted to have your meeting so you could stop weighing up the uncertainty of your professional future. Once that was set then you knew you could much more easily discuss where things either should or should not progress with the guys. That moment of clarity for what you wanted in that respect remained elusive. You knew that you wanted them in your life, and whilst the thought of nothing more than friendship didn’t entirely sit well with you (you still couldn’t pinpoint why that was), you knew you could do that if that’s all they wanted from you. You felt something for each of them but you hadn’t fallen hard for anyone, a feat that you thanked your guarded heart for immensely. There was closeness, attraction and lust but no deep romantic love. You could see yourself falling if you opened your heart to it and if it was reciprocated by them, but for now you were safe from heartbreak if they didn’t have interest in you like that. 

You’d thought about what you’d do if more than one, or oddly if all of them wanted some sort of arrangement with you. You’d decided that you weren’t opposed to the idea, but only if certain ground rules were in place to keep everyone safe.  If they were opposed to a more polyamorous relationship then you would step back and remain their friend. You refused to allow them to fight and potentially damage their relationships with each other - both personally and professionally - over dating you. It could be seen as a clinical approach but the reality was that they were at the peak of their careers right now and you would not allow the prospect of dating you to get in the way of that. You weren’t that important, you couldn’t be. There was also the secretive nature of whatever relationship you all moved forward with. Male idols were not supposed to be close with other women, that only led to dating scandals which was another thing you wanted to avoid at all costs. 

Ultimately you had to talk to the guys and lay all of your thoughts out for them. They had to know where you stood and then you had to give them time to work out where they stood and what they wanted. Would that be an awkward as fuck conversation? Yes. Was it necessary? Also yes. It was time. No more radio silence. No more dwelling. You quickly sent off a message before you could talk yourself into taking another day to sit with your thoughts. 

[6:13PM] You: Are you guys busy?

The response was almost instantaneous. You hoped that didn’t mean they were hanging out by their phones waiting to hear from you. 

[6:13PM] Junmyeon: Noona! It’s nice to hear from you :)

[6:13PM] Junmyeon: We all just got home. Do you need something?

His words calmed you a little. It was his usual routine to check his phone as soon as he got home. Then he did his best to ignore it for a few hours, only answering if a manager or family member called.

[6:14PM] You: I was hoping I could come up and have a chat with everyone?

[6:14PM] You: But like, only if you’re all free and ok to have me over. I’m sure you’re all still tired.

You might be offering to have this meeting but that did not mean you weren’t incredibly anxious about it. You’d kept your thoughts at bay for almost two days but as soon as you put the talk on the table all of your fears resurfaced. What if they were mad at you? What if you’d read too much into this relationship? What if you caused a rift in the group? You didn’t want to be EXO’s Yoko. 

[6:14PM] Junmyeon: Nonsense. Come on up.

[6:14PM] Junmyeon: They’d kill me if I didn’t invite you up here and you know it.

[6:14PM] Junmyeon: All I’ve heard since we boarded the plane is whiny men. Get your ass up here and put me out of my misery!

You laughed at that. You could practically see him pouting as he typed the messages out to you. It didn’t seem like they were mad, but a small part of you also began to worry that they were too prone to overreacting. You shut that down when you reminded yourself that you’d basically cut them off cold turkey right at the end of the tour. The only people who had spent time with you after that final concert were Minseok and Baekhyun, and only them and Junmyeon knew about your meeting, unless they’d told the others about it. After all you had said they could do that. 

[6:15PM] You: It’s barely been 36 hours. You guys are maybe a little too codependent on me.

[6:15PM] You: But fine, I’ll be up in like 30 mins. Is that enough time for you to round everyone up?

[6:15PM] Junmyeon: You know we love you, but it was the radio silence and request to not contact you that sent them in a tailspin.

[6:15PM] Junmyeon: Not that I’m mad, just to be clear. I get it, but they lowkey freaked out.

Yeah, that checked out. You needed to just get home and go see your ragtag bunch of idiots who seemed to care about you more than you ever thought they would. However you also need to stop whatever attempt at ‘down with the cool kids’ lingo Junmyeon was trying to achieve. He already got teased enough for being the old man of the group and poorly inserting lingo that was clearly out of place in his vernacular was not going to help him.

[6:15PM] You: Don’t say lowkey, that’s not who you are. 

[6:15PM] You: Sehun is probably the only one of you who can get away with saying that. Chanyeol and Baekhyun think they can, but the jury is out on whether or not they can.

[6:15PM] Junmyeon: I’m going to ignore that slander of my character. I’m up on current slang. 

You actually facepalmed. Why was he like this? WHY.

[6:16PM] You: Seriously. STOP. You are in no way helping yourself here.

[6:16PM] Junmyeon: 30 minutes is fine. See you soon. 

[6:16PM] Junmyeon: Just to check though, should I be emotionally prepared for some heartbreaking and serious talk? You rarely ask to speak to all of us at once.

You supposed it could come off as a we need to talk moment given the lack of context you’d provided. And it kind of was that, but also not? You really didn’t want them to freak out. Nine guys fretting would be too overwhelming for you.

[6:16PM] You: Semi serious, but nothing heavy. I just want to explain myself and where my head has been at so you all understand why I kind of just disappeared.

[6:16PM] Junmyeon: Bet. See you soon then <3

[6:17PM] You: You are too old to be saying bet. Who is teaching you this shit? You know what. Don’t answer that. Just stop saying ‘trend’ words. We both know you’re not cool enough to pull them off. No offence.

[6:17PM] You: See you soon. <3

[6:17PM] Junmyeon: Wow noona. Harsh. My lingo is on fleek, it's rude of you to not realise that.

[6:17PM] You: I’m never going to speak to you again. 

[6:17PM] You: And I might have to cause bodily harm to whoever taught you this lingo.

You locked your phone before you cringed at any further attempts at current slang were sent to you. It was go time for you. Whether you were ready or not (you were not), the conversation was happening. Time to get your butt home and face the music. So to speak. You just hoped you weren’t about to fuck it all up. 

***

Nine pairs of eyes stared back at you from the various spots in the living room. You stood awkwardly in front of the tv as you contemplated whether or not to find yourself a chair or if you were just going to stand here and speak. The choice ended up being made for you as Yixing brought a chair in for you to sit on. It was still placed in the centre of the room facing all of them, but it felt a little less intimidating to sit before speaking. Yixing’s fingers brushed over your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, before he moved back towards his place on the lounge. 

You cleared your throat and decided to approach this as you would remove a bandaid - quickly. You knew the guys were all wondering what the cause of your no contact rule was and the sooner you put them out of their misery the better. It would be better for you as well because you would get at least this part of the conversation out of your brain. Your time at the aquarium had helped clear your thoughts, as had your walk through the city. You weren’t so sure if the evening sitting in your apartment spiralling in your thoughts helped, so this was your attempt at preventing that from happening again tonight while still putting some space between them and you while you sorted your shit out.

“I uh, I want to apologise for not speaking with any of you properly before we flew back from the tour.” You held up a hand to stop the immediate chorus of responses that were coming from the guys. “Please let me get all of this out before any of you speak otherwise I don’t know if I’ll be able to get through it.” Nine heads nodded at you and waited for you to continue. 

“I got really in my head about everything and needed to take a step away from all of it, from everyone, while I tried to settle my thoughts.” You started. “First I worried that I hadn’t done a good job because I’d been unprofessional, but after I let myself spiral I realised that wasn’t true and that I had done a great job. I didn’t get to tell you after the last show ended but I could not be more proud of each and every one of you. Your English improved SO much and whilst a certain amount of that is on me, a huge part of that is on you for applying yourselves to the lessons and the study in order to make those improvements. You should also all be really proud of yourselves for the progress you’ve all made.” You couldn’t help but smile at them, pride shining through you. You were truly impressed at the work they’d put in and the results they’d shown in such a small timeframe. “Were part of the lessons and some of my conduct unprofessional? Yes, but I now believe that none of those things hindered your progress, nor were they the sole motivation for your improvements. Whether I’m wrong or right about this, I’m now choosing to believe that they were a pleasant bonus to all of this.”

Time for the big reveal. The thing that had been weighing on you, causing you to nearly have multiple panic attacks. The thing you were most scared about admitting to them. Would they thing you were overreacting or crazy? Would they understand? “My relationship with all of you also began to get muddled in my head by the end of the tour. We all met before I took on the role of teacher and prior to that we were all friends, and with more than one of you there was also an undercurrent of flirtation - regardless of whether any of us were going to act on it or not. Then I became someone who worked for you, who was quite literally on call for if you needed a lesson, in any setting and at any time of day. We were still friends but it did alter the relationship with you. Then I added in the reward/punishment system and that kind of threw a spanner in the works. We were all close, but inevitably when you add physical intimacy or sex to the equation it blurs the lines. My brain kept spiralling between ‘are we friends, colleagues, fuck buddies, in a relationship, did you never want to see me again, were you going to fight if any of us wanted a romantic relationship…’ so yeah, after the last night in America I withdrew into my head and just needed to be with my thoughts - as much as I really really really did not want to sift through them. I knew I needed to for the sake of my mental wellbeing. I hadn’t realised it but those thoughts had been building for quite some time and after all the lessons were over and all rewards or punishments received, those thoughts were relentless and overwhelming. I couldn’t ignore them any longer.”

You couldn’t stop talking. If you did, you were pretty sure you’d bottle everything up until you did what you were best at, running. It wasn’t a fair thought to have, but sadly you were in no state to control the cruelty of your thoughts. You just had to keep speaking and once you finished you hoped they understood. “As I’m sure Minseok and Baek told you, I had a meeting with the managers and Junmyeon to discuss my work and for feedback to be provided. Without going into too much detail, the meeting went well, but my future with SM hangs on your CEO. He was sent video of your ments and interviews while overseas to review as well as feedback from the managers, staff and yourselves. I will either be let go and my boss will find me a contract with another company - which will mean we won’t see each other as much or as freely - or I’ll be kept on one of two contracts with SM. Either an exclusive contract with EXO with allowances for freelance tutoring in my free time within SM, or a contract with SM where I would not be assigned any specific group but would be available at the company to provide lessons for existing artists and trainees. Either of those options would mean we would see more of each other, but the latter would mean we would not be able to speak as freely as we do now with each other.”

“I spent a lot of time stressing about what I wanted to happen and what possible scenarios could happen but I guess professionally any option is good for me as all options mean I remain working in this field and helping others improve their language skills. I stress over large changes in my life, not sure if that is something I’ve ever mentioned, but it’s a thing. Obviously.” You scoffed as you made a vague gesture at yourself and the clear state of stress you were in. “Personally, I don’t want to lose what we have. I cherish each of you and love that we’ve still been able to hang out and play around while we’re all working. I know we’d make it work if I have to go to another company but I know we would see each other significantly less than we do now.”

You took a deep breath. You hadn’t looked at any of them while you spoke. You knew if you saw their eyes you’d stop speaking. So you just couldn’t. Not yet. What if they looked at you with pity, anger, happiness, disgust, or worse - indifference. You could rationalise it if they felt something, but seeing them feel nothing when your mind had been fucking chaos might just be the straw that broke the camels back. You didn’t look at them. “So to sum up, I overthought everything, stressed, spiralled and withdrew from all of you which may or may not have been the right thing to do but I’m here now. I should know in a few days where my future lies work-wise but wanted to open the floor to discuss whatever this relationship we all have now is because I don’t think it is something I can resolve by myself. We don’t have to discuss it now, but I want you to think about it. I don’t know if you view me as a friend or as someone you want to pursue something with, or someone you no longer wish to see. I’m sorry to just dump all of this on you but I need to put it all out there, as much as I can right now anyway.” 

You’d done it. You’d told them what had been going on in your mind. Mostly. You hadn’t discussed your feelings but you’d mentioned all possibilities so that had to count for something. You really just wanted to run and hide, to become invisible rather than be perceived right now, but you knew you had to remain in your spot and hear what they had to say. No matter what it was. 

Chanyeol was the first to speak. He ran his hands through his hair as he tried to keep his tone even. “Not going to lie, this is a lot. I think I speak for all of us when I say that, and I think you know that. I appreciate you opening up to us about what was going on in your head, I'm sure we all do, even if it does leave us with more questions and discussions to have.”

You nodded. It was a lot. You knew it. You’d lived with all of it in your brain. It was only fair to give them time as well. That’s why you’d said you didn’t need to discuss it now.

Minseok was next to speak, he smiled softly at you, his own way of trying to calm your nerves even now. “I don’t think it’s something we should talk about tonight. You know as well as we do that we can be impulsive and that discussions can get heated quickly if we haven’t had time to choose our words. As weird as it will be I think we all need to take some time to think about what we want, and what will work best moving forward.”

You nodded again. You’d used all your words in speaking to them and now could bring yourself to speak. 

“This is going to sound shitty noona, and for that I’m sorry but I don’t think there is a diplomatic way to put it, well at least not one that I can think of right now,” Junmyeon said, sighing as he had to be the guy to say it. “but we do need to consider how it might affect the group if one or more of us are interested in pursuing you, especially if it means some may be rejected. At the end of the day, EXO has to come first, and god I know that’s a shitty thing to say, but it’s something we need to think about and probably talk about amongst ourselves. No offence.” You knew someone would have to raise that point, and it was a valid one, one you’d thought about as well. It did make sense that it was their leader who was the one to say it. After all, he always did put the group above everything else.

You had to speak, nodding wouldn’t suffice in response to that. It would only make him feel like a jerk and that was the last thing you wanted him to feel. You cleared your throat and hoped you said the right things. “All valid points, and don’t worry, there’s no offence taken, Junmyeon. I’d also thought that you should all take some time away from me to think over what you want and to discuss with the group. If one or more of you wanting to pursue me would negatively affect the group then I don’t think anything more than friendship is possible.” 

You paused. Would they think of this option if you didn’t raise it? You weren’t sure. But if it helped them with their deliberations then it was worth the level of embarrassment you were about to feel by simply suggesting it. “I guess the last thing for me to put out there is that after some thinking, I’m not opposed to exploring the possibility of a polyamorous type of situation if that is something you guys land on. However, I’m also not opposed to monogamy or just friendship with all of you. It might sound like I either don’t care that much or that I don’t know what I want, and the latter is somewhat true, but I did draw a line between what we were doing in the rewards versus hanging out outside of that and it prevented me from allowing too many feelings to take root. I’m not sure where any of you stand and I don’t want to know right now either since all of this” You gestured with your hand, waving it vaguely to indicate all of you. “Is so fresh and we all have a lot to consider, or not consider. I don’t know.” Breathe you told yourself. You had to breathe or you’d panic before this conversation ended.  “I’ll hopefully have a follow up meeting in a couple of days and then will know what will be happening with the work aspect of my life. I think we should meet once I know that side of things and chat again? But if you need more time, I would completely understand.”

Not much was said after that. The air was tense and awkward as you all kind of forgot how to act around each other. You stayed for a little while to hear about the plans for their encore concert but as soon as that conversation topic dwindled, you said your goodbyes and headed back to your apartment.

It might be time to call your friend. You were more confused after that meeting and once again on the precipice of a breakdown. You couldn’t wade through this on your own and you couldn’t ask one of the guys for help because this was about them. You couldn’t tell your friend every detail, but you could tell her enough. 

[10:49PM] You: So uh, are you free for that chat?

[10:49PM] Your bestest friend in the whole world: For you? Always. 

***

You awoke the next morning to the sound of a text message notification on your phone. You rubbed your eyes as you tried to focus on the name of the contact who sent the message. You sat up in your bed as soon as your eyes managed to make out that the message was from your boss. Hopefully it was the message you’d been waiting for.

[7:42AM] Mr. Kim: Good morning, I hope you have had sufficient time to relax since returning from the overseas tour with EXO. I had a meeting this morning with SM’s CEO, Lee Soo Man about your performance under the current contract you have with SM and what his thoughts were for your potential future prospects at the company. I’ve scheduled a meeting for us at midday at my office. I’ll see you in a few hours to discuss. 

If you were half awake at the start of that message, you were wide awake now. Of course a meeting is called the day after you dropped what felt like a literal bomb on your nine upstairs neighbours. You had just over four hours to freshen up and get yourself over to his office. Not that you were nervous… not at all… not even a little bit. It wasn’t like the outcome of this meeting determined the future of your career or anything. No, shut up. You tried telling your mind as it attempted to spiral before any form of carb or sugar entered your system. You repeated your father’s words over in your head as you picked out clothes for the meeting, a simple and professional outfit that you would not anxiety sweat through before you even reached Mr. Kim’s office. You showered and got yourself ready for the day and whatever it would bring. Maybe it would be better once it was all over, then you could stop overthinking and fretting about every possible outcome. That wasn’t how you liked doing things but it seemed to be what happened whenever it was important to you. When you cared.

Just before you left the apartment you sent a message to the group chat so that everyone was kept up to date.

[10:25AM] You: Hey, just a heads up that I’m on my way to a meeting now. LSM has made his decision and I’ll know my work fate in a couple of hours. I know I suggested meeting again after I had my meeting but given I literally only proposed everything to you last night, I’ll bench our talk until you guys have had time to deliberate and all that. Just reach out when you want to chat and I’ll make myself available. 

It felt clinical and not how you’d ever spoken to them when there was no one to overhear your conversations. It felt like how you spoke to them when one of their managers was present. It felt wrong and something in your heart hurt. There was no response, but you could see the members slowly reading your message. Sehun reacted to it with a thumbs up message which then spurred everyone into chatting, mainly to scold Sehun but seeing the chat alive again felt right.

You put your phone on do not disturb mode as you approached Mr. Kim’s office, coffee in hand. Not the iced variety that was so popular among idols. No, the purpose of this coffee was not to keep you awake, rather it was to give you a caffeine hit as well as comfort you with its warmth. You were always nervous when it came time for a performance review, but unlike last time with Blackpink, you were a lot closer with the members of EXO and their staff. Unlike last time you knew that you had done your job successfully, you’d been present to witness the members grow in their language skills and watched them deliver their ments to their American audiences with little to no translation required. The only slip was the night Baekhyun forgot his lines, but the following shows he required no assistance.

Once you arrived, Mr. Kim’s secretary ushered you into his office, telling you he was just finishing up a meeting in another room and would be with you shortly. Thankfully you did not have to wait long before he entered the room. He smiled and greeted you warmly then moved to sit at his desk. You’d been in this room a few times now and it was always nerve wracking. 

“Once again I can tell that you are eager to hear your evaluation.” He chuckled.

You nodded. “Apparently my face hides nothing from you.”

“Actually your face is not what gave you away, it was the fidgeting fingers this time.” He pointed at your free hand which was unfortunately fidgeting with the buckle on your handbag.

Your fingers stilled, but you itched to keep busy with something. Anything to get the frenetic energy out of your system. “You got me. Now please put me out of my misery already and give me my evaluation.”

Lucky for you, he prided himself on business and got right to it. You never had to endure too much small talk with him. It was a much more pleasant experience than the managers you had back before moving here. They seemed to want to spend up to ten minutes chatting about nothing before switching to business mode. That was not the Mr. Kim way. His way was better. For you at least. Mr. Kim pulled a file up on his computer and turned the screen so that you could see it as well. “As you already know from the last time we did this, we assess you in three areas. 1. How well the tasks were performed 2. How you worked with the clients and 3. Work ethic/professionalism. I’ve reviewed the recording of the last meeting you had during the tour as well as received feedback from the SM CEO.” 

He clicked on a file and opened it. “This is a review of the tasks performed. As you can see, it was unanimous across the board that you have excelled in this area. You successfully prepared the members for their interviews and concert ments, improving their English significantly. You joined the group on tour and no issues were reported by staff or the members, nor did you appear in any fan reports or cause any scandals.” He paused to look at you, a knowing smile on his face. “But you already know this from your meeting with the managers and Junmyeon. I’ll only add the feedback from their CEO. He said he was impressed that someone of your young age was able to successfully complete these tasks to the level that you did, he made special mention of the tailored lessons as a genius move on your part. He noted that whilst it would be an arduous task for all clients, it worked for EXO in ways no one expected. They have not had this level of success in teaching a group that didn’t already have a member with a decent grasp on English or a native English speaker. He was also very impressed that you were able to fit in and work seamlessly with a well established team.” Mr Kim paused, signalling that you could now speak before he addressed the next criterion.

So far things were going well. Logically you knew that you had succeeded in your role, but it was always a relief to hear it. Hearing from your boss and the head of the group's company eradicated the last of the anxiety you felt about your ability as a teacher. “Thank you Mr Kim. I felt that I was succeeding in my role and I am glad to have that confirmed by the head of their company, but I do have to ask what he meant about my age?”

“Most translators or teaching staff that are brought in are older than you. Especially when it comes to English. There is a greater risk when idols are involved and most companies specifically request someone over 40 to be assigned so that there could never be any misunderstandings around the nature of the relationship.” He replied.

Your brow furrowed. “Then how did I get the job? I’m significantly younger than that, even if I’m still older than the members.” 

He smiled smugly. “Ah well that was me. I know companies prefer older staff, especially when they are working with the opposite sex, but I had a hunch that you would succeed where others had failed with EXO. Their CEO reluctantly agreed to trial you and had to admit he was pleasantly surprised after receiving the one month evaluations of the members progress.” 

Noticing that you weren’t going to add any more to that discussion, Mr. Kim moved on. He scrolled through the document until he reached the heading indicating the second criterion. “Before I move into discussing the external evaluations I would like to say that I am personally very impressed that you took on the feedback provided after your time with Blackpink and applied it to EXO. You managed to become more familiar with them and it shows in the reviews from the others. I strongly believe that this improvement is what made this job such a success for you.” He gestured towards you. “So I wanted to commend you on the large improvement in this area.”

You smiled. “Thank you Mr. Kim. Your advice was intrinsic to the development of the tailored lessons as well as my comfortability in becoming closer with the members so that we could work together to the best of our abilities.”

“As you know from the feedback from both managers and members, you exceeded expectations in this area, and everyone benefited from your approach. The CEO questioned whose idea it was for you to become closer to the members and expressed the concerns he had about it. Once I explained that it was feedback that you had been given from myself and the reasons why I felt it would improve outcomes, especially given your closeness in age to any 2nd or 3rd gen idols in comparison to the on staff teachers who were usually around the same age as the idols parents he understood. He stated that whilst he had his reservations about that kind of approach given the potential issues that could arise, dating scandals, sasaeng accusations, unprofessionalism etc. he could see how it worked in the members favour. The group had undergone quite a few hardships prior to this comeback, with members leaving and dating scandals damaging their public image. He stated that they were likely to be quite reserved and untrustworthy of someone new to their staff and that it would take a long time for them to begin to trust a new staff member. However, you managed to make them feel comfortable and not lose the authority you had over them as their teacher, whilst remaining respectful at all times. He said he was very pleasantly surprised by this.” He sat back in his chair while you processed his words. Mr. Kim had only had meetings with you a handful of times before this, but he already knew to let you take a moment while his words sunk in before having you respond. 

A weight lifted off your shoulders. Yes, you recalled the nature of the meeting you had with the managers and Junmyeon whilst overseas, but your brain had managed to twist their inarguably positive feedback into statements that you had turned over in your mind repeatedly as you second guessed every moment you’d spent with the members. Knowing that the CEO was reviewing all of the work you had completed overseas had stressed you more than you had realised. It was as if you could feel the tension leaving your body every time Mr. Kim read out his feedback. 

“I’m glad my efforts have been recognised, and that I’ve shown improvement in this area. I also understand the concerns their CEO had. We had meetings with the members and their managers regarding safety and security of both the members and myself to ensure no photos were snapped if we were not on a schedule. The last thing any of us wanted to do was bring negative attention to this working relationship. We also discussed at length the boundaries we should draw in order to not become overly familiar with each other and I believe that assisted greatly.” It wasn’t a lie as such. You really did have those meetings and you really did discuss those boundaries. It was just the managers weren’t present for the third meeting which involved you and the members working out how to put each other in line if any of you slipped and a glimpse of how close you really were slipped through. It was a miracle nothing ever happened in view of other staff or the public, but there were a couple of close calls. You’d all been very lucky in that regard.

Mr. Kim powered on. “On to the final point, we’ve never had any issues with your work ethic or professionalism, and neither have the members or managers. Their feedback was passed on to the CEO, who praised you for being available at short notice in order to fit with the members busy schedules. He was also very happy that the members did not abuse this clause in your contract but rather made sure the others were aware if one of them had required you early in the morning or late at night so that they could avoid overworking you.” Mr. Kim closed the document. “I’ll be honest, he got rather sidetracked at this point and spent a good ten minutes praising his EXO boys. I can assure you that he was very pleased with both your work ethic and professionalism. He agreed with the manager's statements that you clearly succeeded at your role, exceeding all expectations that were had of you.” He chuckled as he shook his head. “But once he starts talking about those boys it is hard to shut him up. You’d think they were his sons sometimes.”

You allowed yourself a pleased hum at the feedback you’d received. High marks in all areas of assessment. Exceeded expectations, exemplary results. “Thank you Mr. Kim. I’m very glad that my hard work paid off and that my approach was successful for the members.” You paused. “However, as much as I want to just bask in this feedback, I am too curious about my contract. Did their CEO happen to mention if he planned to renew my contract, or are you finding me a new group to work with?” You needed to know, and you needed to know like two weeks ago at this point. 

Mr. Kim, to his credit, did not outright laugh at your impatience. Instead he opened a drawer and pulled out a manila folder. “I understand that this must have been weighing on your mind these past few weeks.” 

You nodded. “You would be very correct.”

“He did come to a decision. I won’t draw this out as I can tell you just want me to get to the point. He was incredibly impressed by your determination and competency, and as we all know, the results speak for themselves. He does want to offer another contract, however it would differ from your current one.” He stated.

“How so?” You asked.

“Firstly, this contract would not commence until three months from now.” He explained. “They want you to continue your work with the company, working with all of their artists. EXO would take priority if and when they have any overseas schedules that would require them to speak English. The rest of the time you would assist whichever groups or artists he deems in need of your skills. You would also offer lessons in the company like you did whilst EXO were in Japan during your contract.” Mr. Kim slid the folder across the table for you to pick up and look over. 

“I am grateful to have the opportunity to continue to work with SM. Like I said in my meeting overseas, I have been treated exceptionally well by their company, its staff and idols and welcomed the opportunity to continue working with EXO, be assigned to another group within the company or as an in-house teacher/translator.” Well there it was, they had offered another contract. You could keep working for SM, potentially with the guys as long as their schedules required English, but you’d still be in the same building as them. There was a decent break before commencement which was nice, but you did have concerns about your income. Not working for three months would be a struggle for you financially. “I do have questions regarding the three month break in between contracts though.”

“I believe my next statement should cover whatever concerns you have.” He directed your attention to another section of the new contract. “During that time, SM has stated that they will contact you for freelance work if/when required but that you are also not exclusively bound to the label during that time, so you can assist other companies and artists. This will allow you to continue to earn income and gain further experience in this field. I will also say that you will find in the proposed contract that your fees have increased. I did not consult you on that, but felt that you had every right to request a higher rate given the success of your work thus far. I would encourage you to take a break for a couple of weeks, more if you wanted to take this opportunity to visit home, before letting me know you are ready for some more work with other artists. I do have one group in particular that I think would work for this short timeframe. They have not yet debuted but they do have varying levels of proficiency in English, varying from fluency to what is taught in our schools here.” He waved a hand in front of his face as he realised he’d said too much. “But that is a discussion for another date, I’m getting ahead of myself.”

You smiled, genuinely too. This was wonderful news and it settled a large part of your anxiety to have secured more work, especially work that would require little change. “Thank you Mr. Kim. I’ll take this contract home to review but it sounds promising. I think I will take a couple of weeks off to rest and recuperate, but I would like to request a clause be added to this contract. I understand that I may have some further changes to request, but I’m reasonably certain this one won’t already be in there.”

“What would that request be?” He asked.

“An allowance for one or two weeks of consecutive leave within the next 6 months for me to visit my family. I’m not ready to make a trip home yet, but I know I will be during that time period and I don’t wish to be told that I cannot go. I would provide sufficient notice for the leave, unless there was an emergency, so as to not hinder the progress of their artists' lessons.” In your mind it sounded reasonable, and you’d heard of difficulties with obtaining leave from work in Korea, so you wanted to safeguard yourself as best as you could. 

“I’ll have our lawyers make the addition. We’ll hold off sending it to SM until you’ve read through the contract and made any other amendments.” He stood and shook your hand. “You’ve done well so far, and I continue to be impressed with your work.”

The meeting ended shortly after that which you were glad for. The feedback was self esteem boosting, and proved to yourself that you had done a great job, that your hard work had not only paid off but had been noticed. You also managed to tell yourself that your closeness with the guys wasn’t the sole factor for your success, they really did suck at English before your lessons and whilst the sex during the rewards and punishments was great, you were pretty sure you couldn’t learn a language purely from fucking. Somewhere along the lines, your lessons struck a chord with them and they wanted to learn, so they did, and it stuck. That was a job well done by you. 

After you left Mr. Kim’s office you put your phone back in normal mode.The group chat had been busy these past few hours. Message notifications flooded your phone as you began the commute home. They had pinned a message so that you wouldn’t miss it once you finally checked your phone.

[11:48AM] Minseok: Please tell us when you finish your meeting. Kyungsoo wants you to come up for dinner so you can tell all of us what the outcome was. 

The messages after were a chorus of predictions and bickering. 

[11:51AM] Jongin: I think SM will do another contract.

[11:51AM] Sehun: Well duh. They’d be stupid to let her help our competitors.

[11:52AM] Jongdae: Noona could make some sweet demands if they offer a new contract.

[11:52AM] Kyungsoo: Yeah, make SM work for it. Lord knows they’ve fucked over too many idols in contracts. If they offer a new one MAKE A LAWYER LOOK AT IT.

[11:53AM] Yixing: Make demands of your own too. Make that thing benefit you, coz if they offer a new contract it means they want to stop you from working with other companies.

[11:53AM] Chanyeol: MAKE. SM. WORK. FOR. YOU. You’ll have the upper hand and they don’t want you to know that.

[11:54AM] Baekhyun: Yeah, fuck SM!!!

[11:54AM] Junmyeon: Guys… 

[11:54AM] Minseok: Idk man, all I see is valid points being made.

[11:55AM] Junmyeon: I… you were meant to be on my side Minseok.

[11:55AM] Minseok: I never promised that. 

[11:55AM] Minseok: Fuck SM. 

[11:56AM] Kyungsoo: So I think we might be doing the opposite of encouraging you to consider taking another contract with them if they offer. What we mean to say is, have someone look over the contract, make some demands (because they have to acknowledge your worth now) and know that our disdain for our company comes from the nature of idol contracts which are VERY different to the kind of contract you would be offered. 

[11:56AM] Junmyeon: Thank you!

[11:57AM] Kyungsoo: Stop making me do your job man. 

There were another 500 messages after that (which you did not read), but you made sure to send one as requested

[3:30PM] You: Holy crap that is a lot of messages. No offence but I am not reading through all of them. As requested, I’m letting you know that I’ve finished my meeting. I’m heading back to the apartment now. What time do you want me up there for dinner?

[3:30PM] Kyungsoo: Food should be ready at 7 PM. 

[3:30PM] You: I’ll see everyone then.

***

“Noona, can we talk before you come up for dinner?” You’d picked up on the first ring when you’d seen Baekhyun’s name pop up.

He sounded unsure of himself, which was a rarity. “Sure Baek. Is everything ok?”

“I think so? I hope so.” He groaned in frustration. “Ugh I don’t know.”

Now you were getting concerned. Was he ok? “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been thinking about everything you talked about last night and I think I understand why you had to just unload everything all at once to us.” He took a deep breath. “My brain has been working too much and making too many scenarios for me to keep up with.” 

Well that you could relate to. You really didn’t wish the clusterfuck that had been your thoughts over this past week on anyone, so you empathised with Baek if he was suffering with the downward spiral that too many thoughts inevitably brought. “I get that. Would it help if you just tell me everything?”

He was quiet for a moment as he thought over his options. Quite likely he was worried that speaking to you would only make things worse. That’s precisely what made you a nervous wreck before you word vomited all over their living room last night. “Maybe. Might make everything worse, I don’t know.”

You tried to sound reassuring. It was always easier for you to provide comfort in person or via text. Over the phone was some strange middle ground where you didn’t always stick the landing. “It’s just me. Since when have we ever not been able to talk to each other?”

“You’re right.” He said. “Fuck. Ok.” Yeah, he was nervous. Should you be nervous? Was he about to reject you? Was he going to confess? No. You needed to remain as calm as possible. He was the one allowed to freak out right now, not you. 

You pushed your growing anxiety down and said as reassuringly as you could. “I’m right here. Promise.”

You heard him take a steadying breath before he started speaking. “I guess I’ve been trying to work out where things stand between us.” He said. “It’s never just been friendship between you and I. There was always flirtation and we only got bolder with it as time went on until we had sex, which I know was as a result of my lesson, but I don’t know, we only had the lesson because we were about to fuck and you stopped it from happening until after that. I guess it felt like more than just because of the reward stuff I guess. It felt like something that was inevitable, like we were orbiting each other until we would ultimately collide.” He took a breath, meanwhile your heart was hammering in your chest. 

“I know we’ve discussed it and both agreed that there was something more there, some kind of feelings neither of us had addressed. I don’t know how you feel now, but for me, after we slept together those feelings only intensified. I still didn’t know what they were so I just assumed they were born from lust but when you asked for space and then went silent for days I realised that they weren’t feelings of lust. I realised that I care deeply for you and the very thought of you not being in my life hurt me to my very core. I know it was just sex for you and everyone else but for me, I can’t say for sure, but I think I like you as far more than a friend and would not be satisfied just being a fuck buddy. I know I said I would never entertain us ever being able to actually be a real thing but I want that so much that it is physically painful. I needed to tell you before we all talked tonight because I want to be selfish and pursue you myself but I don’t know where you stand. I don’t know if I’m making a fool of myself right now and you’re thinking of the nicest way to reject me or if you don’t know how you feel or if you feel the same. All I know is that I barely slept last night after I realised all of this and I had to say something.”

“Baek,” You started.

He didn’t let you get the words out, not that you even knew what those words would be. So maybe him interrupting you was for the best right now. “I know this is a lot to dump on you, I know that, but I needed to say it.”

You weren’t sure if you were ready to tell him everything you realised on your call last night. It was still too confusing. Still too fresh. But you also couldn’t leave him hanging with nothing after he just poured his heart out to you. “You know I have feelings for you, just that at the time I didn’t know what those feelings were.”

“Have you worked it out since then?” He all but whispered, as though he was scared of what your response would be. 

You couldn’t say it yet. You couldn’t say it until you believed it yourself. It wasn’t fair to him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to utter the words back to him. Not yet. “I think so but I’m not sure. I am so scared of ruining everything Baek.”

“I’ll let you think some more, but I want you to know that for me it is about much more than sex now. So think about how you feel and ask yourself if you feel the way you feel about me with anyone else?” He tried his best not to sound deflated, but you didn’t miss the pang of hurt in his voice as he spoke. He’d just confessed to you and whilst you hadn’t rejected him, you hadn’t reciprocated his feelings. You felt overwhelmed. You needed to say something, but what? What could you possibly say when you weren’t ready to admit how you felt, when you were too terrified to ask for what you wanted.”

You had to say something. For him, you couldn’t just leave him with nothing. “I -”

He cut you off again, though this time it was probably out of fear that you would reject his confession. “Don’t answer now. Just think about it and we’ll talk later. Bye noona.” He hung up before you could attempt to speak again.

You hung your head in shame. Why couldn’t you just tell him? You didn’t realise you were crying until you felt a tear hit your hand. You sank to the floor and let yourself cry for a few minutes, too overwhelmed with emotion to even try to stop the tears from falling. You felt guilty for not being able to tell him how you felt, for feeling like you were toying with his heart. This sweet, funny and endearing man, who had been so good to you. When he needed you the most, you’d choked. You didn’t deserve the feelings he harboured for you, how could you if you couldn’t even respond to him. How could you be deserving of that love when you all but pushed him away. 

By some stroke of luck your eyes weren’t too red or puffy when you checked them before leaving your apartment. You really hoped your night didn’t end with you returning to this apartment to cry over a ruined relationship. There was only one way to find out, and in order to do that, you needed to walk out your front door and head upstairs.

***

“Alright, how did the meeting go?” Sehun broke the silence that was permeating the dinner table. Everyone had greeted you when you’d arrived, and made some small talk about their day. That felt strange. You’d never lacked for conversation with these men, but now they seemed to be walking on eggshells around you and you weren’t sure if it was because they were trying to protect themselves or you from where this evening went.

Regardless, you decided to put on a brave face and do your best to hear them out without breaking down. You felt exposed, fragile and breakable. But you pretended otherwise as best as you could. You just hoped they couldn’t see through the facade. “Really well. The feedback was all very positive and everyone agreed that I did an excellent job. Your CEO expressed his concerns about my boss and the managers suggesting that we be more personable but he agreed that the fact that we did that probably served as a catalyst for the success of the lessons.”

“That’s fantastic news!” Jongin said, far louder than he or anyone else at the table were prepared for. Everyone, Jongin included, jumped a little at his volume. He muttered a bashful apology afterwards, stating that he was just really happy for you.

You smiled at him. He was so very different to what the general public saw when he was onstage. He was soft spoken and endearing beyond words. “I’m also really grateful for the feedback you guys provided. I didn’t get a chance to say it before so I’ll say it now, thank you. Your words meant so much to me.” It was the honest truth. You had no idea that they would be asked for feedback about your work, and while they could have provided generic positive feedback they didn’t. Instead they provided in depth feedback about your abilities and how well you had worked with them. You would be forever grateful for the kind words contained in their feedback.

Kyungsoo decided to add to the conversation, his soft yet commanding voice cutting through your thoughts. “Bias aside, you earned that feedback. We did our best to only give the facts and not let our friendship cloud our opinions of you.”

“You cannot deny that we sucked at English before you noona.” Chanyeol quipped, laughing as he spoke.

Junmyeon looked personally attacked by his words. “Speak for yourself!”

“No, he’s right. We were bad at it.” Minseok laughed. “Like really fucking awful.”

Yixing pushed the food around on his plate with his chopsticks. “Anyway, uh, not to be pushy or anything but did you talk about what’s next for you?” He briefly locked eyes with you before diverting his gaze back to his plate.

“Yeah we did. Uh, they offered me another contract.” You saw all nine heads suddenly turn towards you and felt their gazes on you. “I do have to read over it and make sure it's fair but essentially they want to put me on contract for another 2 years. If EXO has schedules requiring English, then me teaching you takes priority over other groups, otherwise I’m free to work with any artists under the SM umbrella. Your CEO may assign me a group to work with, or managers may request my help. If no one requests then I’m kind of an in-house teacher/translator.”

Jongdae grinned. “I’m not going to lie, I’m glad they offered you more work, they would have been idiots not to, but it does mean you won’t be a stranger.”

Minseok was more hesitant as he spoke.“What are your thoughts on it, just based on the offer given you haven’t read it yet.”

You sat back in your chair, contemplating your response. “I’ve only had good experiences with SM so far, so the offer sounds good to me. I know a lot of the staff, I know the building, the resources, I know some of the artists, obviously I know all of you and work well with you. It feels like a good choice over starting anew elsewhere and hoping that I’m treated as well as I am here.” You smiled a little. “Plus, I get to see you guys if I’m still here, that’s a bonus.” 

A smile finally formed on Minseok’s face. “I know we may have come across a bit brash earlier but,”

“Oh don’t worry. I already had a copy sent to a lawyer to look over it, and I also made a request for a leave allotment to be added into the contract.” You cut him off, already guessing what he was referring to from the earlier flood of messages. “Once I read through it myself I’ll discuss it with my lawyer and make any other changes that need doing then return it to Mr. Kim to negotiate for me.”

The unanimous response that came from all of them was creepily synchronised. “Good.” 

You thanked all of them for their kind words again. “The contract won’t start for a few months, so until then I’m likely going to be freelancing. Mr. Kim has an idea of another group I can work with briefly before I become exclusive to SM. I think I’m going to take a couple of weeks off before committing to any of that though. I need some time to recalibrate.” 

“Uh I guess that brings us to the elephant in the room.” Junmyeon said.

You waved your hands in front of you, not sure you would ever be ready for this conversation, but after how well the contract renewal offer had just gone you were apprehensive about the ‘what are we’ conversation. “Oh, we really don’t have to talk about it yet. I only mentally unloaded on all of you last night so if you need to take more time before discussing with me, please do.”

He chuckled awkwardly. “That’s the funny thing I think. Without really realising it we have discussed it over the past few months as things progressed.”

“Oh.”

He straightened in his seat and looked directly at you. “Yeah. We kind of realised that last night when we started trying to discuss it.” He shifted, trying to get comfortable in his head. That was the only sign you had that he was equally as nervous about this conversation as you were. “I think we should each just speak for ourselves and then go from there?” He offered.

All you could do was nod. “That seems fair.” This was happening. You weren’t sure you were prepared for it, regardless of what they said. 

“As the leader I’ll go first.” He shifted again, this time his eyes looked everywhere but you as he spoke. “I, well, uh, I’ve actually just started seeing someone. It’s very early days but I really like her and want to pursue things with her. My parents introduced us and weirdly we kind of hit it off, which is not what usually happens when my parents play matchmaker.” 

You thought you’d feel sad at being told someone wasn’t romantically interested in you, because that’s what this was right? He was dating someone and he really liked them. But rather than feeling like you’d been stabbed in the heart you felt happy for him. “So at present, pursuing anything other than friendship with you isn’t something I’m interested in. I also think we work better as friends and don’t want to lose the relationship we’ve got. We did have the least amount of sexual interaction so I don’t think it will have any impact on our friendship moving forward.” Once he finished speaking he lifted his gaze to you, apprehensively since he wasn’t sure how you’d react, but he visibly relaxed when he saw you beaming at him. “As long as a potential relationship with another member or members doesn’t leave anyone unsatisfied from the start then I give my blessings.”

“Are we going in age order?” Sehun asked.

Chanyeol replied. “That’s boring, just go in seating order.” 

“Fine.” Sehun sighed, resigned to his fate of being the next to speak. “Noona, I cannot deny that my punishment was fun and that I experienced more than I ever thought I would. But for me it was never that deep I guess.” He shrugged. “The punishment/reward was an opportunity to explore some fantasies with no strings attached with a person who I trusted. I think I’d be a shitty boyfriend to you as well, I can barely take care of myself, and it wouldn’t be fair to you to put up with that burden. I’m not boyfriend material yet.” He wasn’t wrong about that. He always turned up unannounced, never read the room, stole all your chocolates and sulked if he wasn’t the centre of attention. Well, not always, but it happened more than it probably should. Maknae privileges. “However, I am excellent bestie material. So I’d like to remain a very good friend to you.” You’d been rejected as a romantic partner but once again, you didn’t feel sad. Sehun was an excellent friend to have. He loved chatting so he always had good gossip and he was so beloved that he could almost get away with murder. He smiled softly at you, hoping you weren’t disappointed in his choice. 

Kyungsoo took a sip from his glass of water before grounding himself and speaking. “There are circumstances where I could see myself truly falling for you. You have a lot of the qualities that I look for in a partner. But I have to be truly honest with myself, and if I do that then I have to say that right now, I am so insanely career driven - both with music and acting. It doesn’t leave much time to fit in a relationship in a way that is fair to either person.” Logical reasoning. You understood that, but much like you had forced yourself to do last night, you wondered where his heart lay in this. “Our reward was incredibly fun, and something I would do again in a heartbeat, but it would be with no strings attached. I value your friendship above everything else and I also think that whilst you put poly on the table as an option, and it is not something I’m opposed to, I can’t ignore the fact that Baekhyun clearly has feelings for you that run deeper than I originally thought. So I think it would be unfair to pursue anything with you to see if feelings develop when one of us is already carrying that torch for you.” 

You were shocked. Baekhyun barely even reacted to Kyungsoo’s words, something that unnerved you. You could feel him staring at you. Was he that obvious to them? Had he told them? Kyungsoo wanted to simply remain friends, and if he wasn’t so aware of how Baekhyun felt then he would have been fine to have a friends with benefits kind of situationship going on. You weren’t really sure what to do with that information. It was very flattering, but did you want to entertain someone who wasn’t sure if they had feelings for you? 

Too impatient to wait to see if you were going to respond to anything that had just been said, Jongin began speaking. “You have been one of my closest friends since the start. You looked after me when the guys were on tour while I was injured and we hung out so much. I think we bonded over fried chicken and movies.” He smiled fondly at the memory. “You were one of the first people that I’ve met since we debuted who wanted to know me for me, not for who I was as an idol. I agree with hyung, there is a future where I could see myself falling for you under the right circumstances, you’re kind of loveable like that noona, but I would trade that possibility in an instant for your friendship. It means the world to me. I also think there’s one of us who has real feelings for you and it makes me giddy to think of the two of you together.” Did he also mean Baekhyun or was there another member harbouring feelings for you?

The chair next to Jongin scraped on the floor as Jongdae tried to adjust his sitting position. If he’d been going to cool, calm and collected - he’d failed. He looked stressed beyond belief. Was it him? Did he have feelings for you? “Ok so, like the others I cannot deny how highly I value your friendship,” Ok so not him then. “or the fact that I am a person with two working eyes and have spent too much time around Baekhyun to not notice his feelings for you.” You glanced at Baekhyun who still seemed to be checked out of the conversation, even with his eyes locked on you. His gaze was somehow blank and intense at the same time. Did he not care what anyone else was saying about you? Was he really going to be that selfish? He said he wanted you to himself but did that mean that if anyone else at this table confessed that you’d have to reject both of them? Because if he was going to be this indifferent, especially when they kept talking about his feelings for you, then surely picking one person would only lead to a rift forming within the group. “All of that said, I’ve also kind of been seeing someone. And I like her, like a lot, like an insufferable amount. 

Minseok saw the opportunity to chime in. “He dreamt about having kids with her last night.” He smirked.

Jongdae looked mortified. “SHUT UP. Um, yeah. So that’s a thing and I just want my friend who I can ask questions to when I’m about to fuck everything up with my possible future wife. God I sound lame, I’m just going to stop talking now.” He sunk down in his chair, put his forehead on the table and banged it against the wood a few times. Minseok and a few others tried really hard not to laugh at him, but they failed miserably.

Chanyeol’s eyes darted around the table as he decided to try and pull focus from Jongdae, who appeared like he was waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “I uh, yeah I’m not dating anyone per se, but I’m also not looking to be tied down in a relationship right now.” Sehun snorted. “God, I sound like such a fuckboy saying that, but I think you kind of awoke some sort of confidence in me and I just want to play the field.” You heard a muttered “And absolutely no one is surprised you moron.” from Kyungsoo and had to stifle a laugh as Chanyeol continued to speak. 

“I care for you a lot, and I know one of us cares deeply for you so I want to leave things with us as friends. You’re interesting and fun to be around, you’re competitive in silly games and aren’t a sore loser. Hah, I could probably learn a thing or two from you there. Anyway, yeah. That’s me done.” Again someone saying that another member had feelings for you, but not specifying who. So did he mean Baek or did Yixing or Minseok also harbour feelings for you?  You were surprised how at peace you felt with everyone only wanting friendship from you - so far. Kyungsoo admitting he’d fuck you again in a heartbeat had shocked you. That man was usually much more reserved than that. 

Yixing was sitting next to you so he turned to you as he spoke. “Ah my sweet lady. I like you a lot,” He took your hand, his thumb caressing the back of your palm gently. “and honestly if I let myself I could so easily fall for you, but I’m also a workaholic to a fault. I have such high ambitions and drive for myself that I tend to fill up every minute I’m not on a schedule with more work.” He laughed. “If it weren’t for these guys, I’d probably forget to sleep.” He paused and you felt the room somehow grow even quieter. What the fuck was he about to drop on you that everyone else this still? “I’m also headed back to China in a few weeks and, ah this sucks,” He hung his head, clearly upset about having to leave Korea again. “I don’t know when I’ll get to come back this time. The political climate has never been great between our two countries but right now it is really tense.” 

Ah, that explained the feeling in the room. He was leaving and no one knew when or if he would return. You felt sad. You were going to miss him a lot, as were the rest of the guys. He always worked too hard when he was away from the group because no one on his team in China seemed to grasp how hard he would work himself unless they forced him to stop and take a rest. You returned your attention to the man in front of you. He sighed sadly. “So I’m going back and working on music as a soloist, working on some acting projects and would hopefully be back next year for our new album, but it's all kind of up in the air. I couldn’t burden you with any of the long distance crap and it wouldn’t be fair to either of us to even try to date and explore any feelings we may have when there would be such difficulty actually seeing each other. It will be a big enough strain on our friendship so whoever does end up dating you has my full support as long as they let me smother you with hugs when I return.” You were confused. His words made it seem like if it weren’t for returning to China, that he would want to date you, but he hadn’t said that he had feelings for you, just that he could see himself having feelings. Was it kind of like Kyungsoo’s situation? You let go of his hand as Chanyeol pulled him backwards into a big hug.

Minseok tapped you on the shoulder to get you to turn towards him. He smiled softly at you then took a deep breath. “Alright then.” He started. You knew he hated airing his business in front of others so regardless of what he was about to say, it was likely stressing him out. “Ah, well you and I probably had the most sex out of the group given the fuck buddy arrangement we’ve had going on. It was mostly stress relief and if we weren’t to have a physical relationship anymore, I don’t think it would drastically change our relationship. I value my movie nights with you over sex so ultimately I don’t want to lose my friendship with you. I trust you implicitly and we’ve both seen each other's ugly sides and haven’t run away from them. I could see circumstances where we pursue a romantic relationship, but like yourself, I haven’t really allowed my feelings to come into play so I’d be content just being your friend.” He glanced towards Baekhyun, who was staring at you. “Like the others, I also cannot ignore Baekhyun’s feelings towards you. I in no way want to come between what could be something beautiful between the two of you.”

Baekhyun doesn’t speak. He hasn’t said a word since you set foot in the dorm and he hasn’t averted his gaze from you the entire time. You could feel it boring into you while everyone spoke. He hadn’t said anything to correct anyone about his feelings for you and it seemed like he had no plans to speak in front of them either. You gave him a few moments to see if he was going to say anything, and noticed the way the others all looked towards him when he chose to remain silent.

You decided to respond to everyone else. Just because Baekhyun was choosing to be silent for the first time in his life didn’t mean it was fair to leave the eight other men in the lurch after they had all just told you how they felt. They needed to know how you were feeling about everything. “Well ok, this makes everything easier. After we spoke last night I did a lot more thinking about our relationships and where I wanted to stand with each of you. I came to the conclusion that your friendship means more to me than anything else and so with that, I was going to say that I think it is for the best that we don’t sleep together anymore. It kind of worked out well that all of you landed on that conclusion as well. Like some of you said, there are circumstances where I could see myself falling for you, but I’m also aware of how that would not be fair to explore, given everything. I love each of you in my own way, and I’m so happy that I get to keep my friends.” You could actually hear the en masse exhale that they let out once they heard you speak. They hadn’t hurt your feelings and everything was going to be ok. “The only thing I’ll ask, actually no - it’s more of a demand at this point - is that you stop being so awkward around me now. Things can go back to how they were, just don’t cross the line into being too inappropriate.”

They all laugh and agree, and just like that the strange tension that had surrounded the dorm disappears. However, one cloud of tension remains, concentrated solely around Baekhyun. He dropped his gaze when you’d spoken and hadn’t lifted it from the floor since. If anyone was worried about Baekhyun’s silence, they didn’t show it. You’d have to take him aside and speak with him soon enough. You’d promised to talk to him tonight. 

You continued to tell everyone how happy you were that they all wanted to remain friends with you, whilst also pressing Junmyeon and Jongdae for details about their dating life. You can practically see the hearts in their eyes when they talk about the new women in their lives and honestly, you couldn’t be happier for them. Poly was a fun idea to put on the table but it was never going to work long term for these guys. Logistically, emotionally or publicly. So it was for the best that none of you decided to venture down that path. 

Once everyone began to disperse you moved towards Baek and asked “Baek, can we speak privately?.” He shrugged but didn’t say no. He didn’t say anything. You walked towards his room and he followed you. You weren’t sure what the shift in him was from earlier this evening. Earlier he seemed like he wanted to date you, but now he wouldn’t even look at you and he looked so dejected and sullen, like he was fighting off tears. “Hey, Baek. Are you ok?” You asked. You wanted to reach out to comfort him but you weren’t sure if that would make matters worse. You had no idea what he was feeling.

He nodded in response, still not uttering a word. 

“Sweetie, you need to speak to me if you want me to believe you.”

“I’m just.” He sighed, “I guess I’m just struggling. Like of course I want to keep you as a friend, not having you in my life would be too hard, but I guess I was really hoping you’d work out your feelings for me as more than that.” He stared at the ceiling as he tried to remain calm but you could tell he was beginning to crack. “I know it wouldn’t be easy dating me, not because of who I am as a person, but because I’m an idol. Like we’d have to be secretive and couldn’t be all couply and go on normal dates like normal couples and maybe you don’t want to date someone who has to hide you. It’s just hard coz I realised all these feelings recently and now I’ve gotta reconcile with them and stuff them away. Which I will do, you are too important to me to not still be friends, but not gonna lie, it’ll be hard for me for a while I think.”

He just wanted to be friends now? But when he’d spoken to you earlier, he said he wanted so much more than that. You were so confused. “Baek, what are you on about?”

His head snapped back to stare at you incredulously. “What am I on about?!” He exclaimed, clearly frustrated and hurt. “You just told all of us that you want to remain friends with us. After I told you about how I felt earlier. So I guess I am not doing great with the rejection ok?”

Oh. Oh. Oh no. He’d misunderstood horribly. You’d responded to the others because they’d spoken. None of what you said at the table was for him because he hadn’t spoken. “No, oh my god no, you’ve misunderstood.” 

He looked so hurt, close to breaking as he responded. “What?”

You tried to remain calm, hoping it would make him calm. “Baek, I want to remain friends with the eight of them. I didn’t want to announce my feelings for you in front of them because you weren’t speaking. I didn’t know if you’d told any of them how you felt or if they’d all just worked it out, but then you didn’t speak. You stared at me the entire time but then you said nothing.” You paused as you took a step closer to him. “Plus my confession should be for your ears only first.”

He staggered backwards, not at all prepared for the words you’d said. “Wait, what are you saying?”

You locked eyes with him and did not break eye contact as you spoke. You needed to be certain that he heard you loud and clear. You’d been too weak to say it earlier, even though you knew how you felt. He deserved to hear it hours ago, but you couldn’t turn back time, so hearing it now would have to do. “Byun Baekhyun, I like you, a lot. Way more than is healthy for me I think. I want you in my life, I want to have you as one of my closest friends but I also want so much more. I want to be able to hold you, flirt with you, do domestic as fuck things with you, date you in whatever capacity we can date. I know that won’t be easy, I’m not naive about the secrecy that dating would require but to me you’re worth it. I want all of you, and I don’t want to share my romance with anyone but you. I’m not against bedroom scenarios that involve guests but I want you and only you as the person I fall even further for.”

“Fuck.” He whispered.

“Yeah. I want to do a lot of that too. You have no idea, but this is supposed to be romantic, not a confession from a horny teenager.” You both laughed. “I don’t know when my feelings changed or if I’d just ignored the way I felt about you for a long time but once I sat down and thought about my options with all of you, and spoke very discreetly with my best friend back home, I realised how sad I was every time I thought of not being able to be anything other than a friend to you. For every other member I was fine with the prospect of just friendship, but with you, it made me inexplicably sad.”

“Are you sure? Because don’t get me wrong, I want this, but it would be stupid of me to not understand the reality of it. Like you said, we won’t be able to go out on dates like a normal couple. We would have to be so careful. So unbelievably careful.” He paused as he took a couple of steps towards you, closing the distance between the two of you. “I think at this point a dating scandal wouldn’t ruin my career nor would it ruin EXO, but I’d be so worried about you.” He reached out to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lightly resting on your cheek afterwards. His eyes shone bright with emotion. He cared so much about you. “People can be so cruel, and I don’t want to see you hurt by their words should anything leak.”

You placed your hand over his, your eyes glistening with emotion. You knew his feelings for you, and he knew how you felt about him yet he still took the time to worry when he could be kissing you. “I don’t know that there is any way to prepare for the hate that would come my way if something got out about us, but I think that unless there was evidence of us in some compromising position it would be easy for SM to deny the rumours. In some ways working for the company and with the group allows for us to be seen together. We’d just have to keep things very work oriented when we aren’t in the safety of our homes.”

Baekhyun let out a shuddering breath. “I’m, fuck, why am I scared?”

You smiled. “Because. We really like each other. Fear is natural when you have something to lose but I think that just means trying to hang on to that special thing, or person in this instance, is worth anything that could be thrown at us. I’d like to think you wouldn’t just abandon me the moment a rumour comes out.”

He shook his head instantly. “I wouldn’t. I promise.”

“Then yeah, I’m all in on trying this thing. You and I. Exclusive. Together.”

His eyes widened at your words, like he still couldn’t quite believe this was happening. All the bravado you’d seen throughout the rest of your relationship with him was gone. The man who stood before you now was Baekhyun stripped bare. He was beautiful, inside and out. You don’t know how you denied yourself these feelings for so long, but if you continued to do so the sheer weight of what you felt might just consume you. “Is this really happening?” He asked.

“It is if you agree to it.” You replied. You stared up at him as you waited for him to accept your feelings and close the gap between you.

He leant in. “I can’t believe you actually like me. Didn’t you once say I was the most annoying person in the world?” He whispered. He was so close you could feel the ghost of the movement of his lips as he spoke.

“Maybe you’ll be less annoying if I get to call you mine.” Did he expect you to kiss him? Was he waiting for you to make the first move like you were waiting for him to do? 

“Oh. No. That’s where you’re wrong.” He smiled against your lips, the sensation of them touching but not kissing you was driving you insane. “I will be even more annoying if I’m yours.” His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, holding you in place.

“Still a risk I’m willing to take.” Baekhyun’s fingers tightened against your neck, stretching up into the edges of your hairline. He felt like he was trying to bring his own body as close to yours as possible. 

You waited for him to agree to date you, but he kept seemingly dodging a response. It was beginning to make your anxiety spike. What if he really liked you, admitted his feelings, yet still did not want to date you? Could you handle that? You didn’t think you could, not after laying your heart on the table for him like that. “Baek?” You asked.

“Yeah?” He replied as his free hand snaked around your waist, pressing your bodies against each other. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest as your breath hitched. 

“Please don’t leave me hanging.” You pleaded. You needed to hear him say it now that he knew how you felt. You felt light headed, and like your knees might buckle.

“What?” He sounded confused. The butterflies in your stomach felt like they were caught in a hurricane for how tingly you felt.

“I’ve told you what I want, confessed my feelings to you. B-but, you. You haven’t -” You struggled to get the words out.

He must have realised what you were trying to say as his grip on you tightened. “Fuck! Sorry noona, shit. I want to date the hell out of you.” You could feel how hard he was miling against your mouth as he spoke. “I’m excited for all the silly domestic things we can do. I want to buy couple pyjamas for us. I want to smother you with kisses and affection as much as I can when we are alone. If I don’t, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle my shit in public. I’m scared. I’m so so soooo happy, also a bit horny but that’s nothing new, mostly I’m just waiting to wake up from this dream.” You could feel yourself tremble, all the pent-up anxiety and fear and self-loathing having no other way to exit your body. The physical manifestation of the nerves wasn’t something you could control.

“Well could you hurry up and kiss me then?”

“Gladly.” Baekhyun closed the nonexistent gap between you as he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss started out softly, carefully and full of what could be referred to as love. He was kissing you with all the pent up emotion that he was now allowed to set free. You’d never been kissed like this before. Never been kissed in such a way where you could feel the emotion being poured into you. You felt desperate for him. It felt so good.

Baekhyun pressed harder against you as he kissed away all of your worries and doubts. You could feel how much he wanted you, more than just sexually, as his tongue swept across your lips, requesting entrance. You granted it readily, equally needing to devour him and reciprocate how you felt about him through the kiss. The raging butterflies in your stomach had morphed into tingling sensations that fluttered across every nerve ending. 

He pulled back just enough to cradle your face in his hands as he gazed at you with so much affection that you felt like you might combust. “I feel like I’ve gone crazy,” he chucked. “He didn’t allow you space to speak before jumping in to continue kissing you. 

You continued to kiss and hold each other for a while, trying to make up for lost time as you attempted to express every emotion via kisses. Some soft and loving, others rough and demanding. It’s you who pulled away the next time, as you both tried to catch your respective breaths. “We should tell the others.”

Baekhyun nodded. “Yeah, and then can we please go to your apartment? I just want to spend time with you. I don’t care if we just hold each other and make out or if we do more, I just want to be close to you.”

“That sounds perfect to me.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before you grabbed his hand. “Let’s go before we change our minds and they find us in here.” 

The two of you headed back out towards the living area hand in hand. The others all appeared to be caught up in various discussions but they stop once someone notices yours and Baekhyun’s intertwined hands. Baekhyun cleared his throat, unable to keep the smile off his face as he exclaimed. “We’re dating, and I hope all of you can be happy for us because, speaking for myself here, I’m really happy right now. I thought I’d lost her earlier tonight but as usual I misunderstood.” He smiled down at you. “Thank fuck it was a misunderstanding, otherwise all of you would be dealing with me being mopey and heartbroken.” 

One by one the members got up and came forward to embrace the two of you. You were over the moon with the outcome from this evening. You’d secured a new contract, didn’t have to move companies, got to keep some of the best friends you’d ever had and gained a boyfriend. Pretty productive night if you said so yourself. However, you couldn’t help but notice that neither Minseok or Kyungsoo had approached the two of you since Baekhyun’s announcement.

In fact, neither of them were even in the room. Suddenly the lights dimmed and the two missing members entered the room, holding a cake. It wasn’t anyone’s birthday. What was the cake for? As they got closer you heard the other members giggling and grew suspicious. Any of these men giggling was never a good sign. Finally the cake came into view as the two of them stood before you and Baekhyun. “Yah!” Baekhyun laughed as he tried his hardest to sound mad. “Did you fucking plan this?!”

“Dude, you could not have been more obvious in your affections as far as we were concerned. “Kyungsoo deadpanned. “After we all talked last night it became pretty obvious that none of us felt the same way you did, and whilst some of us could see ourselves reaching that point, we weren’t there now. We were always expecting you to confess, and well, noona, you were always closer to Baek than any of us. There was always something brewing under the surface there so we had faith that you’d reciprocate his feelings. So we figured baking a cake for the occasion was a sure bet.” 

“You did have us worried when you didn’t say a single word at the table but I’m glad to see it all worked out. We did change the message on the cake just in case you hadn’t confessed to each other by the time you came back out of the room.” Minseok smirked. You finally diverted your gaze to the cake. And laughed. You laughed so hard that you struggled to breathe.

Hurry up and confess to each other so we can celebrate.

“This was your amendment?!” You managed to splutter in between laughs.

Kyungsoo grinned. “Yeah. The original message said Congratulations on realising your feelings.” 

“I hate all of you, just so you know.” Baekhyun grumbled, though it was not even remotely convincing what with the huge smile on his face.

“You love us.” Minseok said. “And we’re very happy for you.”

“Now eat the damn cake. I baked it with love.” Kyungsoo said as he thrust the cake towards the two of you.

“You baked for us?” You asked as you smiled.

“Of course I did. I’d only let the others bake if I wanted you to be poisoned. I don’t know how he’d manage it but Junmyeon could give you food poisoning even if all the ingredients were in date. What do you take me for, a monster?” He replied, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

***

After the cake had been eaten,you and Baekhyun decided that it was time to take your leave and head down to your apartment for the night.  You made your way around the room to bid each of the members goodnight, and to give each of them a warm hug. You held Yixing extra tight, promising to come have a movie day with him before he had to return to China. You also made him promise to schedule video calls with you so you could keep in touch. He swore that we would and you planned to hold him to that promise.

Minseok walked the two of you to the door. The three of you chatted easily as you and Baekhyun put your shoes on. You were enveloped in a strong embrace as Minseok held you and told Baekhyun to take good care of you because you now had eight friends who would gut him if he hurt you. The weight of his words was diminished when he posed the exact same threat to you. Baekhyun laughed at his protective hyung, cooing at how cute he was for threatening the two of you. 

He didn’t let go of you as he reached out to playfully slap Baekhyun. To his credit, Baekhyun let the two of you have your moment as he watched you both silently. 

You should have known better. Silence and Baekhyun were never a good mix. “So what if I want Minseok to join in every now and again?” He said as though he was talking about the weather.

“What?!” You both spluttered.

Baekhyun shrugged. “Noona, Hyung, you should see your faces.” He giggled. “I’m only half kidding though.”

“Yeah, you are going to have to say more than that dude.” Minseok groaned.

Baekhyun smiled at both of you. “I don’t know about either of you, but if I had to take a wild guess - we all had a better than good time during hyung’s reward. I’m just not opposed to something like that happening again, obviously not a frequent thing, but yeah. I’m sure you are more than capable of taking charge in the bedroom noona but it was really fucking hot watching both of you and being told what to do. So uh, yeah, just saying I’m happy to leave that door open for a future session.”

“Baek, you can’t just say things like that as though it's normal conversation.” You replied.

“What made you decide to bring that up now of all times?” Minseok asked as you spoke.

“To answer noona - Is that a no to my idea then? Coz like, that’s also fine. To answer hyung - I was reminded of it when the two of you were hugging.”

Minseok shook his head at the younger man. “You’re fucking weird dude.” 

“You like it.” Baekhyun quipped.

“I don’t dislike it.” He agreed. “Look, I’m down as long as it doesn’t become weird. It was fun, it was deeply satisfying and it was hot, but not something I’d be willing to ruin our friendships over.” 

You finally found some words, not quite believing where the night had taken you. “I feel the same. So uh, I guess at such a time when we want to involve a third, we know who to call…”

“This cannot be my life.” Minseok shook his head in disbelief and pointed towards the door. “Can you two leave already so I don’t get sprung with any more headache inducing conversation topics?”

Baekhyun grabbed your hand and led you through the door. “Let’s go angel.”

You were content, more than content as you stepped across the threshold with Baekhyun, who was now your boyfriend, you supposed. You’d have to discuss labels later. You wanted to spend the entire night in his arms, and like him you did not care if that was while you watched movies, played games, talked, or expressed your feelings for each other in a much more physical manner. All you knew was you felt right, you felt loved and cherished and you felt like you were in a state of utter bliss. 

A/N: Thank you if you've stuck with me over the course of the past 7 years. I simply don't have the words to express my gratitude to everyone who made it to this point of my lil fic. Well it was supposed to be little. It was supposed to be 9 chapter of pwp and only take me a couple of months to write but then all of this happened. I grew as a writer through this fic and explored different aspects of what I could write. I'm proud of this fic and glad that it didn't become another one of those unfinished fics on the internet.

It would mean the world to me if you could leave a comment. I love you all.

[heywart]

੭୧ : Poxa Crush ׄ 🎤 ੭̠ kyungsoo x nayeon

🔍 : ꒰ indisponível para doação ꒱

📌 : ꒰ adotada por oshtape ꒱

🗓 : ꒰ 19 de abr. de 2024 ꒱

[dilxcc]

ordinary days ᡣ𐭩 doh kyungsoo

domestic fluff, living the best life with kyungsoo, hes so in love with you tbh, grammatical error

kyungsoo x reader!

a/n this was totally not inspired by his song. also, testing if it was just a new account thing or my fic really sucks and people dont read it 💀 this was also posted at @jonginbear

the soft humming of kyungsoo as he danced around in the kitchen, cooking to his heart's content. he was alone in your apartment while you were out at work. despite your absence, he still showed up at your apartment, wanting to try out a new recipe he had come up with last night.

it explained why his eyes has a light dark circle.

the clanking sounds that came from the kitchen utensils filled the quietness. it calmed his excited heart from bursting. not a while later, he finished up his cooking and started to wash the dishes.

it was always like this with kyungsoo. your house was always tidied up whenever he's around. he couldn't stand seeing how disoriented you are.

the soft click from the door perked his ears up. it was just in time that he had finished setting up the table. your nose immediately picked up the delicious smell coming from the kitchen. "hey," kyungsoo smiled, his wet hands were wiped clean on the apron that he has yet to take off. his cute dimples showing from smiling too hard.

"hey," you returned his smile. he walked up to you and kissed your cheeks. "what did you cook?" you asked softly, taking off your coat and threw it on the couch. "a new pasta recipe," he said proudly. "i made it more spicy for you," he said, pulling out the chair for you. you gratefully took a sit all the while watching him take off his apron.

kyungsoo sat across the table, ready to eat his newly made recipe.

after dinner, both of you sat on the couch, huddled up close to each other and feeling content. you lay your head on his chest, wanting to listen to his calm heartbeat. his arm were wrapped securely around your waist and he nuzzled his nose in your hair.

likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated <3

© dilxcc

[kcake555]

D.O cake 🍰

exo

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Rat Bastard - Part 11

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo 

Rating: M (Mature Smut)

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Sexual Tension, Idiots to Lovers, Mature Sexual Situations.

Tag: @ilovemyapopbaby

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

“Peanuts, Miss?”

In a blink of an eye it was over. 

The swirling, frantic moments inside of the hurricane, with the grime and cobwebs and 100 years of dirt covering every surface. The painful turned magical moments spent inside of that abandoned and run down storm shelter were all gone and you opened your eyes at the unwelcome intrusion; cutting off the vivid memories of the strength of those fingertips that left divots in the flesh of your soft thighs.

A shiny foil packet was left behind in the palm of your hand as her back retreated. That foil reflected the sunshine filtering through the lower third of your window that let in just enough warmth to heat your skin. The higher the plane’s altitude climbed, the further down you’d had to pull the shade; lest the light pink bruises show through this sheer top when the sunlight discovered them. Bruises that a hot mouth pulled into existence and needy teeth bit firmly into place, still peppered certain places on your neck; your chest; and much lower, over other hidden places on your body.

“Something to drink, darling?” Another overly friendly voice lilted into your ears and you inhaled through your nose as your lips pulled into a perfunctory smile, nodding your head and accepting the plastic cup and tiny square of a napkin decorated with the airline’s logo. A sleek silver cartoon fish. A barracuda which now that you really thought about it, had no business existing tens of thousands of feet up in the air. 

It was only a blink of an eye — the both of you inside of that hurricane. One blink and it was the last. It was the story of you and him. After the last raindrop fell and the songbirds emerged from their hiding spots, the first trilling notes from a ringing cell phone interrupted the last real stretch of peace and calm within his strong arms and with that phone call came the signal. The notice that the storm had passed. It was all over. Bags should be packed — don’t worry about cleaning up — resort staff were coming to take care of that. Drawers and surfaces, shelves and cabinets should all be checked for personal belongings you weren’t willing to lose forever; for neither of you would never, ever set foot in this place again. Not in your lifetimes. Not alone and not together. 

That phone call was the beginning of the end and you’d felt blindsided by just how swiftly everything moved once that momentum had been built.

A single call, just one blink. You felt the urge for another; two or three quick ones. You blinked out the blinding sunlight that slipped under the window shade. You slowed a stuttered breath through your nostrils. A futile attempt to command it, but you gave in at once and blinked again. Then once more to clear the slippery and blushing images that pushed against your heart. And once more for the noncommittal questions whispered against your wet lips. 

“What airport are you flying into?”

“How long is your layover?”

“What time do you land?”

You were probably being dramatic. It was something you were prone to, but you had to blink quicker to dispel the wetness that blurred your vision and after the telltale heaviness of the moisture that accumulated along your lash line grew to dangerous volumes you had to blot away the wetness with the barracuda. It came away damp; probably grateful for any moisture a fish could get 35,000 feet up in the air. 

You inhaled another breath, this one going in deeper and coming out slower with just a hint of staccato stutter on the exhale as your lungs fully gave into the ridiculousness of the mood you were feeling right now. You were painfully aware of the absurdity. Any casual observer might think you’d lost out on something precious. The single tear that managed to slip by the barracuda might make them think you weren’t a woman who’d not only just begun a promising and beautiful relationship with someone strong, handsome, and talented in ways you could only dream of being. Someone who also, somehow, by some twist of fate, happened to find you just lovely enough to be worthy of his affection and his time. 

Somewhere under the surface you felt it; familiar old habits of yours that liked to creep up at the worst times. Old tricks of your mind that whispered mean things to you about how very not special you were; how currently unemployed you were; how untalented and unspectacular you really were despite the airs you liked to put on, what a dead weight you would be on his life and what if — what if without the actual life or death danger keeping that man trapped by your side; without the heavy steel door and the cement block walls and the maddening loneliness, boredom, and desperation that warped his opinion of you from deranged harpie to good enough for some easy sex — what if he changed his mind when he got good look at you. What if it had all been an illusion and the spark in his eyes fizzled with the first real look at you in the harsh lighting of the real world. Your next inhale was noisier. Your nose was stuffed up and the tiny napkin wasn’t much help anymore.

Between the crack of the seats of the row in front of you, a tiny eyeball pulled wide and stared at you. A small voice gasped in surprise and you heard a high pitched voice ask, “Mommy, why is that lady crying?” Much too young and curious to know any better and definitely too young to understand volume control, the question hung hard and heavy in the air around your seat row. The child’s mother gasped in horror and you caught her eyes for a split second through the crack. The old man across the aisle to your left visibly stiffened and turned, compelled to look at you, just enough to gawk, just enough to quickly look away the moment your red rimmed eyes met his. The awkwardness grew with the heat that crept up your cheeks and no amount of the child’s mother’s harshly whispered ���Shhh — It’s not polite to stare” could extinguish it. 

How could you even begin to answer such a question? ‘Sorry little one. I haven’t had any terrible tragedy befall me. I didn’t lose a pet or break my favorite toy. I didn’t fall down and skin my knee or have someone push me on the playground and call me stinky. I’m just afraid that the brand new boyfriend that I’ve tricked into a relationship that nobody in my life knows about — none of my friends, none of his friends, not even our closest best friends who know everything about everything — nobody knows about — he could cut and run so easily and we wouldn’t even have to make a sentimentally sad instagram post about how we will be moving our separate ways  — that I might as well have stockholm-ed into liking me — that probably only even came to like me because we were trapped together in a last-woman-on-Earth type situation and I’m terrified he’s going to find out real fucking soon that this Earth is full of many, many women who are all far superior to me.’

There was no need for any actual answers to the child’s question because the captain was speaking through the speaker overhead. Some garbled message that had the right rhythm and cadence to get the flight attendants moving. Seat backs were uprighted. Tray tables were latched. You recognized the shift. This flight was nearing its end just as your time in the storm shelter had come to an end. Soon you’d find yourself back at your apartment, back in your same old bedroom with your same old problems and same old you. 

You wished you could go back to that island, back to the eye of that storm in that locked-up cement-walled shelter where he had no choice but to want you and to love you with as much desperation as you felt for him.

All through the airport as you waited for your connecting flight. As you reached the soil of your home country and your cell phone came back to life, pinging and beeping with a week’s worth of notifications from people who you knew and who cared about you. Messages from best friends who wondered about your whereabouts; wondered about the odd silence they’d seen from you online. You had disappeared to them all; except for one single person. At least you had something to occupy your mind with; recounting the tale of your near death experience with a category 5 hurricane; your vacation turned sour. 

You couldn't quite bring it in yourself to discuss him.

You weren’t sure why. 

He felt like a bubble. Fragile and beautiful and if you touched him with your filthy hands he would pop and vanish.

You’d get back home and take a few moments to catch your breath and you’d get him on the phone and talk with him about how you both would handle the fallout of this.

And there was bound to be some. Lines had been drawn. Rifts had grown between groups of friends who all took your side, save for one or two of his long time friends who didn’t doubt him for a second. 

But your words had held so much power against him, you were completely convinced he was in the wrong after all , and you recognized that you’d need to come clean very soon if this messy new relationship was going to go anywhere at all.

It was scary. The more you dwelled on it while sitting on your bed in the comfort and privacy of your own home now, the more humiliated you felt about the whole thing.

Claire, the one who so vehemently apologized for her role in setting you both up on that date. Claire, your kind, sweet, well-meaning friend. The one who took your side completely in your endeavors to pull the wool clear of everyone’s eyes so they could see him for what he really was, a liar, a snake. You had to talk to Claire first, just the two of you, alone. Before she heard about this from anyone else. She’d also been a victim of you too, just as Kyungsoo had been. You needed her to understand the truth about what you had done. You needed her forgiveness. 

Your thumb ran lightly over the string of waiting text messages from her. She had been searching for you, blaming herself for sending you on that silly retreat and lamenting on the timing of it all when she found out a storm had been heading to that very island resort where you were sure to have been trapped. 

You clicked on her name and typed out a quick string of words. Explaining how first and foremost you were alive and well. Apologizing for your oversight with not realizing you’d need an international SIM card to keep your phone alive while you were gone and giving the briefest run-down of the hurricane, outstanding efforts by the resort staff to keep you safe and as comfortable as possible given the circumstances, and you asked if she was available for a phone call — being extremely careful not to mention, at any point in your messages, the presence of another human in this entire recap, a human man who you were both quite familiar with, as his name was frequently the subject of many, many of your conversations with Claire in the past. 

Claire was a responsible adult with a daytime job and she was too busy for a talk now. She also sounded excited to share some gossip with you about something else that had transpired while you were away and so your long list of confessions to the women would have to wait. 

You stared down at your phone. Having to live without it for a solid week seemed to have broken you of some of your bad habits related to the thing and you left it behind on your kitchen table as you busied yourself with unpacking your bags. You started a load of laundry, put back bits and things you never even got to use and carelessly tossed that unopened big box of condoms on your bed.

You should throw them away. 

They were rather expensive. 

Again, your mind drifted to him. 

A glance toward the clock told you that based on the vague travel schedule he’d told you about, he would have landed by now. He would have made his way through the airport, gotten a ride to his office as he said he had some work to do before he would finally be able to go back home and lay down in his own bed. 

You’d dreamed of such a thing while trapped away in that shelter — laying down in your own bed. 

Now the stupid thing looked too big, too unoccupied, too cold, and too empty for you to want anything to do with it. You had a feeling the second you laid down in it your mind would be flooded with too many memories of him to be able to find comfort in anything that wasn’t his arms. 

Oh, what a damned fool you had become. He’d turned you into an idiot. You couldn’t live without him now. You’d be destroyed when he finally wised up and came to his senses.

The thoughts of him had your eyes searching for your phone as a thought suddenly dawned on you. A memory really, from the first quiet minutes after that phone call had arrived. Before either of you pushed yourselves up on your legs, pulled your clothing back onto your bodies and began the painful task of gathering up every one of your belongings to say goodbye.

It was in those first minutes though when Kyungsoo had reached his hands down to pull at the straps of his duffel bag and he lifted the whole thing onto his bare thighs, digging and digging until he pulled out a ball-point pen. As the memories made their way into your mind, you made your way into your bathroom, lifting your top up, pushing at the gauze-like fabric until you found it.  You stood in front of the mirror, touching with gentle fingertips over the marks he’d made on you. You had been giggling. It made the pen marks stutter in their journey and you even pushed with protesting fingertips against his hands as made his first tickling passes over your skin with the pen.  

“Shhh, stop,” he said with his giggling mouth and the pen kept moving over your skin until you’d settled down enough to just let him do whatever it was he was doing to you. 

There, written backwards in blue ink, high up on your rib cage, below where your breast naturally fell was a phone number. Of course he’d have to have given it to you somehow. You could make out most of it as your mind quickly spun the numbers around so you could understand them all. This was Kyungsoo’s phone number. Your Kyungsoo. 

The numbers on the clock, reflected backwards in the bathroom mirror with the help of some quick time zone math, told you it had been 11 hours since you’d last seen him at the airport. You’d both had several hours of travel time, plus he had the stop at the office to deal with whatever next trip he had to iron out details for. One of his clients, some billionaire’s daughter, had booked him for a long trip on a yacht in the middle of the Mediterranean and that was coming up very soon. Soon. like tomorrow. This revelation had set a heavy stone down in the pit of your stomach. 

You’d paid enough attention to the calendar to know that the next time you would see him might not be until Sam and Mari, your mutual friends’ wedding.

Your face had betrayed your disappointment. He pulled your frowning mouth into his lips again and again, promising you that he didn’t always go out of the country for work — that despite the awful schedule he had to keep, it was usually within driving distance of each other. 

Pushing the memory of that disappointment away you left the bathroom to find your phone. You’d made it to the kitchen table when you heard a faint buzzing echoing through the wood. 

You were getting a phone call and it was from a phone number that was not saved in your contacts. You couldn't tell how many times this person had called, nor did you know how many rings had rung, but now that you were looking at it, the number was familiar. You’d just spent the last 10 minutes dreamily running your fingertips from the tips of the 1s down to their pointed bottoms; running rings around the 0s and snaking your pinky finger along the shape of the 9s and the 5s. There was a burst of flutters inside of your belly. Kyungsoo was calling you. 

You swiped to answer before the call was lost and you held the phone up to your ear, pausing to keep your breath from catching in your throat and to keep the stutter of excitement out of your voice. 

You managed a casual ‘Hello?’ as a greeting but what you heard on the other end of the line was a stretch of such quiet that it sent a jolt of worry through you. Perhaps you’d missed his call. You pulled the phone down to check and the call was indeed still connected. You brought the phone back up to your ear and inhaled once more, ready to say ‘hello’ again when you heard the slightest exhale inside your phone’s speaker. 

“Hi.” 

It was him. It was Kyungsoo. 

You didn't even feel your face move into the wide smile that pushed your cheeks up but you were definitely smiling when you responded to his tiny greeting with your own even smaller response; even softer than his was. 

“Hi,” you whispered. 

He didn’t say anything. You couldn’t even hear him breathing, not after that first exhale. 

You had to hold your breath to get control over yourself. You felt like a lovesick teenager and if you hadn’t been tethered to reality with this cell phone stuck to your face, desperate to catch any little sound he might make, you might have thrown yourself down onto your living room floor and screamed at the top of your lungs. 

After a few deep breaths it began to feel as if neither one of you would say anything at all and after enough time passed for it to become quite ridiculous you hummed out a small questioning sound — sort of a preamble as you warmed up your voice for what? You had no idea. Still you eked out a little ‘umm,’ at the same time as you heard the sound of him lightly clearing his throat and inhaling against the phone speaker to speak.

“H-how was—’’ his attempt was quickly and not so smoothly aborted with a small groan. You closed your eyes and you could picture his eyes closing up as he lifted a hand to lay over his forehead. You could practically see the pink in his cheeks from here. 

“Sorry,” he exhaled out through his lips, you heard the air, “why am I so nervous?” The last question was mumbled to himself, but it was out loud enough for you to hear it. 

It brought out a stifled half-giggle from the back of your throat. 

“Why are you nervous, Kyungsoo?” You agreed with your question. Every little bit of the grumpy mood from earlier vanished in an instant with his voice in your ear like this. You laid down on your sofa with your legs propped up over the arm and swung your feet up and down absentmindedly, cradling your phone up to your ear as it was the most precious thing in the world as you ran a hand over your belly, up higher over your ribcage where you’d been tracing his phone number in the mirror mere moments before.

“Right? Why am I? I’ve been with you all week. I was just with you this morning. What is this?”  He laughed once; a hopeless sort of laugh from deep inside of his chest and you hummed into the line, somehow understanding this feeling that must have been surging through him. 

“It’s,” you began, biting down on your bottom lip once before finishing your thought, “it’s different…having you in my ear like this.” 

“Different,” he said softly, his voice lifting just a tiny bit at the end of the word. Less of a questioning sound, but more of his shaky control giving into madness a little. “Different. It’s different. You sound—” 

You listened closely but his words stopped coming. However you sounded to him, he wasn’t ready to talk any more about it. He let out a tiny groan and cleared his throat, inhaling again with more purpose you heard the man rein it in suddenly. 

“Tell me something. Anything. What did you—” a quick exhale left, “What did you do first when you got home?”

“Umm,” you lifted your eyes toward your ceiling, not seeing but recalling your arrival at your apartment. “I brought my luggage in and I unpacked, no, first I had to text Claire and tell her about my trip and let her know that I wasn’t dead at the bottom of the ocean, you know, that sort of thing. She was too busy to talk, though, so I didn’t get a chance to get into … too many details.” You heard the soft hum from the back of his throat. 

He was just listening without asking questions and without interrupting so you kept going. 

“Then, well, I went to my bedroom to unpack my bag. So, I put everything away. Laundry — makeup and …stuff. I was about to change, well, actually, not change because I then remembered, this morning…you and your pen — I was about to put your phone number into my phone, but then you called me before I could do that and, well, now I’m talking to you on the phone and obviously I can’t concentrate on doing anything else, because m-my boyf— umm — because, Kyungsoo called me.” 

Admittedly, you had been rambling. You paused your rapid fire recap of what all had transpired once you’d walked through your front door for some sort of response from him, but also to catch your breath and calm your nerves. 

What came was a long drawn out exhale mixed with the low notes of a groan. His lungs had been full. The exhale wandered over your ears for a long while. 

“I miss you,” he breathed out through the tail end of that groan.

He missed you. 

Your boyfriend missed you.

His abrupt confession stopped you mid thought and you froze with whatever else you were about to say trapped inside of your throat. All that came out, after just a little bit of shock wore off was the softest question for him. 

“You do?” 

He didn't answer. Instead, he asked you another question. 

“Do you want to come over and help me pack for my trip tomorrow?” As far as flimsy excuses went, this one was paper thin. If he really did need help packing, you would be no help. If anything you’d be an obstacle to productivity. 

You must have answered him. A small sound came out of you that sounded like an ‘mhmm.’

“Hmm? I’ll pick you up?” He added this to sweeten the deal and you could feel yourself nodding your head in response even though he couldn't see you. His voice right now…that little hum from his throat.  He practically whispered these words right between your legs

“Yeah. Okay,” you said while still nodding and you swung your legs down off of the arm of your sofa, landing them squarely in front of you on your carpeted floor. 

You had to shower. You were still covered in gross public airport travel germs and you had definitely looked cuter this morning when you’d last seen him. Your hair felt a little grimy and there were things you needed to scrub off, like the marks he’d made on your body this morning with his pen. The marks he’d made with his mouth, well those wouldn’t budge even with some soap and a loofa. 

“Text me your address.” Something had changed deep down inside of you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d jump if a man told you to jump like this. You couldn't recall every being this agreeable with any of your exes. But you were humming in agreement. Swiping and typing across your phone screen to send him your address the second he’d asked for it. You were nodding your head, leaping to your feet to rush to your closet to pick out something to wear that made you feel beautiful. 

“Umm…give me an hour to get ready?”

You’d expected his easy agreement to your extremely normal request. 

Instead you got a tiny scoff and some ridiculous negotiation tactics.

“Thirty minutes.” His voice echoed out of the little speaker of your cell phone that sat on the counter of your tiny bathroom, “I miss you.” There was a whining tone that you seldom heard from him. You noticed he tended to do this when he really, really wanted you to give into him. 

You pulled the toothbrush out of your mouth so he could understand your argument, ignoring the insane butterflies that you felt moving all through your chest.

“Forty-five minutes, Kyungsoo. I need to shower. I’ve been traveling.” You heard a concerning sound on the other side of this call. The beep that a car might make as it was being unlocked. 

“Twenty minutes.” A car door closed. An engine started up. “I miss you,” he said again, as if this alone was the justification for him to do anything at all.  

“Twenty?!” Much of the exasperation you were going for was drowned out by your own laughter. “That is not how you negotiate.”

“You are going in the wrong direction,” you released a whining complaint that no doubt sounded out through the speakers of his car.  

He wasn't responding. All you could hear was the occasional sound of an engine accelerating or a turn signal ticking. 

You sighed out your defeat, closing your eyes into it. 

“If I'm still in the shower when you get here, the door code is my birthday. If you can figure that out… make yourself at home, I guess.” You knew for a fact that you’d never told him. You did however have a very active social media life and posted some sort of account of your birthday celebration every year. The year might stump him but he deserved to suffer just a little bit for being so impatient. 

When the active phone call vanished, you could see a few notifications left behind on your phone screen. A few responses to some text messages from your many relieved friends, but most tellingly, two other missed calls from that same phone number whose owner was now quickly on his way over to your house. Missed calls all made within the same short time while you were in here running your fingertips lovingly over those numbers written into your ribs, he was growing more and more frustrated and desperate. 

You felt just a little bit silly now. All of those insecurities from hours ago; the tears on the airplane; the ridiculously misread loss of something precious just because you no longer had him trapped inside of some cement walls and steel doors with nowhere else to go. 

Even with the door wide open, it seems he had nowhere else he wanted to go. 

You’d already stripped off the day’s clothes and started the water in the shower to heat up when you’d shouted out those last few words into the phone over the sound of the running water. 

You heard some bits of protestations from him a few seconds before you hung up the call and turned to jump into the shower. The water wasn’t quite warm enough but you soldiered through it, lathering, scrubbing, and sudsing yourself all over just about as quickly as you’ve ever done so and every few minutes you’d dissolve into amused giggles at the nerve of this man. 

About halfway through your shower the water had finally reached the perfect temperature to wash away all of the grime and grit from the long day. The warm water flowed over your face, washing away all of your earlier tears and worries and insecurities and you even found the messy scribbles made in blue ink no match for some nice smelling soap and a good scrubbing. You found yourself taking your time just a little bit. Scraping at your scalp thoroughly and even washing your hair again to make sure to get every last bit of the you from yesterday off. 

It felt like a new beginning. 

You’d quite purposefully lost track of time, going through great lengths to ignore the nagging feeling inside of your chest that asked silly questions like whether or not he was able to figure out the combination to get through your front door, or if you’d find him pouting outside, leaned up against the locked doorway having been defeated by those mysterious six digits. Somewhere in the middle of your final rinses you could have sworn you heard a sound. Perhaps the familiar of the same kinds of door locks all of these units had. Maybe even the sound of a door opening and closing. 

You couldn't be sure though.

It might just be a neighbor coming home from work. 

After your shower you took care of the bare minimum to get out of this bathroom. Underwear and a bra. Tossing a dress over your head and pulling it roughly down into place to cover your ass and thighs. A quick pass of a comb through your wet hair; you’d blow dry it later. A speedy and haphazard application of some lightly tinted moisturizer on your face, ignoring the other bottles with the many steps of your usual skincare regimen. The makeup was mostly forgotten. This half assed attempt would have to do. You were practically vibrating with curiosity. 

If he was here, you thought maybe you might find him sitting on your sofa in the living room. Perhaps he’d pull up a stool at your kitchen counter, one leg crossed over the other with a cold beer from your fridge in front of him as he flipped through the newest L.L. Bean catalogue, one of the ones that came relentlessly because you’d once bought a raincoat as a gift for your father six years ago, that you’d brought in from the mailbox on the first floor of this on your way in. 

What you hadn’t expected, and what your reaction gave away with the startled gasp that erupted from your chest the moment you opened your bathroom door, was to find Doh Kyungsoo sitting on the foot of your bed — a black backwards ball cap sitting on top of his head — a danger you had not once prepared for was how incredibly attractive this man would look wearing a backwards ball cap. This had to be some sort of a trick, right? His sock covered feet sat flat on the floor, his knees, in casual jeans, parted casually in front of him and his biceps popped below the short sleeves of his black t-shirt from where he leaned back on both arms. His posture looked supremely comfortable in your own home that he had never ever stepped foot in — in your very own bed that he had never ever slept in. 

You recovered from the shock as best you could, but inside of your chest you could feel your heart racing. You held your breath for a moment, blinking away the surprise from your face as you slowed yourself down and simply took in the look of him. Your gaze made it back up to the top of his head after the languid journey you took to get here and when you caught his eyes, he moved a little, lolling his head over to the side as he took a slow breath of oxygen deep into his lungs and closed his eyes up, biting down on his bottom lip briefly before he exhaled the breath through his parted lips. He was shaking his head back and forth, his eyes still closed up tight and after a few moments he balanced on his left arm, the impressive muscles working overtime now, lifting his right side to rub a hand quite roughly over his face. 

You didn’t pry. He seemed to be coming to terms with something and if there was one thing you knew was that if you were sitting right where he was; having just given so very much away with his recent, rather desperate and needy, and oh so telling behavior; sitting right smack in the middle of some sort of revelation as he seemed to be, you wouldn’t appreciate someone asking you the one, two, three, four, five — or so questions that you felt needed immediate answering. 

You could only give him so much though. You noticed your big, rather expensive box of condoms that once sat where he now sat was nowhere to be found. He followed your wandering eyes as you zeroed in on the wastebasket that sat beside your dresser between your floor length mirror. You could make out the edge of the black box there in the trash. 

When your attention returned to his perch you caught the slightest micro expression on his face. A tiny shrug with only his lips and eyes. Your own face lifted more dramatically. Definitely not micro. You wore a severe question on your eyebrows and you angled your face to really sell the sass that surged through you. That this man sauntered into your door and threw away your things…

“I cleaned up a bit,” he mumbled flatly, lifting his eyes to break the eye contact now, the corners of his lips pulling into the slightest grin, “threw out some trash.” 

“Kyungsoo, those were expensive. I could have saved them—”  As soon as it came out it felt like the wrong thing to say. You pulled your lips together tightly when his eyes flew over to you, wide at first, then slowly narrowing as his brows furrowed, his expression running the gamut of several competing emotions all at once before he opened his mouth to speak, picking the safest conclusion that his heart could take.

”Do you want me to wear a condom? But, before you said—”

You lifted both hands, taking the three steps it took to close the distance between you both as you shook your head back and forth; opening your mouth to explain yourself, “I was going to give them to my friends.” 

“Single friends. For them to use with other people.” You reached for him with both hands, your palms landing over his cheeks. He was warm. His skin was smooth. Your first soft touches of his skin had his eyes closing up as he leaned his head back, his face begging you down to him like he was the sunflower and you were the sunlight. You’d stepped in close enough to land between his parted knees and in one fluid motion his arms reached for you, wrapping tightly around you, high up around your waist with his left, his right palm landing over the back of your upper thigh, just below the short skirt of this dress. 

You were already moving into him with the words of reassurance you gave him. The lean into his lips came as naturally as the promises you gave him and that first kiss, after nearly 12 hours of missing him, had you trembling and gasping when you pulled away from his kiss, just  enough to speak again. His mouth felt so needy. His hands trembled when they moved over you and gripped you so tightly wherever they paused; as if the time apart might have been even harder on him than it was on you; as if this had been all he could think about for hours now.

“But I don't need to. We can just throw them away and be done with it.” The words came out slower and stuttered a bit. He had moved to kiss along your neck and the deep breaths he took from just below your ear heated your skin, sending goosebumps down your spine. He came back again and again, breathing you in deeply; moaning in response to your scent filling his nose; no doubt getting a face full of your still damp hair but not minding it one bit with the way his mouth opened and he bit you on your neck, and again on your shoulder. 

“They’d probably demand to know who I was dating and I don't know if we should tell anyone else about us before we tell Claire—” you gasped when he bit you again, harder this time. At the same time he pulled you into him — strong hands on the backs of your knees. Pulling you onto his lap, straddling his waist here on your bed. Your sweet little summer dress moved out of the way too easily and you hissed to feel the scratchiness of his jeans against the softness of your inner thighs. 

“Wait, Claire doesn’t know?” He asked from somewhere nestled up against your breast, sounding genuinely surprised to find this out. When he’d pulled his face back up to ask you the question you felt the chilly air blowing over your wet nipple that he’d just been sucking on. You didn't even know when he’d pulled the straps of your dress and your bra off your shoulders. 

You shook your head to answer him, not quite committing to this conversation anymore. He should learn to pick between wanting to fuck you or wanting to have an important conversation because you simply could not multitask like this. Your skin felt on fire. There simply wasn’t enough energy for the critical thinking part of your brain.

You moved your hips over his lap again, feeling the definite arousal below the jeans but unable to get the right feeling with the belt, the zipper, the thick and very scratchy fabric. You had to fix this. You pushed yourself away from him and up onto your feet, quickly lifting your summer dress from the bottom up and over your head in a single motion. You did the same with the bra and panties while also reaching a free hand around the back of his head to grip that hat. It came off easily, freeing his clean black hair. It flew so easily with a little flick of your wrist. Kyungsoo was moving too, his hands making quick work of his shirt; freeing himself of the belt, the button, the zipper, pushing everything down and kicking it all away. 

“Well, when will you tell her?” It was the secrecy that was bothering him. You knew he didn’t like that part. He fell backwards onto your bed, completely naked except for the black socks that still covered his feet. 

The subject matter of this conversation felt vaguely important, but the sight of him still wearing his socks had you giggling and you reached for his feet, gripping the socks and pulling them off as you tossed them away onto the floor behind you at the same time as you made the journey up and over him. 

The dissonance in your mind couldn’t process his words, not really. You only half registered his important question while processing the way it felt for his warm smooth skin slipping against yours like this. The fact that he was still trying to have this conversation was insane. You’d made your way up to straddle over his waist, lifting your hips as you slid up the length of his hardness. You moved up to the tip of him, then switched directions and moved back down again, throwing your head back from the pleasure of feeling him slipping between your legs, sliding within your wetness, bumping and rubbing against your sensitive center. You both felt too much ready for this to last very long. 

His eyes had drifted closed. His hands were digging into your thighs, fingers leaving red marks. His mouth had fallen open with whatever silly topics he wanted to bring up now. Now, of all times, right now?

Those words were suspended somewhere within his throat and you moved over him again, watching the changes his face went through as you did it. 

“Will you give me some time to tell her? I have to do it right.” If he wanted to keep bringing it up, you’d oblige him. “Carefully.”

His eyes didn’t open with your question and he pulled his mouth closed and swallowed once, opening his mouth again, half closing again before breathing out his response. “D-Don’t,” his chest was heaving up and down and you lifted your hips again, giving just a little more pressure against the length of him with your journey. He hissed and bared his teeth. 

“Don't what, baby? Don't do this?” You moved over him again, lifting your hips, letting the tip of him slip inside of you for just a second before moving lower, letting the angle slip and he popped back out of place, slipping out of you. Losing that connection you both so desperately wanted. 

The grip of his hands grew tighter and you heard the smallest whispered ‘fuck’ escape from his lips.

“Don't ask me…

I’ll give you anything you want right now. 

W-What? 

Time? 

Sure. Take all the time you want — just,” that tight grip he held your thighs with shifted and he sat up against you, he pushed hard against the hold you kept over him with your hips in place and he wrapped a very strong left arm around your waist and squeezed too tight, too unexpectedly tight. You ached from the roughness he treated you with. “Just—” he whispered once more.

“—fuck me,” he said this so close to your face you felt his hot breath fanning over your lips. 

His black eyes were no longer closed. He was no longer playing along with this game you were playing. His face pulled back again so he could look into your eyes while he moved his right hand between your bodies. He gripped his dick and paired with the lifting of your body you felt the tip of him slip inside of you. You were released and you sunk down onto his lap. He pushed his hips up to fill you completely in a swift, shocking motion. It took your breath and your mind away from you and you froze, gasping with your mouth open; inundated and overwhelmed. 

Kyungsoo leaned his face into yours again, leaning with hot lips and his open mouth and pulled your tongue into his mouth, sucking you into him, wrapping himself tightly around you and guiding your rhythm over him until he became too overcome to keep up the frenzy and let go just enough, just enough. 

Every inch of your skin felt hot and clammy, especially the parts that touched his skin, and there was so very much of his skin touching yours. The sweat didn’t belong entirely to you and he was glistening with wet when he fell back onto the bed; chest heaving with labored breaths that matched your own and you felt it all over; that desperation for the release that was there — was just there, you could feel it, you could taste it. You sought it out right there on top of him and the glimpses you took of his face before you had to close your eyes— oh, he was watching you with his ravenous eyes. He’d been starving for hours for this. He watched you do it as long as he could stand; until he himself could stand no more. 

You’d made some attempt to move. You were hot and damp, sticky and wet — and yet — you felt so outside of yourself that the moment his soft fingertips reached up to lightly graze over the bare skin just below your belly button, slipping those fingertips around with a purposeful touch on your hip; any desire to escape this discomfort fell to the back of your mind. 

Kyungsoo sat up then, reaching for you, pulling you down over his skin and you simply fell. At some point he’d slipped out from inside of you. At some point there was a mess that was wicked away by the plush fabric of the bedspread below both of your bodies. His hands moved like feathers over your skin and you laid with him on this bed, existing in this moment as the ceiling fan slowly began to cool your skin enough for some of the dampness to evaporate, cooling your shoulder, your hip, your bare leg. He was still touching your skin, looking at your face with warm eyes and leaning in for slow, languid kisses. Slow and delicate enough for your lips and his lips to mold together, sticking together with how hesitant he was to escape your mouth. 

It must have been ages — this kiss with no end. 

You and him — with no end.

He kissed you until the chill began to set in and your skin erupted in goosebumps. He wrapped you up in his arms and his legs and he kissed you some more. Through the giggles and through the silliness that grew as gradually as this unbelievable love, starting deep down inside somewhere, growing, and building until the first few giggles broke free from your mouth, quickly met with his own giggles that made your teeth bump together. 

It was your stomach that finally betrayed you. The loud growling noise echoed out and you both looked down at the interruption before you sought out his eyes that looked into your face with a furrow of concern. 

“You didn’t eat dinner?” 

You frowned your lips down and gave the smallest head shake. His eyes roamed over your face and your frown deepened further. 

“Lunch?” He asked. You bit down on your lip and shook your head again. You’d actually completely forgotten that food existed until this very moment when suddenly it was all you could think about. 

“Oh my god,” he was sitting up. He was pushing himself up onto two shaky legs as he looked around your floor for something to deal with the mess he’d suddenly noticed was all over his belly. His hands were extended away from his body and he spun a little bit, giving you a view of the cutest, perkiest ass ever; and he seemed to be having trouble deciding what his next move would be. 

“Shower.” He said suddenly, taking several wide set and careful steps away from your bed and toward your bathroom. He’d nearly made it into the bathroom when you heard his fingers snapping, “Come on, shower,” he repeated. You hadn’t realized he was talking to you too but you pushed yourself off the bed, reaching for the entirety of your bedspread and pulling it off so you wouldn't forget about this giant wet spot and accidentally sleep in it tonight. 

You heard the water running and you quickly made your way into the bathroom just as he was stepping inside of the water. 

Inside of the water, he was warm. He was lovely and he was beautiful as he cleaned up using your soap and shampoo. You didn’t think he had to wash his hair, it had been so clean already but you followed him lead and did the same, spinning around to take turns under the stream when it was time for a rinse. 

The shower, like the sex had served its purpose and you emerged from both feeling like a new person. As you toweled off and began to pull on another pair of clean underwear you had a curiosity that needed satisfying. 

“How many times did you have to try the door code?” 

Kyungsoo was running your hairbrush through his hair and he caught your reflection in the mirror. 

“Just once. Got it right away.” He said with an air of confidence that you didn't quite buy. You’d never even mentioned your birthday to him. You watched his profile as he stared at himself in the mirror, long after his hair was combed and he was nearly completely dressed save for the socks which you had tossed pretty far— those might take some searching to find. 

“How did you find out my birthdate?” 

He swallowed and he blinked. Then he looked away from you and you made a whining sound, poking him in the ribs a few times to get him to spill it.

“Umm…I found out from Claire—” he started to speak. The moment her name was on his lips, your eyes went wide and you just reacted.

“No, Kyungsoo. Claire doesn't know about us. I need to be the one to tell her, Kyungsoo. I need to say it myself. I have to ask her forgiveness for all the trouble I caused and I have to be the one to tell her first. She can't find out from anyone else -- you don’t know her like I know her, Doh Kyungsoo!” Your panic was evident in your voice. You were speaking fast and your voice was high-pitched and loud. 

He actually flinched three times as you were berating him and his jaw clenched and set hard upon the last usage of his name; his entire name. 

“Excuse me, ma’am—” Kyungsoo raised his voice suddenly. Not shouting but matching your volume quite well, his arms were crossed over his chest and he was looking at you with wide eyes and a seriously admonishing expression on his face. 

You stopped the diatribe abruptly, standing in front of him with your mouth open from the panic that was still surging through you. How would you ever make this up to her? She was your absolute dearest friend and she was very sensitive to things like this. Your eyes roamed over the scene in front of you, focusing on the light switch briefly as you tried to think of something that might fix this. 

Did he seriously call her to ask for your birthday as if that wouldn't raise all of the red flags in the world? One time you’d gone out to get food with friends and you forgot to hit send on her invitation message. She thought you purposefully left her out and didn't speak to you for a month. This was so, so, so much worse. 

You heard a loud snapping noise and it pulled your attention away from the doorway of this bathroom and over to the sudden sound and movement happening in front of your face. It was him. This troublemaker.

“Hey. Princess.” his eyes were wider now, his voice full of sarcasm. he definitely used this word as a pejorative. Filled with that achingly familiar sarcasm that he used to use before — before falling in love with you, before making you fall in love with him, before acting all sweet as shit, before fucking you dizzy and promising to make you something to eat, before pulling you into this bathroom to drop this bomb on you. 

Princess? Really? Was this happening again?

”What?” You didn't want to be answering to this, but he had definitely captured your attention. His head was shaking back and forth quickly and he still had his hand raised from all the snapping to get you to look at him. Did he think you were some sort of a wild animal that needed to be lured?

”I wasn’t finished talking. You asked me how I found out about your birthday. I said—”

”You asked Claire for it.” The defeat was setting in now. It felt hopeless. She would take a year to forgive you, for sure. 

”I said,” he spoke clearer, “I got it from Claire — ‘sssss instagram post from your birthday last year or I would have said that if you hadn’t rudely interrupted me.”

You released the breath you had been holding and you closed your eyes up as the relief surged through you. You placed a hand on your chest as you felt your heart beat beginning to settle down again.

He gave you a few moments of just breathing before he spoke again. 

“When will you tell her?” 

This pulled your attention back on him and away from your own biofeedback session to settle your insides down. You really were starting to feel irrational from the hunger. 

“I’ll tell her soon,” you promised vaguely as you made your way through your home to the kitchen, opened the cabinet and pulled out a jar of nuts.

“Yeah, but when? I understand that you need to tell your friend alone but I don't like us being a secret. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You just said, I could have all the time I wanted,” you said, chewing on a handful of nuts in a very unladylike fashion straight from the palm of your hand; a single index finger, you pointed behind you toward your bedroom to remind him what you both had just been doing.

Kyungsoo shook his head once, on his face a very real expression of confusion. “When did I say that?” 

“Just a while ago,” you said with a shrug. His eyes moved from your face, over to where you pointed and then further around the room you both stood in. Slowly, you watched his face change as the edges of the memory came back to him. He opened his mouth very slightly and his eyebrows furrowed. Then he leaned his face forward toward you and mumbled through clenched teeth. 

“While we were fucking? Did I promise you something while my dick was inside of you—-oh,” he had a grimace on his face, “oh, no, no —“ his hands were waving lightly, “no, baby, no. That doesn’t count. That’s not a real promise. That was not me.” A hand laid over his chest. 

That same hand moved down to cup over his crotch. “That was him.” His penis. The troublemaker, who, it seemed, was somehow absolved from fulfilling promises simply by the nature of existence. 

Nonsense. 

You looked at his face without responding with words. You just blinked, slow and steadily until his grin flattened and he pouted out his bottom lip. 

“What about when you said you needed me to help you pack for your trip? Was that just him talking?”

“No, that is true,” he said, his eyes down on your hand as you shoved another small palmful of nuts into your mouth. You hadn’t quite gotten them all and he leaned forward and captured the two remaining bits with his parted lips, using the same technique as you. Diving right in like a horse with a sack of feed. 

“I do need to pack. I did miss you.” He was chewing as he talked, steering your hand holding the jar of nuts to tip it over and pour some more out. 

“I was spiraling all day. Like, nothing else mattered. Nothing could fix it. And when I finally fell apart and called you and then you didn’t answer—I was…not handling it…well. I wanted to go back. It felt like…something had ended.”

“I cried on the airplane,” you confessed quietly and his eyes widened marginally; his empathy and the emotions attached evident in the downward curve of his eyebrows and his eyes searched over your entire face as you spoke. “Some little kid pointed it out, very loudly, and then everyone was looking at me and that made me cry even harder.”

The little frown on his lips turned deeper. “You missed me that much?” He’d taken the can out of your hand and placed it on the countertop behind you, using that motion to wrap his arms around you, fully enclosing you in a tight embrace.

“No. I missed the spiders,” you mumbled from within the warmth and security of his arms. The words were muffled by his chest muscles and your little attempt at brevity brought out a chuckle from somewhere in his chest. His arms rubbed slow circles over your back. He was everything you needed and wanted.

“Of course, it was you. I missed you.” You had to say it to him. He was so open and so lovely with you, you needed him to know how deep your love ran. He was lovely. He was warm and comforting and you could trust him with your heart. You knew it as an irrefutable fact. 

And he was going to give you all the time you needed to talk to your best friend before anyone else found out about this. 

“We both missed you.” You whispered while pulling your face up to look at him; of course referring to the sex, in the same way he gave his penis credit for his actions earlier. His lips slowly pulled into a grin as he looked down at you; no confusion about who you were suddenly speaking for. Through lifted brows and with a pointed look you added, “and a promise is a promise.”

He stiffened lightly, a tiny jolt of understanding and his lips opened to speak to this, to offer whatever silly opinion he had about what he could and could not tolerate as far as this relationship and you lifted your eyebrows higher. 

“I was talking to him, Kyungsoo,” you said sharply, before he could go back on his word and offer up any more protests. Your meaning was clear. He could give you this much grace. He could be reasonable. You weren’t asking for a year, just a few days.

You reached a hand down quickly and the man actually flinched, angling his hips away from you. Your rapid movements and indirect conversation with his penis had spooked him. 

“Come on, let’s go pack for your trip.” You giggled and reached for his hand, taking a step with him in tow behind you. You felt occasional resistance against your tugging hand as he reached back to grab the ball cap he’d tossed onto the counter after he’d gotten dressed in your bedroom and he turned off the lights he passed along the way. 

You made your way through your home toward the door, grabbing your phone and keys and stuffing them quickly into a purse you had hanging by the front door and you pulled him through the threshold, not once letting go of that hand that held you just as tightly as you held him.

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Rat Bastard Masterlist

[baekhyunsbestie]

How do you think EXO members would react if f! reader locked their legs around them right before they came so they have no choice but to cum inside ? 🤭

happy belated bday btw 💋😽

omg first of all thank u sm for the bday wishes 🩷💞💓💖🩷💞 ur so sweet i wanna kiss ur forehead n hand u a cupcake. now second of all… ur req??? that’s villain behavior. that’s final boss energy. i’m... obsessed w u

would deffo panic (but still cum, let’s b real):

⟢ junmyeon

he tries to keep his composure—bless his soul. his hands are steady, his pace controlled, that little crease in his brow showing how close he is… but the second you wrap your legs around him, lock him in tight, and give him that look? he falters.

his breath catches in his throat, a soft gasp slipping past his lips. “b-baby, wait—i’m gonna—fuck,” he chokes out, voice trembling as his hips twitch, control slipping from his fingers like sand. his lips press to your collarbone, moaning into your skin as he cums hard and fast, buried deep inside you before he can even process what’s happening.

his body gives in completely, but his brain? immediate crisis mode. this is a responsible man, okay—his inner voice is screaming pull out pull out pull the fuck out, but it’s already too late. he’s twitching, pulsing inside you, whispering your name like it’s a prayer as he unravels.

and afterward? he’s a mess. still cradling your waist like he’s afraid you’ll float away, face flushed as he glances down at the mess between you, mumbling, “you really drive me crazy…” half-dazed, half-mortified, fully obsessed.

he’s sweating, overthinking, already asking if you’re on birth control while also 100% plotting how soon he can do it again. bc yeah—he panicked, sure… but that orgasm? it wrecked him. and now he’s lowkey addicted.

⟢ kyungsoo

he goes completely still. no words, no sounds—just a sharp inhale and the way his whole body tenses, like his brain short-circuited trying to process what you just did. it’s not panic exactly… it’s something deeper. heavier.

and then it hits—this low, guttural groan tearing from his chest, raw and unfiltered as his hands clamp down on your hips, hard, like instinct. he cums inside you with a shuddering gasp, body trembling, jaw clenched, every pulse hitting so deep it steals his breath.

but he doesn’t move. he just stays there, buried in you, breathing heavy, fingers still digging into your waist like he’s not done. like he can’t be done.

later? he’ll act unfazed, cool and composed as ever—but his grip lingers a little longer, his gaze burns a little darker, and that edge in his voice? yeah… he’s still thinking about it. still replaying how it felt to be trapped like that—how badly he liked it.

and next time? oh, he’s flipping the script. he’s the one locking your legs up.

⟢ sehun

he starts off cocky—smirking, teasing, mouthing off like he’s got you wrapped around his finger. but the second your legs lock around him, and he realizes he’s trapped? he falters. his jaw clenches, breath catches, and for a split second, that smug confidence flickers into something needy.

“shit—fuck, you’re really not letting me go?” he mutters, voice low and shaky, head tipping back as his hands grip your thighs tighter, body already giving in. he cums hard, so hard it knocks the wind out of him—hips stuttering, eyes fluttering shut, a groan ripping from his throat as he fills you up.

and afterward? the cockiness snaps right back. he leans in, voice still wrecked, lips brushing yours as he whispers, “god… you’re so desperate for me, huh?” but his body betrays him—he’s still trembling, still holding you too tight, still on the edge of unraveling all over again.

he acts unfazed, but he’s shaken. keeps thinking about it, replaying the moment your legs locked around him like a highlight reel in his head. he’ll tease you for it later, but deep down? he’s hooked—and he knows it.

would love it (like… boatloads. gallons. ocean of sin):

⟢ baekhyun

the way he freezes—jaw clenched, eyes dark, body completely still—it’s not hesitation. it’s anticipation. it’s him finally processing that you did exactly what he’s been dying for.

he just stares at you for a second, chest heaving, like he can’t believe you really locked him in like that. but deep down? this fucker’s been waiting for it. fantasizing about it. craving that moment you’d snap, pull him in, trap him.

he exhales slow—low, dangerous—then rolls his hips deeper, pressing you flush against him with a wicked smirk.

“oh… so that’s how we’re playing now?”

no panic. no resistance. just pure, unfiltered chaos spilling through every movement.

you tighten your legs around him and that’s when he snaps. a guttural moan tears out of his throat, hands gripping your hips so tight it’s bruising, possessive, like he’s scared you’ll slip away mid-orgasm. his thrusts go rough, sharp, merciless—he’s fucking you thru it like he wants to ruin you. like he wants to leave his name carved inside you.

“yeah? you want it that bad, baby?” he growls, voice all wrecked and breathless. “then take it. take all of it.”

he cums hard, hips jerking, body trembling as he fills you to the brim—deep, heavy, twitching from how hard he’s unraveling inside you. and even when it’s over, he doesn’t stop. he’s still grinding into you, chasing every last drop, still groaning low in your ear like he can’t get enough.

his hands slide under your knees, holding you open, keeping you locked in place, making sure not a single drop escapes. you’re not going anywhere. not yet.

he’s still catching his breath, sweat dripping, chest rising and falling—but his grin? dangerous. insatiable. smug as hell. “we’re doin’ that again,” he says, voice gravelly and full of promise.

because yeah… you just gave him exactly what he’s been craving. and now that you’ve unleashed it? he’s not letting you walk straight for days.

⟢ jongin

the way he’d whimper for you—soft, breathless, completely wrecked. he was already close, barely holding on, and the moment your legs lock tight around him, his whole body goes rigid. a broken moan tumbles out, your name spilling from his lips like a prayer as he loses it.

his forehead drops to yours, hand cradling your face, voice shaking as he whispers, “you feel too good… can’t stop… can’t stop…” over and over while he cums deep inside you—completely overwhelmed by the heat, the pressure, the way your body traps him in that perfect, filthy bliss.

his hips jerk through it, rhythm messy, desperate, like he’s trying to carve the feeling into his bones. the pleasure hits him so hard he starts babbling, words spilling out in a frenzy.

“fuckfuckfuck, baby—yes—yes—fuck, i’m gonna cum so deep.”

he’s gone. utterly undone. you lock your legs, and he’s yours—whimpering, twitching, eyes fluttering as he fills you up. the way he finishes? obscene. thick and heavy, dripping from you long after.

and afterward, he stays buried in you, breath ragged, fingers still clutching your waist, body trembling from the overstimulation. he’s dazed, messy, addicted—and already thinking about the next time.

because next time? he’ll beg you to do it again—before he even gets close.

⟢ chanyeol

he completely malfunctions. the second your legs lock around him, his body tenses, eyes flicking down like he can’t believe what you just did. “did you just—?” he breathes, stunned for half a second.

then he groans—low, guttural, filthy—and slams his hips forward without hesitation. instinct takes over. control? gone. “you wanna be filled that bad, huh?” he growls, voice strained, hands gripping your thighs like he’s trying to hold himself together but completely unraveling.

his pace turns rough, messy, desperate—he’s fucking you through his orgasm like it’s not just release, it’s a mission. he cums hard, deep, shaking, groans spilling out of him with every pulse, burying his face in your neck like he needs to anchor himself to reality.

his whole body shudders, breath ragged, and even after he finishes, he doesn’t stop. he stays inside you, still panting, still twitching, hands holding your legs in place like he’s not ready to let go.

“fuck… you’re gonna get me addicted to this,” he mutters, voice wrecked, lips brushing your skin.

(spoiler: he already is.)

⟢ minseok

he’s deceptively calm—breathing heavy, eyes sharp, muscles tense—but when your legs suddenly lock around him, there’s no panic. just a slow, wicked smirk and a flicker of chaos behind his gaze.

“so fuckin' greedy,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, before driving his hips in deeper, harder—relentless. he cums with a deep groan pressed against your skin, jaw clenched, body shaking as he buries himself to the hilt.

his hands slide under your knees, pushing your legs open wider, holding you there while he fills you up completely, watching you squirm from how full you feel—watching you come undone from the weight of it.

he says nothing at first, just stares down at you with that intense, unreadable expression, like he’s memorizing the moment you took control. like you flipped a switch in him. and when his voice finally breaks the silence, it’s hoarse and heavy: “want me to fill ya up that badly, huh?”

he loves the shift—loves the way you took what you wanted and made him surrender without a single word. he cums deep and slow, shivering as he groans through his teeth, every pulse of release drawn out, deliberate.

and when it’s over, he doesn’t move. just stays there, buried in you, still twitching, still hard, watching the way your body trembles around him. watching his cum start to drip out—and thinking about how fast he can get you there again.

⟢ yixing

oh, he’d love it—crave it, even. that loss of control, that moment you take over and lock your legs around him? it ruins him in the best way. his breath catches, a broken, shaky groan escapes his throat, and suddenly he’s kissing you harder—messy, desperate, hungry for every inch of you.

“want me that badly?” he whispers against your lips, voice low and trembling, wrecked beyond belief. his fingers dig into your waist as his hips stutter, soft moans spilling from his mouth like a prayer—raw, unfiltered, beautiful.

and when he cums, it’s deep—slow, heavy, every pulse like he’s pouring his soul into you. he holds you tighter, burying his face in your neck, still gasping, still trembling, like he never wants to let you go.

“fuck, baby… ya feel too good. i can’t stop. don’t wanna stop.”

he’d thank you for it—like you just gave him the most intimate gift. even after, he stays inside, still twitching from how hard he came, kissing your skin between breathless praises.

you feel too perfect. he’s not pulling out. not yet. not when he’s this deep, this full, this completely undone by you.

[mercuryport]

falso sacrificio do amor

projeto de músicas brasileiras se tornando capas de VHS: 2/? (a primeira é essa aqui xx)

essa capa foi baseada em "Falso milagre do amor" do Ed Motta, mas com modificações!

[kodalindissima]

CARTOMANTE

baekhyun + kyungsoo - exo psd heavenly @colour-source credite em caso de inspo visse?

[pyromanick]

— papai noel, eu quero esse uber! | baeksoo

[yeolsaintlaurent]

Nocturnal Reverie ch.11 [PCY]

pairing - chanyeol x fem reader

genre - mature, smut, angst

themes - power imbalance, romance, crime, justice, class divide, politics, sex

synopsis - In the sprawling, dystopian city of Emberhaven, where power and corruption reign supreme, the lives of two unlikely individuals collide in a tale of passion, intrigue, and moral reckoning. Chanyeol, an enigmatic and wealthy scion of the city's elite, finds himself captivated by the elusive Y/N, a cunning and resourceful thief who navigates the treacherous underworld of Emberhaven. Their first encounter, sparked by a chance meeting in a luxurious club called The Velvet Lounge, sets the stage for a whirlwind romance amidst a backdrop of crime, politics, and danger.

warnings - drug use, kidnapping

A/N - i am so so so glad to be back and writing. thank you for reading this series after my long ass hiatus. so many notifications kept popping up during the hiatus about likes and reblogs on Nocturnal Reverie and CVMF and it always made me smile and filled with joy. i am very grateful for all the readers new and old. as always, let me know what you think about this chapter. feedback is always welcome. love you all xx

edit : changed the message at the end

Chapter 11: The Message

Y/N stirred awake in Chanyeol's bed, the sheets cool beside her where he should have been. She reached out instinctively but found only emptiness. Frowning, she glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 11 AM. He must have gone out early. Maybe he had things to take care of.

Yawning, she got up and padded toward the kitchen. Her cat, a sleek, black feline named Kat, greeted her with a purr and a brush against her legs. She picked him up, rubbing his belly affectionately. He purred louder, a comforting sound in the quiet apartment.

"Good morning, Kat," she murmured, setting him down to fill his bowls with wet food, dry food, and fresh water. He meowed appreciatively before diving into his breakfast.

Opening the fridge, Y/N found a carton of strawberry juice and took a long swig straight from it. She smiled to herself, enjoying the small luxuries of Chanyeol’s well-stocked kitchen. His fancy coffee machine caught her eye, and she decided to make herself a caramel macchiato. As the machine whirred to life, her thoughts wandered to Chanyeol.

She still knew so little about what he did for a living. He had mentioned something about cutting off his family and wanting to start a new life, but the details were vague. What could have been so important that he took such a drastic step? He had said it was something that didn’t align with his values, but why? And what exactly had he done?

The rich aroma of coffee filled the kitchen, snapping her out of her reverie. Her macchiato was ready. She poured it into a mug and carried it to the lounge, sinking into the plush couch. She turned on the TV, flicking through channels until she stopped at the news.

The headline on the screen made her freeze. "Apartment Fire in Emberhaven: Possible Arson." Her heart skipped a beat. The image of the burning building filled the screen. It was her apartment.

“Oh no,” she whispered, clutching the mug tightly. Whoever did this was sending her a message, and she received it loud and clear. Lucio’s men. It had to be them.

The reporter’s voice cut through her shock. "We have an interview with the lead investigator on the scene." The camera switched to a familiar face. Minseok.

“We believe the perpetrator is someone we’ve been monitoring for a long time,” Minseok said, his expression grim.

Y/N's mind raced. Was he talking about Lucio or her? She turned off the TV and leaned back, closing her eyes. Things were getting worse. She had to find a way to fix this before anyone else got hurt.

Reaching for her phone, she quickly sent a message to Kai. She waited for a response, but none came. As she was about to set her phone down, a notification popped up from a private number. Her heart pounded as she opened it.

"Come here at 10:30 PM tonight with the money and goods, and all will be forgiven", with a pin to what seemed to be an obscure alley leading to the docks.

A million thoughts raced through her mind. This could be her way out, but it could also be a trap. Whatever it was, it was her problem to solve, her burden to bear. She wouldn’t drag Chanyeol into this mess, not when she loved him as much as she did. She had to protect him, even if it meant facing the danger alone.

At the police station, Minseok sat behind his desk, the clutter of papers and case files spread before him. He was deep in conversation with a fellow officer about the fire when his phone rang, the harsh sound cutting through the room. He picked up the receiver, his expression hardening as the warden's grim voice crackled through the line.

"Lucio has escaped. Four of our officers are dead."

Minseok's face twisted in anger. "What the hell were you doing while this happened? How could you let a high-profile mobster away?" His voice was a mix of fury and disbelief.

The warden's response was muffled, but the weight of the news hit Minseok like a freight train. This was troubling beyond measure. He slammed the receiver down, his mind racing with the implications. They had to act fast.

Grabbing his cellphone, he dialed Kyungsoo. The phone barely rang twice before Kyungsoo answered.

"Lucio escaped," Minseok said without preamble. "We need to accelerate our plans. This is escalating faster than we anticipated."

Kyungsoo's voice was steady. "Understood. What do you need?"

"We need to find Lucio again, and fast. But there's more. The apartment that was torched—it was supposed to be abandoned. But the remains suggest someone was living there. A woman. I don’t think it is farfetched to assume that it could be the girl we saw during the sting."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. Kyungsoo's mind raced. He had his suspicions about who she might be based on his conversations with Chanyeol, but he kept his voice neutral. "I'll handle the matter of the girl. It's my responsibility to find out more about her."

Minseok agreed, albeit reluctantly. "Fine. But I'm increasing the number of people in this case. We need to catch Lucio, and fast. Once we have him, we can move on to Dom."

"I'll keep you updated," Kyungsoo said before hanging up. He couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get even more complicated.

Y/N stood in the dimly lit alley, the shadows swallowing her slight figure clad in all black. She checked her phone screen for the time—10:15 PM. The cold night air bit at her skin as she waited for any message from the unknown sender. She took a deep breath and sent her live location to Kai. She knew he had her back, no matter what. Their bond was forged in childhood, built on trust and countless shared secrets. She smiled at the thought of how she used to entrust him with her precious beanie baby toys and her weekly allowance.

Suddenly, the alley was flooded with bright headlights. She squinted against the harsh light, quickly tucking her phone into her boot. The car door creaked open, and she heard the unmistakable sound of heavy boots hitting the pavement.

"Well, well, well," a raspy, sarcastic voice drawled. "Look who decided to show up."

Y/N's heart raced. Lucio.

He stepped into the light, a sneer on his face, his eyes raking over her in a way that made her skin crawl. "You did the right thing, sweetheart," he said, his voice laced with crude amusement. "Now, why don't you come over here and give me that duffel bag? Nice and slow."

Y/N swallowed her fear and took a tentative step forward, clutching the bag tightly. "Here it is," she said, her voice steady despite the terror clawing at her insides. She approached Lucio, her eyes never leaving his.

Lucio's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. "That's it, nice and easy," he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. "Gotta say, you clean up nice. It's a shame you're mixed up in all this."

Y/N forced herself to stay calm, to focus on the task at hand. She held out the duffel bag, but Lucio didn't take it right away. Instead, he reached out and ran a finger down her arm, making her shudder with revulsion.

"Such a brave little thing," he sneered, leaning in close. "But bravery won't get you far in this world, darling. Especially not with the kind of people you're dealing with."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes flashing with defiance. "Just take the bag and leave me out of this," she said, her voice firm.

Lucio chuckled, a dark, mocking sound. "Oh, I don't think so. You see, you're part of this now. And there's no getting out."

He finally took the bag from her, opening it to inspect the contents. His eyes lit up as he saw the money and the goods inside. "Well, well, you actually came through. I'm almost impressed."

Y/N took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest. "You got what you wanted. Never ever contact me again."

Lucio looked up from the bag, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "Not so fast, sweetheart. We need to have a little chat first. About your boyfriend."

Her blood ran cold. "What about him?"

Lucio's smile widened. "Oh, don't play dumb with me. You think I don't know who he is? What he is? Chanyeol’s got a lot of people interested in him. And now, because of him, they're interested in you too."

She tried to mask her fear with anger. "Leave him out of this. He has nothing to do with your business."

Lucio laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Oh! Is that what you think? How cute." He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Get in the car while I'm still being nice," he said, his voice dripping with fake politeness.

Y/N's heart raced. "Fuck you! And what if I refuse?" she challenged, her voice steady despite the fear gripping her.

Lucio's expression darkened, the sarcasm vanishing. "Then your little lover will get hurt. A lot. I'll make sure of it."

As he spoke, Y/N's hand slowly reached toward the knife in her right boot. But before she could react, two large figures appeared from the shadows behind her, grabbing her roughly. She struggled, but they overpowered her easily, throwing her into the car.

Lucio smirked to himself as he turned and got into the car next to Y/N. By now, her hands and feet were tied, and a strip of tape was plastered across her mouth. She thrashed around, desperate to free herself, but it was no use.

"Quiet down," Lucio ordered, his voice cold. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of white powder. He poured it onto a tray in front of him and meticulously cut lines into the cocaine. As the car started moving, he rolled up a 100 bill and snorted a line.

Lucio then turned toward Y/N, gesturing the rolled-up bill toward her as if to offer some. She angrily turned away, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

Her mind raced, searching for a way out. She glanced at Lucio, who seemed momentarily lost in his drug-induced haze. Despite her terror, she knew she had to stay calm and wait for the right moment to escape. Her life, and possibly Chanyeol's, depended on it.

As the car came to a halt, the tires crunching over the gravel, Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine. Lucio, still engrossed in his cocaine-fueled haze, clumsily opened the door and gestured for her to follow. The two large figures who had been his enforcers stepped out first, their imposing forms casting long shadows in the dim light.

Y/N was pulled roughly from the car, the cold night air biting at her skin. She was led toward a large, dilapidated building that loomed ominously in the distance. As they approached, the grandeur of the structure became more apparent despite its current state of decay.

It was an old theatre, its faded grandeur hinting at a time when it had been the heart of cultural life. The exterior was crumbling, with ivy creeping up the walls and broken windows revealing glimpses of the interior. The building’s once-majestic façade was now scarred with neglect, but it still retained an air of faded opulence.

The men pushed Y/N inside, and she stumbled into the grand foyer. The interior was a ghostly echo of its former self: ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals coated in dust; velvet drapes lined the walls, tattered and moth-eaten; and the remnants of plush seating lay scattered about, some torn and others still surprisingly intact.

Lucio led her through the foyer, his footsteps echoing off the high ceilings. The grandeur of the theatre’s stage was revealed as they entered the main hall. Despite the dust and cobwebs, the stage retained its regal charm, with its once-brilliant red curtains now hanging in tatters and the remnants of a lavishly decorated backdrop partially visible.

Y/N was brought to the centre of the stage, her heart pounding with anxiety. The vast space around her seemed empty and imposing. Lucio’s men roughly tied her to a sturdy wooden chair placed in the middle of the stage, securing her wrists and ankles with thick rope. A strip of tape was placed over her mouth, effectively silencing any protests or pleas for help.

Lucio stood at the edge of the stage, his presence looming over her. He gazed around the old theatre with a smirk, clearly amused by the contrast between its former splendour and its current state of decay.

“Now,” Lucio said, his voice dripping with false politeness, “we’re going to move on to the more important part of our business. I suggest you make yourself comfortable, though I doubt you’ll be enjoying the show.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of white powder. He dipped into it with a tiny golden spoon. After snorting it, he turned toward Y/N with a mocking gesture, offering her some.

Y/N turned her head away in disgust, her anger and fear battling for control. Lucio’s smirk widened as he took another hit.

“Just so you know,” he said, his tone growing darker, “if you don’t cooperate, Chanyeol will be the one to suffer. I can make sure of that, believe me.”

He then gestured for the men to leave the stage, and they exited, their footsteps fading into the distance. The theatre’s oppressive silence enveloped Y/N, amplifying her sense of isolation.

Alone on the stage, Y/N surveyed her surroundings with a mix of hope and desperation. The grandeur of the theatre, despite its decay, might hold some hidden opportunities. She had to stay calm and find a way to escape, both for herself and for Chanyeol.

As Y/N remained tied to the chair, the echoes of Lucio’s footsteps grew fainter, leaving her alone in the oppressive silence of the abandoned theatre. The dim light from a single overhead bulb flickered intermittently, casting long shadows that danced across the stage. Her thoughts raced with plans for escape, but for now, she had to wait.

Outside, the night air was crisp and cool, and the city lights shimmered faintly in the distance. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Chanyeol was pacing anxiously in his upscale apartment, his mind a whirlwind of worry. The usual calm of his surroundings did little to soothe his nerves, especially with Y/N missing and the fire at her apartment still fresh in his mind.

Chanyeol’s phone buzzed on the glass coffee table, pulling him from his anxious thoughts. He picked it up, expecting a message from Y/N or a far-fetched text from Kai. Instead, the screen displayed a single notification from an unknown number.

He tapped on it, and the message that appeared was cryptic and chilling:

"2 AM. Come alone, or she dies."

Chanyeol’s heart raced as he read the message, his face going pale. The gravity of the situation hit him like a freight train. The old theatre—he knew where that was. The message was a sinister hint about what was to come, and the urgency in its words made his stomach churn.

He quickly glanced at his watch; it was already past ten-thirty. There was no time to waste. Chanyeol’s mind raced as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. His phone buzzed again, but he didn’t have time to check it. He had to get to the theatre and figure out what Lucio had planned.

The apartment was left in chaotic disarray as Chanyeol rushed out, his pulse pounding in his ears. He had to find Y/N before it was too late. The message had made one thing painfully clear: the night was far from over, and the real danger was just beginning.