༄ INTO IT B. CHAN !

Can you do a nsfw alphabet with seungmin next please

𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄 𝗮𝗹𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗯𝗲𝘁 ➞ 𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗺𝗶𝗻

𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿; 𝗶 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗼: 𝗛, 𝗜, 𝗼𝗿 𝗫 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗛 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗫 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗸𝘇 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗲.

➞ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗰𝘂𝗺, 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀, 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗯𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹, 𝘁𝗼𝘆𝘀, 𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝗽𝗲 (𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗹𝗺𝗮𝗼), 𝗲𝘁𝗰.

➞ 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝘂𝘆𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗺𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗱𝘃𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 (𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗵𝗶𝗺) 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝘀 𝗶 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗵𝗶𝗺…𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘆. 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆! ♡

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

His ass is lowkey just tired tbh...but he still does aftercare and stuff. He'll bring you something to drink, to eat, and maybe even clean himself off. Other than that, he'll be lying down attempting to fall asleep while listening to your whines about how your pussy hurts, but he doesn't give a single shit.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself: Probably his hands or his chest. Only his favorite because you rest on his chest after, and his hands because he knows you find them hot asf.

On you: Everything but probably your boobs. Just like the dog he is, he can't help himself except touch them and squeeze them like stress balls. He finds them relaxing to play with. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

When you give him head he LOVES cumming on your face. And boy does it turn him on when you lick it off of his dick or rub it into your face to make you all messy-looking. Would actually prefer to cum inside you but is too afraid to ask.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

HAS sucked dick before but WON'T tell you who, when, or why. All you know is that he was drunk and at a party. He won't tell you who because he doesn't even remember. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not experienced/Beginner. Honestly, he's only at a few hookups and never got to take over. Everybody assumed he was more sub, but he really would like to be on the top for once. (All of his...dreams...are him in the top position).

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ANY!! Missionary and doggy-style king to be exact. He absolutely adores the sight of your legs and hands tied together so he can take over, but of course, you agreed to it beforehand.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious. He wouldn't joke around in such a serious moment. The only thing he's saying is praise and degrading words. Laughs can be saved until after sex.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcannon)

He once wondered how high he could cum from his tip to wherever in the air. He did measure it, and told you he measured it, but he won't say how tall.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Degradation

Subtle Roleplay 

Anal

Humiliation

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere and anytime. It could be in a park at night or in a restaurant bathroom. Whenever you have the need for it, he'll do it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Nothing specific. Maybe like touching or edging him, which is rather obvious. He also gets turned on by revealing clothes/lingerie.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hitting near face

Age play

Feet (gets weirded out by it)

Bodily fluids (specifically blood or peeing)

Breath Play

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Surprisingly prefers giving head and is pretty skillful with his. He sucks on your clit, leaves little kisses but can also eat you out like a starving man. Although, he enjoys being sucked off too, like said in the "C", he will either cum on your face, down your throat, or on your tongue.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Both. Faster when he begins but ends up slowing down not only because of how tired he is, but because he's close. When he's close he gets slower and has to think where he wants to cum. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hates them. Only hates them because he can't do anything fun. The only time he does quickies is when you are out in public, except you're the one telling him to stop before you get caught.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Kinda, but he likes to stick to what he knows. Will take risks for you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I know I may say this for DanceRacha but VocalRacha and 3Racha also have great stamina. The breath control needed for singing high notes, dancing, and rapping is insane in general. And before you bring up Jeongin...Jeongin is LOUD. Not out of breath.

He can go for however many he wants and will make them last however long he wants.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn't own any toys but really wants to buy them for you and see the look on your face when you open his "present".

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

2nd most teasing behind Minho (2min, hear me out!!). He'll not only tease you physically but also verbally. Imagine saying you were gonna climax and this mf says "No." like girl I would NEVER have an orgasm again, in fact, I'm dry all of a sudden.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

One of the most silent ever. All you can hear him do is breathe and degrade you. (is this not hot?? #freemefrompplwhodisagree)

W = Wild card (a random headcannon for the character) 

He will ALWAYS be packed with extra condoms in all shapes and sizes like he's getting cock too. Will only not wear one if you ask, because he's clean cause it's Seungmin ofc.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Could definitely be higher, but it stays at a constant rate. His sex drive is basically a zero slope line or the beautiful horizon because of how straight and horizontal it is. He's always a little horny so if you can turn him on a bit more he's willing to dick you down.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not very often (cause it's usually during the day or in public), but after a couple of long, hard rounds, give him maybe 30 minutes before he feels a little sleepy. If and once he sees you asleep, it's lights out for him.

𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁! 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱, 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗮𝗱𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗯𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗶𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗶 𝗮𝗺 𝗱𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿 ♡

Order Up! | SKZ

A mini-series where you place an order for your favorite ice cream and I serve you -- well, you'll see. (This IS an NSFW series, so MDNI!)

Directions: To place your order, head to my inbox (link in my pinned post) and tell me what flavor ice cream you want + what topping you would like on your ice cream. Due to a limited amount of toppings, I'd like to limit the orders to One (1) Ice Cream Flavor & Two (2) Toppings per flavor, if you wish to have more than one.

If you place an order that has already been served, I'll simply link you to that serving.

These replies WILL be short & simple, they are NOT full scenarios and are just answers to the topping questions - So if you want a longer reply that is more in depth, ask for two scoops instead of one!

Onto the menu!

Flavors

Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough : Christopher Bang : Decadent & Dreamy

Chocolate Covered Cherry : Lee Minho : Rich & Luxurious

Cotton Candy : Seo Changbin : Soft & Creamy

French Vanilla : Hwang Hyunjin : Smooth & Classic

Strawberry Cheesecake : Han Jisung : Tangy & Elegant

Blue Moon : Lee Felix : Enchanting & Vibrantly Sweet

Mint Chocolate : Kim Seungmin : Crisp & Comforting

Butter Pecan : Yang Jeongin : TImeless & Velvety

Toppings

Hot Fudge - A sexual fantasy of his

Caramel Sauce - What he watches/listens to/indulges in to get off

Strawberry Drizzle - Something non-sexual that turns him on

Chocolate Chips - If he's interested in threesomes/orgys

Peanuts - His favorite position

Candied Almonds - His favorite location to be intimate

Whipped Cream - What he prefers his partner to wear during intimacy

Marshmallow Topping - Where he likes to be touched

Cherries - His favorite toys/If he likes using toys

Coconut Flakes - How he likes it (soft/rough/etc)

Sprinkles - His favorite part of your body

Oreos - His favorite intimate act (oral/vaginal/etc)

M&Ms - An instant turn on for him

Reeses Pieces - His favorite act of foreplay

Pretzels - What position he oftens takes in bed (top/bottom/vers)

Graham Crackers - His favorite part of his own body

Sea Salt - A roleplay scenario he wants to try

Popping Pearls - How he sexts/If he sexts

Example Orders

"I'd like to order one scoop of Mint Chocolate with Peanut toppings please!" "Two scoops of Butter Pecan with M&Ms & Graham Crackers please :)"

90 with Chan or seungmin 🫶🏻🫶🏻 please

90.) "My tongue still remembers the way you taste."

Pairing: Chan x Reader

Warnings: ex's, smut, suggestive, slight angst??

A/N: I’m still not back. Just working on the remaining old requests on the rare occasions i feel well enough to.

SUGAR HONEY ICE & TEA — [18+!]

"But you could have taken a hot guy to your room instead of being with a nerd like me.”

You scoff, “What do you mean? I’m literally on top of the hottest guy at this party right now.”

Jisung sighs again.

“Y/N… Don’t say that. You’ll make me believe that you actually mean it.”

⛓️ SYNOPSIS: Jisung’s initial plan for tonight’s party was to finally gather up enough courage to talk to his long time crush. But for some reason spending time with you instead feels so much more natural and when things get a little more serious, your friend starts wondering if you will notice his lack of experience…

💊 CONTENT INFO: jisung x afab reader, this is part of the completed series Levanter and takes place before its events but can be read as a standalone (there are no spoilers), smut with plot, roommate jisung, friends to lovers/fwb, college au, reader has adhd/is referred to as neurodivergent, some parts are inspired by the show How To Sell Drugs Online (Fast) and the documentary Shiny Flakes on Netflix, content warning and smut tags under the cut

💵 WORD COUNT: 12.7K

🔪 CONTENT WARNING: topics of heavy drug dealing and mention of using, mention of unrequited love (not jisung and reader), alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, insecurities, mental health topics such as anxiety, addiction and adhd

🔥 SMUT: (includes spoilers) slightly tipsy make out session but rest is in sober state, both sub/dom and dom/sub dynamics, handjob, fingering, oral (m + f receiving), semi-protected piv, praise kink, slight spit play, slight marking, loss of virginity (m), name calling (baby, good boy, princess)

The characters do not portray any of the skz members in real life, the names are just used for fiction. Minors do not interact, this post contains mature topics. By reading you consent to nsw content and agree that you have read all the warnings above carefully.

“Look at this graph.”

You sigh. It’s the seventh time he’s trying to explain this exercise now. You’re giving up. Statistics is a bitch and you don’t wanna fuck with her anymore.

“Sungie… I don’t get it. If I hear the term expected value one more time I’m gonna start crying, I’m honest.”

Your friend chuckles a little, as he scoots closer, before reaching for the computer mouse. Jisung opens a different PDF file then, deciding to repeat the basic theory with you again.

“Y/N, look. You’ve still got enough time. I’m gonna help you, okay? But I fear we have to start with the general knowledge again to understand the exercises.”

You whine, as your head falls back, your eyes closing while a moan spills from your lips. Your roommate feels like a perv that those innocent sounds that come from a source of annoyance do something to him that he would never ever confess. The way you’re sitting there, incredibly exhausted and relying on his help—it makes him feel like the worst friend ever considering you’re here in his room to study statistics.

And Jisung is here to teach you. Definitions. Numbers. Formulas. Stupid values and God knows what because he’s a nerd that is fucking good at everything. He’s studying computer science but for some reason he’s good at everything that is somewhat a part of IT and mathematics.

“Let’s try this exercise one last time and if you still have troubles with it, we will go back to the basics, okay?”

You’re aware it’s nothing personal. It’s honest criticism and you value that so much. After all, it's no use handling you with kid gloves, if you fail your exam that way.

“Alright…”

“Here, look through the list of formulas and read the question carefully again. Maybe underlining the important values and numbers helps you sort all the chaos,” he says with a smile.

“I’ll try,” you answer, skimming through the list once more.

He hates seeing you like this. You absolutely enjoy studying pharmacology, you’re born to be a pharmacist but statistics is getting on your last existing nerve.

Jisung doesn’t know what kind of power washes over his soul but he scoots even closer, laying an arm on the back of your chair before he speaks again.

“You’re smart, Y/N. You’re so good at what you’re doing, you know that, right?”

It’s not meant that way but the praise instantly shoots straight up to your head and then back again down to your core.

You look back at Jisung this time and that’s when you get lost in those eyes again. Those beautiful brown eyes that manage to hypnotise you fully just with a quick glare.

It’s probably just your imagination but for a second it feels as if Jisung is looking back at you with the same energy, as if he’s getting lost in the moment as well.

When your gaze flickers down to his lips—those beautiful lips that you are dying to feel against your own—Jisung’s heart starts beating out of his chest.

Fuck. He’s doomed. He can’t misinterpret those signs, can he?

A knock from the other side of Jisung’s room startles you.

“Can I come in?” A male voice asks.

“Sure,” Jisung allows your other friend entrance. Just when he was so close to you none other than the guy he constantly compares himself to has to ruin the moment. Fucking typical.

He walks into the room then, updating you on the plans for the party later. “I’m gonna go to the store to get some more drinks. Do we have everything else for tonight?”

You turn around to the curly haired, shooting him a quick smile. You’re glad he’s taking care of all the things that still need to be done so Jisung and you are able to fully focus on studying.

Right. Studying. It’s definitely that and not you non-stop staring at him.

“Yes. I’m gonna prepare the remaining snacks. Most stuff is already finished,” you announce.

“Great. Thanks. See you later,” is all he says before disappearing again. You can hear his footsteps in the distance and Jisung is already about to bring you back to the current exercise but your mind is still somewhere else.

Bang Chan. Your other roommate whom you’ve had a crush on since walking into this apartment for the first time three and a half years ago. It’s nothing serious. You swear.

You don’t see Jisung looking your way and noticing you ogling his older friend’s figure and he once again gets reminded why he’s never made a move on you—apart from simply not knowing how.

You’re more experienced, so it’s understandable that you’d rather choose someone in your league that definitely does not include your nerdy stoner roommate Jisung.

But little does Jisung know that both of them absolutely have the capability to sweep you off your feet. Maybe the younger one is even closer to winning the race, practically on the finishing line.

Yes, your crush on Chan was the first one to develop but after such a long time of flirting and no other move happening you gave up. Your older friend brings women home on a regular basis, has had girlfriends over the past years so at one point you stopped wasting your time fantasising about what you could be.

Whereas with Jisung you’re a little more comfortable. It just feels more natural spending time with him and, ironically, you like him that much that all this is enough for you—studying statistics with him, watching some dumb Netflix shows, teaching him how to cook although it’s hopeless, sharing the mediocre weed he bought from God knows where or simply sharing deep thoughts about anything in this world.

You really feel so comfortable around him. As if he’s meant to be your friend. Maybe even more. But you regularly push those ideas aside for a simple reason which also counts for your feelings regarding Chan that are slowly subsiding anyway.

It’s the roommate situation. You don’t want anything serious right now with anyone but you also don’t want to destroy both your important friendships for a casual hookup and demolish your own little feelings with some romance-free sex.

So, that’s why you’ve stopped paying attention to anyone’s attempts a long time ago. Well. Rather Chan’s approaches since Jisung doesn’t really flirt with you except from a few glances that can be categorised as literally nothing as well. You wonder if he’s just not interested or if it’s blamed on his shyness.

He’s not like that with others but then again, you rarely see him interact with women anyway. Or with people in general. Jisung spends most of his time studying, programming some stuff you don’t understand anyway, smoking his joints and playing whatever new video game he found on Steam that week.

“Do you know which formula to use for these numbers?”

Jisung’s question drags you from your daydreams. You hope he just thinks you’ve been zoned out because your head has been working hard to focus on the current task when in reality your thoughts are running free, crushing about your roommates but mostly him.

“No…” you say and it’s not even a lie. You’re simply lost when it comes to statistics. It’s like a whole foreign language to you that doesn’t even include sounds you understand.

“Try this one,” he suggests, as his fingers gesture on one of the formulas on the list. Fuck. Those pretty fingers.

Why did you ask Jisung again to help you study?

Well, because he’s basically a calculator himself and pretty good at explaining even when it comes to helpless cases like you. But, unfortunately, it also plays with your heart and mind a little. Sitting here in his room. Being so close to him.

For fuck’s sake, Y/N. Focus.

You reach for your calculator and turn it on again, typing in the numbers and values for the formula until you realise that some mathematical constant and a certain advanced arithmetic operation is missing on your device.

“Mine doesn’t have that option,” you say, showing all the buttons your calculator has to Jisung. His eyes skim all the letters, numbers and symbols but don’t find it either.

“You can use mine—also for your exam, by the way,” he says then.

Of course, he won’t let you fail your exam because you only own this old version of a calculator. He’s annoyed that your professor didn’t properly explain what supplies and devices you need for your test. But judging from the fact that the old man didn’t really explain anything well, it doesn’t surprise him.

“Thank you so much.”

The words sound so cute spilling from your lips.

“Not for that.”

Jisung searches around, trying to think about where he put his calculator again but it’s hard focusing when you look at him like that. Also, the fact you thank him for such a small gesture does dangerous things to his head. He wonders if you’d thank him as well for other things—like him pressing you against his mattress after you’ve been begging him to shove his cock inside you.

God. Jisung really needs to get laid. It’s getting ridiculous and pathetic.

“I-It’s on the shelf… inside the red box,” he says with a slight cough added after his words. He definitely can’t pick up the calculator himself. You’d see his growing erection, his embarrassing tent, inside his sweatpants. It’ll go away once you get up. He will just scroll through his apps and forget about that look on your face.

You nod before you head towards the furniture, looking around before you find the desired object. The box is pretty big and once you lift it a little, it feels as if there’s a lot more inside than just a calculator and other useful study supplies.

You rummage around, finally finding it but your whole body comes to a halt when your fingertips collide with a plastic bag that is filled with something that feels like candies or pills against your skin. Turning around, you notice Jisung is still busy on his phone.

You really don’t want to spy on him. You don’t. But it’s still weird having a huge back of whatever pills these are and after all you’re studying pharmacology, right? So it’s basically for research purposes.

Laying the calculator aside, you open the box now completely, lid getting discarded somewhere on the shelf.

“Can you find it?” Jisung asks, still with his back looking towards you.

“Yeah. I’ve got it.”

Just one closer look.

No.

It can’t be.

One hundred thoughts are running through your mind when you look at the little tablets that come in every shape, colour and with different kinds of logos stamped into them.

Is Jisung an addict?

You know that he’s at higher risk considering his mental health background and you immediately see red for your friend.

It’s none of your business. But you have to ask. You just have to make sure this isn't what it is but then again, your eyes don’t lie to you. It’s very obvious that he is hiding ecstasy in the box where he puts his calculator and other stuff he needs for university.

So, you grab the plastic bag out of the box, turn around and look at your roommate.

“Jisung… what is this?”

He spins around on his chair. For a moment he feels fear wash all over his body and he contemplates if he should lie but there are two reasons he shouldn’t.

First of all, you’re about to become a pharmacist in a few weeks once you’ve finished your studies, so pretending those pills are Smarties or M&Ms or whatever is useless. Second, as one of your closest friends Jisung knows how much you value honesty—even if it might hurt—and he will forever respect those limits and principles.

Fuck. It’s gonna be okay. You don’t judge people. He can feel comfortable and safe around you without a doubt.

“O-Oh… This is one kilogram of MDMA.”

You look at him. You switch to the plastic bag in your hand. Your eyes find his again.

“Yeah, I can tell. But why?”

Maybe there’s another reason. This doesn’t automatically mean he’s an addict. Perhaps a friend has left it here or something.

“Please don’t be mad at me…”

Shit. Your heart breaks when you hear the fear in his voice. He sounds so small, you want to pull him into a hug and never let go. Just protect him. Be there for him. Because this sounds fucking serious.

But he can get help. It’s definitely not too late.

“I could never be mad at you, Sungie.”

You’re really getting afraid he’s back into some bad drug issue. Sure, ecstasy isn’t as addicting as the ketamine he used back in highschool but due to his mental health background it could be for him on an emotional matter.

“I bought it for the party to impress Molly.”

Oh? Well, that is a plot twist. So it’s not for his own use, which is a good thing. Although it’s pretty dumb to get a hold of one kilogram of ecstasy to impress some girl. But then again, you’ve never witnessed Jisung with a woman before and since you never talk about romance and sex with him, you know nothing about his skills at all. Maybe he’s not that experienced which would explain starting such a stupid idea.

And, yes. Your roommate’s crush’s name is Molly and she tends to consume ecstasy from time to time. It is fucking ironic but it’s also absolutely hilarious.

But you don’t like her. Well, you don’t know her that much. You know for sure that she’s no good influence for your roommate but he’s a little naïve when it comes to things like that.

You don’t want to scold him. You really don’t want to. However, you have to bring him back to reality.

And saying you're shocked would be an understatement.

How did he even come up with this?!

“That is the dumbest idea you have ever had and you have had many of them. What were you thinking?”

Jisungs shoulders sink and his gaze meets his lap, attentively watching his fingers that are playing with the rings around them. Your friend might be a nerd but his style is stunning. Unfortunately, you sometimes catch yourself zoning out while staring at those pretty, elegant fingers—including everything they could do to you—and you dearly hope he doesn’t notice.

But maybe the staring will help you forget about your other roommate.

Fuck. You’re so doomed. Who has a crush on both their roommates?

It’s when Jisungs speaks again, when you wake up from your daydreams about his fingers on your skin, around your neck, grabbing your tits, stretching your pussy all nicely–

“Molly likes that older guy… his name is Changkyun and he buys his drugs from that pizza place in the suburbs and I followed him to his supplier.”

Wow. This is the last thing you’ve expected Jisung to do and you must say, you admire his confidence.

“I accidentally bought the whole stock the dealer had… he spoke something in Albanian which I couldn’t understand so I panicked and paid for all of it.”

Ah, yeah. That’s the clumsy Jisung again. The real version of him.

God. That’s so much to process. He’s five feet sinking into a puddle of dirt and absolute shit. A whole fucking mess.

You have to bring him back to reality, remind him that he can’t just casually store such a huge amount of drugs inside some box along with his calculator.

“What the fuck will you do with the rest of it? Or are you planning to give a whole kilogramm of ecstasy to your crush as a gift?”

It is an honest and important question and something tells you he hasn’t quite thought this whole thing through…

“No, of course not. I was considering reselling it,” he says, leaning back in his seat. There he is again. The Jisung that pretends to be the coolest person in the room until you actually believe him.

But that’s too much. It’s unrealistic. You don’t judge acts like that at all. However, Jisung isn’t the first one who comes to your mind when you imagine a typical drug dealer. Of course, he’s resold his weed before to friends but that’s not close to the idea of a business he is imagining right now.

“Jisung. You can’t even talk to your crush, how will you meet people in a park or a dark alley for dealing purposes?”

You have to bring his feet back to the ground.

“Online. I am preparing a shop online,” he casually says as if he’s talking about selling the drugs on Etsy.

“What?”

“Yeah. Like Amazon but I’m the only seller,” he explains.

“How’s that supposed to work?”

You decide to sit down on your chair again, after you discarded the ecstasy pills back in the red box.

Jisung gulps when you come closer. It was easy talking to you with that space between you. But now that you’re so near again, actually listening to him and not judging you for anything—well maybe except for his naivety but that’s understandable—he fears he will just fall in love with you even more.

So, feeling so absolutely comfortable around you, knowing he can trust you with his life, he explains the plan he’s had in mind and how he even came up with the idea.

“I programmed a website, will take some aesthetically pleasing pictures and start offering what I’ve got. There are plenty of those on the world wide web but all of them lack something so I thought, hey, I can do this too but better. I’ll either call it Shiny Flakes or J.Drugs.”

Hopefully, he will choose the first option. The latter is hinting way too close to his own name.

And, yup. That’s the real Jisung again. It’s funny, almost ironic—while he’s suffering from insecurities and anxiety, sometimes a wave of confidence overcomes him and suddenly he’s the most nonchalant person in the whole room.

“And then you're just gonna deliver it by post?”

He looks at you again.

“Yup. That’s the plan.”

💊

After another thirty minutes of actual studying you feel a lot more confident about your skills. When Chan comes back from his shopping, you help him a little by storing away the alcohol in the fridge before you disappear in your room.

Whilst getting ready for tonight, the ongoing thoughts appear in your head again, running around and doing some parkour to your hopeless little heart.

Were you really about to kiss Jisung? Jisung, your long time friend and one of the guys you live with?

God, you have to get yourself together.

Sure, you’ve been having a crush on him for some time now but you’re convinced those desires are mostly driven by the fact that you crave intimacy in general and that you really, really need to get laid.

Maybe a few drinks and a nice chit chat with a guy attending the party will help you distract from those heart eyes you have when being around your nerdy roommate.

That's how you find yourself in the living room some hours later, beer in one hand and the other one grazing over the chest of the guy in front of you. He’s a friend of Chan’s but you forgot where they met. Your roommate has mentioned it before but it seems as if that information wasn’t important enough to be stored as a memory in your head.

Soobin is kind. Maybe a little too kind that it seems fake.

Sure, you can blame it on your neurodivergent brain that you don’t understand the point behind using useless little petnames with a person you don’t really know but this has always gotten on your last nerve.

You don’t refer to flirting here. It’s fun being called cute words—princess and angel being among your favourites you must admit—but there’s a difference between including them in steamy conversations as well as during sex or just adding them to make yourself seem friendlier.

At least that’s how you perceive Soobin. He’s not really flirting with you, all the approaches have been from your side and he’s just throwing in all those nicknames as if he’s talking to anyone. It won’t make any sense to an outside person and maybe it’s just your brain and the booze trying to find a reason to not like this guy since Jisung and that almost-kiss-situation is still in your head.

But Soobin and you don’t vibe. You’re on a completely opposite level and he just seems so pretentious that it hurts. You don’t like fake people. Honesty is something you value very highly.

“You know what I really hate about social interactions?”

He tilts his head when listening to your question.

“What is it, dear?”

There it is again. Ugh. It really makes no sense. If someone else said that to you it’ll excite you, someone like Jisung–

Y/N, stop.

God, you’re hopeless.

“When people are overall… friendly and sweet from the beginning. As if they’ve known me for years, as if I’ve been their friend forever,” you explain and you actually mean that.

You don’t want to categorise Soobin after fifteen minutes of talking but that’s just his vibe.

“Why is that? You don’t like kind people?” Soobin asks.

You can’t even follow your own track of thoughts anymore and it feels like you don’t make any sense. Although, in a sober state you’d think the same and you’d be better at explaining.

“I wasn’t saying kind. I was referring to useless words to fill some void in your desperate heart.”

Ouch. That was a bit mean. Maybe you’re just honest. A little too honest sometimes. You don’t mean to hurt him but when he speaks again the regret washes away completely.

“What do you have against it? Doesn’t it just make you feel a little more welcomed and appreciated, love?”

You cringe at the petname and down the rest of your drink.

“It’s pretentious. At least it seems so. If you call just any human being out there your darling I know that I am just as replaceable as your next victim. Cheers.”

💊

“I wasn’t aware that you drink whiskey.”

After a quick visit to the bathroom you find yourself in the kitchen, mixing yourself a drink and it seems as if your roommate had the same idea.

“I usually don’t. It was a Christmas gift from Gahyeon and it has a slight hint of cinnamon which makes it tastier.”

Jisung doesn’t know yet that he will grow to like whiskey after tonight and will from now on forever think of you, when he takes a sip from the poisonous beverage.

“Ah, okay,” he says as if he’s an expert in alcohol—which he definitely isn’t. There are other addictive substances in his life he’s been a victim of, such as weed, nicotine and the way you’re looking at him when you believe he doesn’t notice.

“But not good enough,” you add, after taking a sip from the drink you’re currently experimenting on. “I grew up in a small and boring village, I learnt to just mix strong liquor with sugary stuff until it drowns out the bitter or smoky taste. Plus, you get drunk quicker.”

He nods again. Jisung doesn’t know if anything you say is true but he’d believe anything you say at this point. He’s had a beer and was actually on his way to the kitchen to get some snacks after he saw you talking to some tall guy.

Jisung has gotten his hopes up way too high once again. What made him believe that you would actually seek his attention?

Your Y/N. His smart, funny and absolutely hot roommate. You will for sure not spend your time at this party with your shy friend when there are tons of attractive men around here.

“Do you want one, Sungie?”

Fuck. He wants to decline. Alcohol is not a good idea right now. But he’d do anything whenever you call him by that nickname, so he nods.

You grab all the needed ingredients and start with the mixing process, while explaining the steps to him.

“The recipe is simple, similar to boba if you will but instead of tapioca pearls you use alcohol which is also your base. Then you add sugar, honey, ice and tea in that order.”

Jisung looks at you confused.

“Why this order? Wouldn’t it make more sense to pour the ice first because of physics?”

That is correct. However, there’s a meaning behind it.

“Maybe, Newton, but in this order it’s basically the s-h-i-t,” you say, clicking your tongue as you do the finishing touches.

“Ah, Shakespeare, I get what you did there,” he says before taking the drink in his hand.

The glasses clink when they collide and a moment later both of you take a sip from the unusual beverage.

“Woah– that’s fucking delicious,” Jisung compliments you, his voice increasing its volume sharply.

“Thank you.”

You’re the one to become shy now but Jisung doesn’t mind. He likes that side of you, too.

“You wanna go outside? Smoke a cigarette?” he asks.

You’re aware it’s not the brightest idea to do that while drinking but you’re still completely sober just like Jisung and the size of the drinks in your hands isn’t enormous. You’ll get a little tipsy, at best.

Jisung reaches for the cigarette box and bright pink lighter you guys hide under the bench outside. Your roommate stopped smoking some time in highschool and you’ve only ever been a person that occasionally uses cigarettes when attending parties.

Chan—being a med student who is about to become a real doctor in less than a few months—always scolds Jisung and you for sometimes smoking weed or cigarettes. So, maybe that’s why you tend to stow away the tobacco on the balcony and pick it up whenever you feel like it.

When Jisung hands you the box, you take one of the cigarettes and place it between your lips. The lighter—laying in his hand—comes closer to you and a second later the flame meets the tip of the gasper. You take a deep drag, exhaling the smoke a little after and it feels as if time stays still.

Jisung’s eyes are fixated on your mouth, watching every move you make but he manages to come back to reality, as he lights a cigarette for himself.

Giving your own a small nudge, you observe the ashes fall into the little metallic box you guys store outside as well. After all, an ashtray would be too obvious.

“Any success with Molly?” you ask Jisung.

You saw her earlier, she’s definitely around here and at the sight of her pretty outfit, you felt jealousy sting in your heart. Gosh. You’re pathetic. He hasn’t even talked to her. Chan invited her—not knowing she uses drugs since this is a dealbreaker for the older one considering any type of relationship—because she’s a somewhat friend of his.

Yes. Chan apparently knows the whole world. You saw him earlier, too. His hand swung around some girl and it seems as if your stupid little feelings are very susceptible for getting demolished today.

“Nah. She’s talking to some other dude. I might just give up,” Jisung says, letting his head hang low before tilting it up again to take the last drag from his cigarette.

He thinks the guy was Changkyun. Which also means she probably has gotten the pills she desires and won’t need Jisung anyway. He realises now how stupid the idea was. Molly has talked to him once or twice. In a conversation with Chan and her, his brain just grabbed the idea of developing a crush on her and ran with it.

Does he really have feelings for her, though?

Well, feelings are a little much to say nonetheless, considering he barely knows her.

But that’s not the only reason he’s giving up so easily and deep down he knows that.

And to you, he looks so sad. As if he’s not fighting anymore. Of course you know they’re not that close. But he seemed to like her and for now it doesn’t matter that you don’t. You just want him to be happy.

Yes, you could want him just for yourself as well but all you want is for Jisung to actually feel happiness.

“Sungie…” you start but he interrupts you right away.

“What? I’m just speaking the truth. My love life is even more hopeless than your statistics skills.”

“Ouch,” you cry, placing your hand on your chest as you pretend to be hurt.

“Sorry,” Jisung immeditaly says as he doesn’t seem to catch your sarcasm.

“No worries. That was actually funny,” you reassure him, before putting out your cigarette. Jisung does the same, as he starts laughing along.

“Are you okay, Sungie? You can be honest with me, you know.”

You don’t have to add what it’s about since he already knows.

“Yeah. I am. I swear,” he says but you’re hesitant to believe him.

“You sure?”

“Hm,” he assures you. “I prefer spending time with you anyway.”

Fuck.

No.

He doesn’t mean it that way, does he?

Jisung is just being friendly to you. That’s all. That’s just how he is.

“R-Really?”

A pink curtain appears on his squishy cheeks, decorating his face so prettily.

“Y-Yeah… unless you have somewhere to be and someone else–“

“No,” you interrupt him. “I prefer spending time with you, too.”

Your eyes meet his and the atmosphere from earlier while studying spreads through the air, captures you right here right now and it feels as if the tension is exploding.

Scooting a little closer, your gaze shifts between his brown eyes and beautiful lips. God. You’re doomed. So fucking doomed. Jisung is copying your movements and you’re just about to get even nearer, ready to throw your arms around his neck and press your mouth against his, when the unexpected happens.

The balcony door swings open, revealing some other friends of Chan’s that are apparently just going outside for a cigarette here as well. They ask if they may have interrupted something but since the two of you aren’t smoking anymore, Jisung and you decide to head inside. He excuses himself to the bathroom, whilst you wait for him in the corridor.

Shit.

It was just a matter of a few seconds and you would have almost kissed your roommate.

What a bad idea. You can’t even blame it on the booze because you’re actually not drunk at all, maybe a little tipsy but that would already be an exaggeration.

However, Jisung and you are world champions of bad ideas.

But—this could destroy everything, right?

Definitely.

No.

You’re not gonna kiss him in case a similar opportunity strikes again.

Or will you?

The cold splash of water against Jisung’s face helps him sober up a bit. He’s not drunk on alcohol but drunk on the way your eyes were practically glued to his lips.

Fuck. He has to slow down a bit.

You did actually look at him that certain way again, right?

It was not just his imagination, was it?

Shit.

Just when he thought he was finally over you the feelings are creeping back into the darkest parts of his brain.

Molly is here. He bought that stupid MDMA for her, spent his whole last months’ income on those pills and now he doesn’t even talk to her.

But everyone has always become invisible when you’re with him. You’re the spotlight. The only piece of art he wants to view in a gallery full of incredible paintings.

It’ll be okay. He’s sure. That’s nothing serious. You flirt with everyone anyway. Just like your other roommate Chan. Over all these years Jisung has wondered if his older friend and you would maybe one day become a couple or something but it seems as if he’s the chosen one.

Okay. Slow down, Jisung. Y/N is just being kind. That’s all.

Why is he such a fucking simp?

Well, maybe it can mostly be blamed on the fact that he is not experienced—at all. But also—who wouldn’t admire you to the fullest? You’re literally the best. Funny. Smart. Creative. Beautiful. These are just a few of your attributes that describe your whole perfect existence.

God. He’s fucking doomed.

Jisung takes another deep breath before he heads towards the door and exits the bathroom. A few meters away, he spots you standing in the hallway, back leaning against the wall as you scroll through your phone.

He takes a few steps towards where you are until he stands right in front of you.

Placing your phone back into your dress’s pockets—yes, pockets, you bought that one not that long ago and it’s your favourite piece of clothing of all time—you look at Jisung.

“Long time no see,” you joke.

He’s nervous. You can see it clearly on his face and you wonder if you are the cause for that. Jisung keeps staying there, as if he’s rooted on the spot. His eyes find your own again and in a matter of seconds that atmosphere is back.

Maybe it’s the lack of space in the cramped corridor or perhaps it’s the way he’s looking at you again. Both so innocent and needy at the same time.

You wonder, if he wanted to kiss you and if so, if he would capture the chance if it was served to him on a silver plate.

So, not caring about anything anymore, you decide to just give it another shot.

You’ve waited long enough and nothing has happened yet so in case you have misinterpreted everything so far, you can still backpedal. Definitely. Probably. At least you hope so.

But you can’t keep living this way. The signs are obvious and you have to seize the opportunity now.

With the way Jisung is staring at you again, gaze flickering between your eyes and lips, which grants you enough confidence.

“Sungie?”

His eyes widen at the sudden use of his favourite nickname.

“Hm?”

They look at your own now, unsure what you’re about to ask.

Okay.

You can do it, Y/N.

Maybe you shouldn’t go all in right away. Testing the waters by flirting sounds like a better option.

“You look pretty tonight. Even prettier than usual,” you compliment him, playing a little with your hair.

“You t-think… I’m pretty?”

You nod, looking at him with big doe eyes, “Hm. The prettiest.”

He chuckles until his lips form into a smirk.

“But that’s already you.”

Fuck. Okay. Earth to Y/N.

He’s flirting back, isn’t he?

Of course he is. But you can’t think straight anymore.

Jisung hasn’t even kissed you, hasn’t even touched you but he’s already under your skin, connecting the synapses in your brain in a way that your only thought becomes him and the way he’s staring at you.

“Don’t make me shy, Ji,” is all you can reply.

“No, I don’t think you’re the shy type. Not at all,” Jisung says, clicking his tongue.

He looks so hot like that. You believe the tiny corridor shrinks even further but it doesn’t. It’s just the effect his presence has on you—making you believe he’s the only person with you here right now.

“I am,” you reply. Because you actually are. You don’t know where he’s getting the idea from that you’re not. “Especially around pretty people like you.”

He’s the one to get flustered now, looking away for a second before he tilts his head, catching your gaze with his own.

“Don’t make me blush.”

“What if I do?” you tease him.

“Big mistake, Y/N, big mistake,” he whispers, as his thumb softly grazes over your cheek, the rest of his hand keeping you in place so that you look at him.

“Why is that?”

Jisung takes a deep breath. What he’s about to say might ruin your friendship, might change your whole relationship forever but there’s no purpose in going back anyway.

You seem to like him too. At least enough to be shamelessly flirting with him inside your apartment, not caring if anyone sees you, two of the hosts, practically almost on top of each other, taking off the other’s clothes with their eyes.

He takes another deep breath, before he’s gathered enough courage to speak out loud what’s on his mind.

“It makes me wanna kiss you…”

You softly bite your lower lip, looking at him as if you’re giving a hint that he should come closer to you. Jisung must be reading your mind since he places his lower arm right next to you, as he cages you between the wall and his body.

Fuck.

You’ve never realised how athletic he looks. Occasionally leaving his bedroom and hitting the gym with Chan seems to pay off.

He can’t hold back. You can’t hold back.

And neither of you wants to.

“You know what I wanted to do earlier while studying and also on the balcony?” you ask him, confusing him a little with the sudden question.

“W-What?”

“I wanted you to kiss me,” you admit.

“R-Really?”

You wet your lips a little by brushing with your tongue over them, as you make sure to keep your eyes on his.

“Hmm. I still want to, if I’m honest,” you add.

Shit. Jisung’s heart is about to explode out of his chest, he fears. Besides the loud music inside the apartment and all the people chatting, he’s sure you can hear the speed of his pulse.

“Are you sure?”

You’re glad he’s so considerate to ask once more, although you don’t want to talk anymore.

There’s just one thought on your mind by now.

It’s Jisung.

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.

So, you give him the final permission.

“Yes, Sungie. Kiss me, please.”

That’s when his lips practically crash into yours, a grunt leaving him when they align together. They stay pressed against each other, before you grab his face and start moving a little, setting a rhythm for the both of you.

Fuck. It’s actually happening.

Jisung is making out with you. His hot roommate.

Shit. It’s been some time that Jisung kissed someone and he prays you don’t notice.

But you don’t seem to. You’re completely occupied in the feeling of his mouth moving against yours and the way he welcomes your tongue in.

“You’re a great kisser, Sungie,” you praise him and you mean it. You’ve never kissed someone who is both so eager and passionate and at the same time makes you feel like the centre of attention just by the sensation of their tongue dancing with yours.

He wonders where all this will lead to. If you want more than just this. What you expect from him and if you will be disappointed once you find out how inexperienced he is.

Jisung knows that you’re very open when it comes to anything sexual—whether talking about it or bringing someone home with you.

At the same time, you’re worrying about something, too.

You have to make sure first that Jisung doesn’t regret this and anything that might follow.

Pulling away for a second, you can instantly notice the fear in his eyes. The scary look that you may have makes him believe that you have changed your mind, that he’s gone too far, that you regret what is happening right now.

But it’s something completely different.

“Wait– What about Molly?”

He scoffs.

“Don’t care about her– fuck,” he says before he goes in for another kiss but you stop him.

Jisung asked you for permission more than once and you want to make sure you’re really on the same page here.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Absolutely,” he repeats.

His mouth wanders over your jaw and neck, creating the prettiest route of flowers with his kisses and bites. God. This is even better than the making out session already was.

This all feels as if it’s meant to be. As if Jisung and you are meant for each other and it breaks your heart a little, knowing that at this time you’re not ready for something serious. But it doesn’t hold you back from letting destiny do its thing, when you allow your roommate to continue the assault on your skin, turning it into the prettiest artwork.

Very soon, you realise that you need more. Well, you’ve realised this a long time ago, if you’re honest. But it’s your body, your deepest animalistic desires, encouraging you now to make the next step.

You’re pretty sure Jisung won’t do it. He’s not as shy as half an hour ago or all those other times when there has been utmost sexual tension between the two of you but you highly doubt he’ll be confident enough to propose more.

Maybe he doesn’t even want more. Which would be fine, too.

But you’d rather regret something you did, than mourn over a lost chance, so you’ll just ask him.

You tilt your head, your glistening lips separated from his ear by a thin layer of air.

“Sungie…”

He stops for a second when he hears you speak, no, whimper his name and it sends a sensation right to his pants, as he feels them tighten around his slowly growing bulge.

“Yeah?”

And with the most innocent looking pout and the most sensual whine, you finally ask him what you’ve wanted to for so long.

“Can you fuck me, please?”

Is this really happening right now?

No. This can’t be. This is a dream. He’s sure.

But his doubts all vanish away, when you speak, no, cry out once more.

“Please, Sungie, I need you so bad…”

Jisung gulps. God. You look so needy. Just for him and him only. He could cum like a stupid teenager at the sole sight of your already fucked out face.

The way you’re literally begging him to touch you sends utmost arousal straight down to his cock and he prays that no one else at this party notices the tent that is forming inside his pants.

“A-Are you sure?”

Your eyes find his, as you nod.

“Hm, absolutely. But only if you want me, too,” you reassure him.

“I-I do, yeah. I want you,” he eagerly replies.

You catch your lower lip between your teeth, looking at him with dark eyes, utmost lust swirling around in them.

You need to be under him, on top of him, whatever. Now. Right now.

Never in your life before have you been so eager to be touched, to be kissed, to be fucked but that’s what he does just with that shy look on his face.

“Great,” you say. “You’ve got condoms or should I grab one from my room?”

Jisung doesn’t even realise that your question also indicates you want to go to his room. Not that he minds, though. He’d let you have your way with him everywhere.

“I– I’ve got condoms, yeah,” he answers with slightly broken words and you blame it on his shyness again.

God. He’s both so adorable and fucking hot.

How are you supposed to survive this?

And the consequences? Well, they aren’t present anymore. You can deal with whatever relationship this will evolve to tomorrow. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.

For now, you need his hands all over your body and his cock filling your pussy until the only thing you remember is his name.

“Cool. I’ll go to the bathroom real quick and meet you in your room, okay?”

Jisung nods before he heads to the meeting point, while you disappear behind the door of the bathroom.

Fuck.

A quick fresh up makes you somewhat come back to reality but also not really.

You wonder what Jisung is like in bed.

If he’s more submissive—similar to his shy personality—or dominant—perhaps doing a one hundred and eighty degree turn which makes sense as well.

What his favourite position is, if he likes to be on top of you or prefers you to be on top of him.

If he prefers soft or rough sex. If he likes to cum inside, on your body or all over your face, perhaps inside your mouth.

You’ll see.

God.

You won’t regret this. Jisung and you have an immense connection, wild chemistry, it’s insane.

A last check in the mirror will do and a minute later you leave the bathroom, heading straight to your friend’s room.

You knock, opening the door after he tells you to. After entering, you make sure to lock it.

Jisung is sitting on his bed. He looks so shy, it’s so freaking adorable.

Maybe you will take the lead, see if he likes to be in control too and after some teasing allow him to be the one in charge.

When you’re about to approach him, your phone vibrates. You’re gonna discard it, but make sure to skim through whatever message got sent to you in case it’s an emergency.

Gahyeon, your best friend, texted you who is also attending the party.

You quickly read the message.

[Gahyeon 👯‍♀️]: i’m in your room with the girl from my medieval literature class sorry babes will clean everything once we’re done <3

You would be annoyed about the situation but, then again, she is your best friend and would go to the stake for you, do anything and everything just to see you happy. You’ll forgive her.

In the meantime, Jisung is getting second guesses if you regret coming here and you observe it by the look in his eyes, so you know you need to reassure him immediately.

“It was Gahyeon. It seems as if she took her title as Y/N’s bestie a little for granted and decided to fuck her new fling in my room.”

“Oh,” is all he says.

“I sincerely hope that bitch changes the sheets,” you mumble under your breath.

Laying the device aside, you receive another message.

[Gahyeon 👯‍♀️]: have fun with Jisung 🤪

How does she know?!

It doesn’t even matter anyway.

You’re here with Jisung.

Your roommate. Who is currently waiting for you to join him on his bed which you immediately do. The mattress shifts, when you plop down next to him.

“What’s on your mind?” you straight up ask when you notice his thoughts running free.

“Can I kiss you again?”

Who are you to decline this offer?

A few seconds later, Jisung and you are back again at what you were doing in the corridor not that long ago.

His lips feel so soft against your own, completely opposite to how rough the movements have become. Not that you mind—at all.

Your tongues are practically experts at being entangled with each other and taking the lead for now, you climb on his lap, receiving a surprised reaction from him.

Jisung thinks, no, he knows you look like a fucking goddess like this. Literally perfect. And he’s the chosen one that you’re on top of.

Fuck.

Sooner or later you will find out, how inexperienced he is.

He doesn’t really talk about sex with you but mainly because there’s nothing to talk about. Sure, he’s had pretty girls kissing him before, even straddling his lap like you’re doing now—although none of them can compete with you in the slightest—but that’s it.

Maybe that’s why he’s a little startled when you suddenly start grinding against him, letting out a desperate whimper when you feel the friction—your panty covered pussy gliding over his growing bulge.

And the sound of your helplessness is even more perfect than all those whimpers of yours that he’s imagined in his head at night.

Your hand is slowly grazing over his thighs, before it wanders further and stops right at his crotch. You start palming him through the fabric of his pants, his erection already prominent and Jisung feels bigger than you would have imagined him to be.

Which you have done quite a few times. Especially whenever you have been alone at night and couldn’t sleep.

Fuck. You sincerely hope he’ll fit. But then again, he’s gonna stretch you out so nicely, you’re dying to try more.

Apart from all that, Jisung is your type. One hundred percent. Both looks and personality wise and the fact you already have a stable base because of your almost four year long friendship, makes you feel even more attracted to him.

You use a little more pressure now, squeezing his cock through his jeans and he lets out the prettiest moan your ears have ever witnessed.

God. There’s really nothing better than the whimpers of a man.

“Y/N– wait,” Jisung says all of a sudden, catching your hand with his own.

Shock washes over your face.

Shit.

Maybe he regrets it. Perhaps because of Molly. Or he simply doesn’t want you, either doesn’t want to destroy the friendship or generally isn’t attracted to you so he rather stops before it’s too late.

Your hand leaves its place then, as you look at him with scared eyes.

“Did I do something wrong? Was I too fast? I’m sorry I–“

“No. No. It’s– I– fuck, this is embarrassing,” he cuts you off.

Okay. So, maybe it’s not about Molly and neither about you but more a question of how he’s imagined the time with you.

Possibly, Jisung actually prefers to be the one in charge but is—ironically—too shy to propose it. Perhaps, he prefers to be the dominant one, make you crumble underneath him, show you what your body wants and needs.

“Do you want to take the lead instead? I can be submissive, too,” you offer.

No, I’d like quite the opposite of you being submissive.

“No, it’s–“

Okay. Then it’s not that.

But what is he so scared of?

You’ll have to remind him that you won’t judge him for what is plaguing his poor heart.

“Whatever is on your mind, Sungie, won’t change anything between us, okay?”

He sighs, “Promise?”

“Promise,” you say with the warmest smile.

He exhales, before taking a deep breath.

“I’m– I’m a virgin.”

You look at him with wide eyes, the surprise plastered all over your face.

“Oh…”

Jisung’s gaze sinks again. Fuck. He shouldn’t have confessed. But then again, you would have noticed sooner or later anyway.

Well. At least he got to make out with you. That’s a dream come true already. What a pity it wasn’t enough for more.

“Fuck– I knew this would be a problem– I am aware o-of the guys you bring home with you and your ex boyfriends and–“

“Hey, Sungie, slow down.” You stop him now. Shit. He’s definitely gotten insecure because of your reaction. You should have thought this more through. “I was just surprised. That’s all. This doesn’t make a difference to me. We can go at your pace or just stick to making out.”

You still want him?

“But… you could have… could have taken a hot guy to your room instead of being with a nerd like me.”

You scoff, “What do you mean? I’m literally on top of the hottest guy at this party right now.”

Jisung sighs again.

“Y/N… Don’t say that.”

“Why not? I’m just saying what I think,” you explain.

“You’ll make me believe that you actually mean it,” he says and the sadness in his voice, forced out of him by all the insecurities, breaks your heart into a thousand pieces.

“I do. I mean all of it. You’re incredibly attractive, Sungie. My type, if you will. If all, I was just surprised that you’re inexperienced, considering how funny and handsome you are. Who’d turn someone like you down?”

There are too many thoughts sprinting through his head.

He is your type. Your fucking type and you’re just telling him this now.

And in addition to that, he has to clearify something.

“I– there were possibilities but… I have waited for when it finally feels right…”

If Jisung is completely honest to himself, he knows exactly why he turned the other offers down.

Unfortunately, he’s had the biggest crush on his roommate for God knows how long and maybe that whole thing with Emma or what her name was has just been a trick of his brain to finally get over you.

“Does it feel right with me though?”

He nods, finding your hand with his own.

“One hundred percent. I don’t trust anyone as much as you.”

That’s pure honesty towards you. Otherwise he wouldn’t have told you about the one kilogram package of MDMA pills chilling in the box on his shelf. He hasn’t forgotten about them, whereas the other Molly has escaped his mind a long time ago.

“Do you want to continue, Sungie?”

He nods, “Yes. Always.”

A minute later you’re back at the previous scene—you’re grinding on top of him, getting a little friction as your mouth is attached to his. You start palming him through his pants again, feeling him grow bigger and bigger with every squeeze.

“Y/N…”

God. His voice sounds so desperate you fear you will cum untouched.

“Yeah?”

His next words are a little muffled but you still catch them.

“T-Touch me…”

You need to tease him. You can’t resist.

“What was that?” you ask with a smirk.

Suddenly, he grabs your face and it’s in this moment that you realise how drunk on desire he is.

“Touch me again, please.”

You chuckle, “Of course, baby.”

When he’s calmed down from the sudden use of the petname, Jisung is taking his shirt off, a smirk erupting on his face when he catches you staring at his firm chest, defined abs and those arms. God. And his waist. You’ve never known how hypnotising his waist is.

Once you stop gawking at him, your hand comes in contact with the belt, fumbling with it before it lands somewhere on the floor. His zipper gets pulled down next, before you help him out of his pants. Now only in his boxers, the separation of your hand and his length is thinner, making you get a better impression of how big he actually might be.

“Can I…?”

Jisung nods, “Please.”

In one swift motion, you slide his underwear down, discarding the fabric wherever the pants are. When his hardened cock springs free, you fear you might start drooling all over him. Fuck. He’s huge.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

You can’t hold your thoughts back. It’s impossible. Jisung gets nervous now, not quite able to define your reaction and you would notice, if you weren’t so busy staring at his pretty cock. He’s definitely way above average, probably the biggest you’ve had. Apart from that, he’s insanely pretty, too, as well as painfully hard and the tip is already glistening with precum.

Fuck. Despite the fact he’s very inexperienced, it makes you believe that he wants you just as much as you want him.

“Sungie– you’re so big, just know you’ll have to prepare me well so I’ll be able to take you.”

But Jisung gets nervous again when the words click in his head.

How the fuck is he supposed to prepare you when he’s never touched a pussy before?

“Y-Yeah– o-okay…” is all he’s able to let out in broken syllables.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” you reassure him, looking back at him. “It’s about you first, yeah? And if you want to continue after that, I’ll teach you.”

At least three pieces of information in one sentence that almost make Jisung faint.

You called him baby again.

You’re gonna take care of him first.

You’re gonna teach him how to pleasure your body.

Fuck.

He could cum at the spot but that’s the last thing he wants. Not before you’ve touched him. Maybe it’s a good thing that he’s jerking off—mostly too you—on a very regular basis, after all. Otherwise he would have risked premature ejaculation and that’s the last thing he wants to happen.

“Y-You would be okay– if… if I don’t make you–“

“Of course,” you say. “I would never pressure you. Besides that, I’m much more of a giver anyway.”

And apart from that, you just really want to suck him off. You’ll probably explode if you don’t.

There’s another detail he notices now.

You don’t seem to care about what you get from this.

How are you real?

Jisung is head over heels for you. Well, he has been before all this but you’re a dream come true, even better than that.

Where the hell have you been hiding this side from him?!

You wrap your hand around his shaft, making sure to keep eye contact throughout the movements. Until you realise how very much naked he is and how much clothing you’re still wearing. Deciding to correct that difference, you pull your dress up, throwing it somewhere on the carpet in front of Jisung’s bed.

“Wow…” he lets out when he sees you in your underwear. Not a second passes by, that you’re already unclasping your bra and getting rid of that fabric, too.

His eyes widen when he sees your breasts on full display for the first time.

“Touch them, if you like.”

Jisung doesn’t need to be told twice. His hands come up to cup them, pinching the sensitive buds between two fingers each. You sigh, letting your head fall back, as you allow the pleasure to take over you.

“You’re… pretty,” he says and he does want to say more but Jisung is already deep in trance by now. It leaves him breathless how much you react to him, already arching your back and he doesn’t even do much.

You’re not forgetting about him, though, by now stroking his length with a steady pace. He feels rock hard against your fingers and palm and you can’t wait to taste him.

“Sungie?”

He looks at you, big doe eyes telling you how captured he is by your sensual movements. “Yeah?”

“Can I suck you off? Please…”

“Yes, of course, please.”

It’s so cute how you’re begging so desperately for each other. You’ve never felt or been so confident with someone else before—it just feels so natural. As if you’ve been doing this for years with him.

You crawl off his lap then, before you gesture to him to get a little comfortable as you scoot down and place both your legs beside his. Leaning forward, you’re at eye level with his cock now, your hand still pumping him eagerly.

“You’re such a good boy, Sungie.”

His eyes close shut when the praise makes it to his ears and he wants to calm down for a second but he simply can’t.

Not when your mouth is already wrapping around his tip, giving it a few kitten licks. A sensual stripe along his shaft follows until you get back to your previous position and take him into your mouth—a few centimetres first, until your head goes down further, trying to fit as much as possible. Whatever doesn’t, gets a little more attention from your hand.

Your head is bobbing up and down and he feels so good inside you. Slurping sounds are echoing through the room, when you start drooling all over him. You hum in eagerness, sending vibrations through his length and whole body.

Fuck.

You seem to enjoy this a little too much.

And you do. You can tell by the way your pussy walls are clenching around nothing, the arousal by now practically trickling through your underwear but this doesn’t hold you back from continuing.

And Jisung is already close. Dangerously close.

“Fuck– princess–“

The name just slips out of his mouth with no warning. Jisung has always wanted to call you that. Princess. His princess. But it fits. You like it more than you should. After all, it’s one of your favourites.

One of his hands is placed on your head now, softly stroking your hair.

And Jisung can’t get enough of this view. He’s never imagined those dreams that have been filled with his darkest desires would ever come true. The way you’re looking up at him, mouth stuffed full with his cock, as you’re triggering your gag reflex when taking him in even deeper—you in fact look like a goddess like this and Jisung is by now convinced you actually are one.

He won’t be able to keep going that much longer but it doesn’t matter. Jisung truly hopes it won’t be over after this—he’s dying to find out what it would feel like to be buried inside your cunt but he knows he’s already the happiest man on this planet with what has happened so far.

With the way your eyes are on his own, you encourage him with a little nod but no words—since you’re not able to speak right now—as well as with the motions of softly massaging the sides of his stomach that he can let go whenever, it’s okay.

A few seconds later, you feel him twitch inside your mouth, his cock shooting thick ropes of cum down your throat. You continue with your movements, swallowing every last drop until he’s empty, as he calls out your name under broken moans.

Letting go of him, you get back in a seating position, looking at him.

“That was… wow…”

You chuckle, reaching for a strand of his hair to tug it behind his ears.

“You wanna continue, Sungie? Or do you need a break for a minute?”

He tells you that a short moment of rest will be alright and you get the bottle of water from his desk that has been there since your study date earlier. You let him drink first, before you do the same, thinking it’s not a bad idea to get hydrated after having alcohol earlier.

You discard the beverage again, crawling back into his lap.

Jisung’s hands come in contact with your breasts again and you soon realise that he seems to enjoy that a lot.

“Princess…”

God. That petname is practically dragging you to your knees of you weren’t already.

“Yeah?”

“Can I… uhm–“

You know what he means. But there’s a hidden emotion in his eyes. Of course, you’ll have to guide him through whatever is going to follow next. Jisung probably wants to return the pleasure you granted him but he’ll need a little help and, even more importantly, encouragement.

“Hey, baby, it’s fine. No need to be nervous, yeah?”

He shyly nods, but it’s not enough for him to gain confidence. Your expectations are probably insane. He knows how experienced you are by how openly you talk about your encounters so the bar is set very high.

“What if I… disappoint you?”

Your hand wanders to his cheek, softly stroking it.

“You could never. Besides that, it’s normal that you’re not perfect at it from the beginning, okay? Lower your expectations a little. I’m sure I will like it nonetheless,” you tell him.

“But… why?”

“Because I’m doing this with you and…” you pause for a second to sheeply chuckle, “everything you do is perfect. Because you are the one doing it.”

He smiles at you. Jisung is too shy to say anything else even though he wants to add more.

“You wanna keep going?”

He nods, “Yes.” And that's when the typical Jisung confidence washes over him. “Teach me how to touch and pleasure you, baby.”

A few minutes later—after another makeout session because it seems as if Jisung’s new favourite activity is kissing you and you feel the same about him—you find yourself on your back, legs sprawled for your roommate. Jisung is in a similar position to the one you were in prior.

You reach for his hand, guiding it towards your panties. Telling him to graze a little over them, he does exactly that. When he finds you drenched, arousal practically soaking through the lace material, his head starts spinning again.

“Take them off, if you want to,” you encourage him.

Jisung slips his fingers under the fabric, pulling them down. His eyes widen once again when he sees you bare naked, totally eager just for him. You spread your pussy lips with your own fingers now, showing him how ready you are, as you play a little with yourself. Your other hand is massaging one of your breasts and although it's not that long ago that he came undone, Jisung can already feel his cock stiffening again.

His hand gets closer to your own and you reach for it again, dragging two of his fingers over your wet folds, smearing your arousal all over them. With your help, he’s grazing over your sensitive nub next and that’s when your eyes meet his.

“You feel this here, Sungie?”

He nods.

“Y-Yeah…” You set a pace and movements for his fingers, teaching him how to touch you there.

He chuckles a little, before he speaks, “It was easier to find than expected. Why are all men complaining about it?!”

You giggle along. The duality of this man is unbelievable. One second he’s your shy, nerdy, stoner roommate and a moment later he becomes that bratty menace that wants to get a reaction out of you at all cost for the sole sake of satisfying you.

“Try starting with slow circles, that’s how I like it,” you advice him.

Jisung follows your command, touching you the way you enjoy but you soon realise he’s still a little too much in his head.

“Don’t concentrate on making me cum, concentrate on the moment, yeah?”

He nods, trying to do as he’s told. It takes him a few minutes but at some point he gets the hang of it, playing with your clit, while you’re clenching around thin air.

You need more. Now. Right now.

Besides that, Jisung will really have to stretch you well so that you’re able to have him inside you.

“You can…” you start but decide to show him instead, as you guide one of his fingers into your hole. Your walls immediately clench around it and Jisung lets out a few curse words under his breath.

“Add another one,” you encourage him and he instantly follows your command.

He doesn’t need to be told about the next step, Jisung starts thrusting his fingers into you on his own. You arch your back again, as you—under mumbled sentences—tell him to bring his thumb back to your clit.

“Like this, baby?”

You hastily nod, trying to not lose your mind completely when he calls you by that name.

The sensation is occupying your whole body by now and you want to ask him for more but you’re unsure if he’s ready for that yet.

But fuck it.

Just gonna give it a try.

“Sung–“

Your words get cut off.

“Yeah, baby?”

You sigh, letting a moan follow.

“Mouth– tongue– please.”

Despite his lack of experience, Jisung knows exactly what you need. He may not be educated in practice but he for sure knows how to pleasure you in theory.

His tongue takes the place of his thumb next, swirling over your clit the way you showed him. You taste amazing. Jisung will never get enough of you, you’ve ruined him for anyone else.

“You’re so wet… fuck…” he grunts.

You are. You believe you’ve never been this wet before, if you’re honest.

But you need even more. You just can’t get enough of him.

“Spit, Sungie.”

He chuckles, admiring your fragile figure, completely under his spell.

“Hm, you like it messy, don’t you?”

You nod.

A string of saliva hits your exposed cunt, running down over your clit and towards your entrance, where his fingers are still pumping in and out of you.

“I think I like it, too,” he whispers with a husky voice and the sound of it almost lets you tip over the edge.

Jisung is fast to bring his tongue back to its previous position, passionately making out with your sensitive nub.

“Hm, you’re so good for me, princess.”

Where the hell is this coming from?

Both the dominance and the sudden use of the nickname again?

“Sungie– I–“

His eyes find yours and you’re the one to admire the view now with your last remaining sanity, until you can’t hold back anymore. Your thighs start shaking, intuitively bringing your legs together but he doesn’t let you. Jisung is still vigorously scissoring you open with his digits, when you reach your sweet relief, making a mess all over his fingers.

His name spills from your lips like a mantra, as you hold his wrist, gesturing to him to stop once you’re coming down from your high. After pulling out of your throbbing hole, he guides his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. Jisung lets out a satisfied moan, when he tastes your juices on his skin.

“You wanna continue, princess? Or do you need a break for a minute?”

You giggle when you realise he’s copying your words from earlier.

Faster than you’re able to reply, he’s already bringing the water towards your mouth, watching you gulp down the liquid.

“Are you sure this is the first time you’re doing this?”

Jisung chuckles and you witness a red layer appear on his squishy cheeks again.

“Yes…”

Once he puts the bottle away, still sitting between your legs, you look at him until your gaze shifts down to his cock—he’s painfully hard again, the tip leaking precum.

“Do you want to… keep going?”

He nods.

“Wait– I’ll get a condom–“

“Ji, wait,” you say, grabbing him by the wrist.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Jisung adds in a shy voice.

God. No. This is absolutely not what you meant.

“I was just about to suggest… to go raw. I recently got tested, I’m clean, and I’m also on birth control. Of course, only if you want to–“

“Yes. One hundred percent yes, baby.”

You smile before you pull him closer to attach your lips with his own. For some reason the kiss starts playing little, evil games with your heart but you decide to ignore it for now.

“Is there… a certain position you’d like to try?”

That infamous mischevious smirk erupts on his beautiful face again.

“Uhm… your favourite?”

You ignore the small butterflies gathering together in your stomach. Calm down, Y/N. It’s just Jisung. Your roommate.

But despite his lack of experience he knows exactly what he’s doing. You explain to him what you prefer and Jisung is afraid he’ll start drooling at the idea of it—an image he’s head in his head so many times before, his cock buried deep inside you, a stunning view of your tits just for him, as your legs are thrown over his shoulder.

Fuck.

He can’t believe yet another one of his dreams is actually coming true.

You correct your posture, spreading your legs as you start playing with your pussy again. A seductive look is on your face and that’s all the reassurance Jisung needs to scoot closer.

His fingers are at your entrance again, replacing your own, playing a little with you, as his other hand is giving his cock a few more strokes.

“Sungie… please…”

You can’t wait anymore. You just can’t.

“Keep begging for me, baby,” he says.

Where the hell did he learn this?

When has he gotten so fucking confident?

Jisung knows it’s the effect you have on him. You make him a little less shy solely because he feels so comfortable around you and knows for a fact that he can trust you entirely.

“Please, fuck me, please–“

He aligns the tip with your hole, before he pushes a few centimetres in. You immediately clench around him but tell him to keep going, you’ll soon get used to the feeling. Once you’re adjusted to his size and he’s pushed himself all the way in, you tell him to start moving.

“You feel so good inside me, you’re so big, Sungie.”

Just a minute in, the both of you come to the realisation that neither of you will last long but that’s okay. Jisung is pleasuring you so good that you’re sure this isn’t the last time you’ll let him fuck you.

“Right there– Sungie– hm–“

The steady pace from the beginning has evolved to a faster one by now, the clumsy movements he started with have gotten a little more coordinated.

“Fuck– how are you so fucking good at this, baby?” you ask him.

Your legs are already placed on his shoulders, changing the angle perfectly so that he’s able to hit that spot. Eyes rolling back, you let him take the lead when you realise he’s confident enough in his movements and Jisung is sure he’s never enjoyed anything as much as that.

The way you’re lying underneath him—caged between the mattress and his strong body, allowing him to be the one in charge, trusting him completely and probably forgetting this is the first time he’s doing this. But after all, you’ve taught him quite well and still do, when you praise him with your words that turn more and more into babbling.

“You like that, princess?”

You nod, by now a whimpering mess under him, as you let out a few words that don’t make any sense. You’re begging for more, telling him to never ever stop again, as the only two syllables you seem to remember are his name.

Jisung is bucking his hips into you, rutting in and out of your squelching cunt and you can’t withstand it anymore—after a high-pitched whine follows silence interrupted by giggles, when your legs start shaking and your second orgasm takes all over your body.

Fireworks are rushing through your veins, your whole system is driven by ecstasy, when you cum around his cock, squirting all over it but Jisung doesn’t stop. He slows down a little, when he sees your fucked out face and all the cute little pleas that spill from your lips. Some instructions make it out audible, guiding him and yourself through your climax.

Once you’ve come down from your high, you give him a sign to continue. You want your cunt to milk his cock empty, watch the pretty face again that he makes when he reaches that sweet relief. Rutting into you at a merciless speed again, Jisung feels himself twitch inside you.

With your last energy, you tell him to pull out, admitting you’d enjoy it the most if he came all over your body. He does exactly what he’s told—after all this has been one of his favourite fantasies about you for years—stroking his length a few last times, before he spills his seed all over your tits and stomach.

For a solid minute, you stare at each other, erupting in shy little giggles when the post-climax realisation hits you.

Jisung gets up from the bed, grabbing a towel from his wardrobe with which he cleans himself first before he approaches you and takes care of your limp body.

Fuck. The sheets are drenched. There’s a puddle underneath you but he’ll take care of it later.

Sitting a little afar from the mess you made, you look at him, trying to find the words for what you’re about to say.

“I am completely honest with you. This was the best sex I’ve had in my whole life,” you confess.

“Mine too,” Jisung says.

“Sungie…”

He just now realises how little sense his sentence made in comparison to what you were referring to.

“Oh– well– wait, I meant that you put the standards and expectations way too high, princess.”

You smile.

“Good thing you know where to find me, right?”

You want this to happen again. You really do. You’re unsure if Jisung is into something more casual since this is what your life situation fits the most right now. Despite those feelings for him…

Is there regret?

Not at all.

But you’re scared. Scared what this will evolve to.

Maybe you will just see what the future holds. You’ve always felt comfortable and safe around him. No need to rush things. You’re sure this can become something serious very soon, once the both of you are more aware of your feelings for each other.

❤️ AUTHOR’S NOTE: Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider reblogging it and sharing your thoughts with me—there are no limits, from keyboard smashes to long essays, every kind comment is dearly appreciated and the number one motivation for authors to keep going. Have a nice day!

© j-0ne25 2023 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited

An eye for an eye.

assassin!hyunjin x journalist!yn. slow burn. suggestive and angsty at times. she/her pronouns. 7.4k.

it is perhaps the most decisive night of your life. what are the odds that at the same time and place, it happens to be hyunjin’s too?

warnings: mention of alcohol, guns, bruises and injuries. brief talks of grief.

a.n: this is prompted by how hot villain hyunjin looks in the ate era 😭 it was supposed to be a drabble and i didn’t plan on it to be this long.. but i hope you’ll enjoy reading tehee it’s different from anything i’ve ever written so please feedback would be so appreciated,, muah muah 😘❣️

A ruby red lipstick. 

Your first childhood dream was to become a journalist, but not the complacent, obedient kind. You wanted to shed light on uncovered events, dig into the raw truth with your claws, and hold it up for the entire world to witness. You craved justice. You never believed in letting things flow their way, like a current that morphs into a torrent, destroying everything in its path.

No, you were a dam, forcing the water to change its trajectory. After all, you have always believed that all it took for change to happen was a trigger, a single flicker that would in turn burst into flames.

You wished to be it.

It was hard to grow into this specific kind of journalist, though. Not because you lacked drive, passion, or discipline. Especially not because you weren’t curious enough, brave enough. You were Seoul Press’s youngest and brightest reporter, after all.

But in a highly competitive field, you still needed your big story, your breakthrough which would put you on the radar of esteemed awards that all journalists venerate. Though you deemed it much easier to obtain a Pulitzer than to squelch your heart’s quest for truth, justice, and most importantly, in an unpredictable curb that life threw at you— revenge.

Your second childhood dream was to put on ruby red lipstick. Your thirteen-year-old self deemed it the ultimate show of power and confidence, each time you saw your aunt wearing one to her most important meetings. You dreamed of the day you could put it on as well, on your way to uncover the truth. 

And tonight, as you applied your ruby lipstick precisely, gliding the vibrant color across your lips, you felt nerves tighten like thorny vines in your stomach, puncturing your tender skin and leaving you a bloodied mess from within. 

Tonight, in your black gown and your ruby lipstick, in San Heo’s mansion, your country’s most prominent presidential candidate, and the man who ruined your life, it seemed like you were about to achieve both dreams at once.

… 

The clock hand points nine on Hyunjin’s Tank Louis Cartier watch. He throws a fleeting glance at the Victorian watch, before eyeing the people mingling at San Heo’s party. 

He knows all of the guests, memorized their faces and their habits. He knows the school where they drop off their kids and what bar they frequent every Sunday. He memorized their mannerisms and antics, knows what set them off and what did not.

This is the fruit of two years of work, after all.

He knows exactly why everyone is here, tonight particularly. Three politicians’ families and friends gathered as a show of power, to prove that they weren’t afraid of whoever’s been forcing politicians to come clean about their crimes for the past three months.

In the least glamorous manner, at that too, to put it delicately—ten bloodied tapes sent to the country’s most prominent media channels, where ministers and heads of multinationals are bound by ropes to a chair, recalling their most heinous crimes: money laundering and embezzlement for most, theft and murder for some.

The latter is Jung Cho’s case, San’s most successful competitor for the presidency, who has also mysteriously vanished from the police’s grasp since the release of his tape. No one can get a hold of poor Jung Cho anymore. 

Hyunjin smirks lightly to himself. His knuckles seem to have healed well since he last dislocated Jung Cho’s jaw. Well, that was before he shot him through the roof of his mouth.

The golden cuffs of Hyunjin’s Versace blazer reflect the light of the dangling crystal chandeliers, and he runs a weary hand through his black locks. He never chose to gel them back; he wasn’t one for structure, preferring the feeling of his silky strands brushing against his fingers. 

His eyes catch those of San’s across the room, who tips his glass of whiskey towards Hyunjin—a job well done, he reads in San’s stare. Hyunjin raises his red wine back, before settling it across the table once more.

It is a boring half an hour that awaits Hyunjin.

That is until he sees you.

You weren’t here two minutes ago, Hyunjin is sure of this. And, judging by the way you are leisurely sipping your sparkling water, your eyes gliding across the room in search of someone in particular, you had just stepped foot into the party.

Fashionably late, if he were to add.

But that is none of Hyunjin’s concern. What intrigues him the most is that your face isn’t familiar to him. That isn’t normal.

You weren’t supposed to be here, then.

Who are you?

As if hearing his question, your gaze locks onto his. He cocks an eyebrow at you; you mirror the gesture like clockwork.

Thus ensues an intense game of eye contact. You don’t break away from his gaze until two minutes later, a light scoff escaping your lips that he can discern even from afar. You then turn to look at San, your eyes morphing into something fiercer, more determined— a sniper finally locking eyes on its target.

Hyunjin feels a slight headache growing at the base of his temple. He downs his drink, before taking long strides towards you.

It’s official, you’re going to be his nuisance for the night.

27 minutes.

“Care to dance?” Hyunjin inquires as he materializes before you, a hand extended towards your body.

“Pardon?”

“A dance? To the lovely music we are hearing right now?” 

“I know what you mean,” you roll your eyes, leaning your body against the chair right next to you. Hyunjin’s eyes glaze over your legs peeking through the high slit of your dress. Had it been another setting, the sight of your black sheer tights would have made this night turn much differently.

Your voice dispels his thoughts like morning fog. “I mean why are you asking me?”

“Because I’m bored.”

“How flattering,” you grin sarcastically and Hyunjin feels the smallest urge to return your smile, although he knows it isn’t genuine.

“I know. Shall we?”

Your gaze flees to San once again, seemingly debating something in your head before finally sighing.

In the few seconds of scrutiny you consecrate to his boss, Hyunjin’s gaze lingers on your bright red lipstick, and the way you tuck your lip slightly into your mouth as you ponder.

A beautiful nuisance, he corrects himself.

“Fine,” You place your manicured hand in his in response.

“What’s your name?” he asks, as he settles one hand atop your waist. The fabric of your black dress is too thin, he can feel the heat emanating from your body seeping through his palm.

Focus. You need to discover who she is.

“Julia,” your hand settles atop his shoulder, while the other entwines with his. “And you?”

“Sam. What are you doing here?” he quickly inquires.

You shake your head slightly, gliding your hand from the base of his neck to the end of his shoulder.

“Isn’t it my turn to ask you a question?”

Hyunjin tilts his head curiously at you, before smirking slightly— “Yes ma’am.”

“What do you work for?”

“I’m Mr. Heo’s political adviser.”

“You’re quite young, though,” you note.

“I know.”

“And I don’t see you by his side a lot.”

“I work in the background, mostly. I don’t do well with the cameras.” He spins you around, picking up speed as the orchestra picks up the violin. “How do you know Mr. Heo?”

“I’m Kang’s niece, you know, Mr. Heo’s economic adviser? Uncle Kang is ill, and my father is out of the country so both of them chose not to come.”

Hyunjin’s memory faintly brushes off Kang’s single niece, completing her architectural studies in Paris’ Sorbonne. 

“C’est beau à Paris?” Is it beautiful in Paris?

You don’t even blink— “Même magnifique, tu devrais visiter.” Marvelous even, you should visit. 

Checks out.

“I’ll hold you on to that offer,” he says, before spinning you around, your chest settling across his back. Hyunjin ignores how his heart skips a singular beat at your proximity.

“So, what are you doing here?” he asks, his lips tantalizingly close to the shell of your ear. He watches as your chest rises once before your airy voice floods his ear.

“Networking, though you didn’t quite allow me to speak to anyone but you,” you tease slightly.

“I fail to see what an architect has to do with politicians,” he muses, as he sways you gently from left to right.

“I want to oversee the building of Jamsil Sports Complex.”

“So you’re using your father for work connections?” he taunts and you swivel around, placing both your hands on his shoulders before interlinking your fingers behind his neck, caging him within the notes of your perfume.

“Is it a crime?” your voice is airy, too airy, everything you say sounds rehearsed, you don’t seem intimidated by him, by this setting, as opposed to how a newly graduated student, one who grew up away from her father’s world should.

“Depends on your definition,” he counters.

“Do you regard it as such?”

Hyunjin’s gaze flickers all over yours. He senses something urgent in your gaze, as if you are pushing for more, beyond what this simple question entails.

When he remains quiet for a tad too long, you let your hands drop by your body, taking a step away from him.

“I need to go,” you say. He grabs your wrist instantly. “Where to?”

“Bathroom.” And with that, you quickly turn around and walk away, leaving behind notes of your floral perfume and ghosts of your ruby lips.

Hyunjin steals a glance at his clock. 09:13 p.m.

He drags a hand across his forehead wearily. He won’t let you ruin this night.

17 minutes. 

You are washing your hands obsessively in the bathroom, lost in thought as you gaze at your reflection, all blurry from your unfocused eyes. You only turn off the water once your skin starts to sting from the force of your touch. 

The orange-scented soap doesn’t seem to get rid of the stench of blood. 

A week ago. 

“I don't understand your obsession with Mr. Heo,” Christopher Bang calmly removed his glasses, placing them next to the shiny placate reading ‘Editor in Chief of Seoul Press’.

“He is corrupt.”

“As all politicians are,” he spoke matter of factly, and it angered you how unfazed he seemed before your, you admit, far-fetched request. 

“You don’t understand, sir. He’s different.”

“Did he do something to you?” Chris asked, leaning back against his chair. You felt exposed all of a sudden, like a flower left bare without its stem. 

“Would my answer change anything?” You inquired tentatively. 

“It would explain many things, yes actually,” he got up from his chair, before sitting on the one right across from you. “You are a talented journalist, Yn.”

“Thank you—“

“But you are utilizing the company’s resources to conduct your personal investigation on San Heo.” 

He knew. 

“You’ve been working on his case from the day you joined our media. Which was exactly 389 days ago. I know that you’ve managed to uncover quite some dirt, one that would make an explosive case if you get more information. That’s why I turned a blind eye to everything you did because I trust your skills and integrity.” 

You remained silent.

“But now, you’re asking me to completely disregard my deontology by finding a way for you to break into Mr. Heo’s mansion. That is a crime.”

“Not break in. I want an invite to his party, it is the first time he organized one in his home, probably the last time, it is my only chance to—”

“Details,” he waves a hand disinterestedly in the air, cutting you off. “Your intentions aren’t to mingle with politicians, it is to dig in his office and find something of substance. While I admire the lengths of what you want to go through, I must stop you here.” He leveled his eyes with yours. “This can land you in jail, he is the most important man in our country right now.”

“What if I tell you he did something to me, that he ruined my life? Would you help me then?” your voice was hoarse, tears pricked your eyes as you tried your best not to avert your gaze. You hated displays of weakness, despised them even more in professional settings. 

“What did he do?” 

You bristled at the question, ugly memories flashing before your eyes like a blinding light, your body begging you to flee away from this question and the heavy response it entailed.

Still, you spoke. 

Christopher remained silent as you recalled what happened on your doomsday, the night in which your world ceased to spin, and simultaneously, the reason why you joined his company, to begin with. When your sniffles subsided a few minutes later, he gently handed you a napkin, a silent invitation to wipe away the tears that had escaped.

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his weary face before finally speaking. 

“I’ll give you the invite tomorrow. Say that you are Kang’s niece, her name is Julia. She went to Paris for architectural studies, and that you are back for a vacation. Kang is ill these days, he won’t attend the party, and his brother is out of the country, no one will question you.”

“How do you know this?” 

“Because I know them,” he toyed with his lower lip lightly before a tiny smile drew upon it. “An eye for an eye, right? I’m Kang’s cousin. I changed my last name because I didn’t wish to deal with them anymore.” 

“So Bhang isn’t your real last name?”

“No.” He ran his thumb across his lower lip, seemingly debating adding something. “San’s office is on the far end of the third floor.” 

You heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t get yourself killed.”

13 minutes. 

It was one thing to stare at photographs of San seared behind your reddened eyelids or to stand at the far end of his press conferences. It was another to step foot into his mansion, to stand amidst powerful people who are capable of ruining your life had they known of your motives. 

But you didn’t have time to dwell on your personal feelings. Fear, nerves, all of those feeble emotions pale before the chance you have today. So, you nod at your reflection in the mirror, count to three in your head, and finally head out of the bathroom. 

“Five minutes, were you crying?” Sam’s bored voice startles you as soon as you set foot outside. He’s leaning on the wall across from the door, hands deep into the pockets of his suit.

Not again. 

“I know that I’m very pretty but don’t you have better things to do than to follow me?” you ask, pausing right in front of him. 

“I’m not following you, I just happen to be particularly fond of the architecture of this corridor,” he jokes and you ignore his words, walking past him with a renowned determination. He pushes himself off the wall, only to grasp your wrist once again, spinning you around until you’re facing him. 

He chuckles softly, tilting his head to the side. His icy blue contacts pierce through your skin like a puncture needle.  “You know, I’m curious, Julia. You seemed very eager to get away from me.”

You take a step forward, closing the distance between you two. “Have you considered that I found your company utterly boring?”

“You wound me,” he places a hand on his heart, any trace of humor absent from his voice. His grip tightens on your wrist for a millisecond. A warning. “I need you to leave.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“I’m serious. You shouldn’t be here tonight.”

“And why should I listen to you?” you challenge and his eyes darken further. 

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then let me go,” you mutter, slipping your hand away from his grasp. 

“Julia,” he says sternly, pulling you back till your back is against the wall, his hands rooted on either side of your body. 

It is a dimly lit hallway, and the sound of the orchestra barely reaches you. Your worry intermingles with a new kind of nerves, all orchestrated by his proximity, and the way his gaze brushes against your body like a skilled painter. 

“I’m not joking, leave.” His voice is much softer when he adds, “It’s for your own good. What will happen later doesn’t concern you.”

He knows something that you don’t know, something that, from his tone, none of the guests are aware of. You see something human in his eyes, in the slight crease doting his eyebrows. He seems genuinely worried for the innocent civilian he thinks you are. 

Your eyes turn to look at his hand near your head, only to notice his faintly bruised knuckles, shades of purple and green doting a delicate porcelain skin. They have healed well, then. 

Should you unearth the memory from two weeks ago— pleas for mercy, a deafening gunshot, and an excruciating silence afterward, the quiet after the murder that you remember most? 

Then, another scene rings in your head like bells of an ancient church— a bruised hand brushing against your own in an art gallery from two days ago, raven locks, and familiar, melancholy-tinted eyes. 

Could it be? 

Your voice turns sweet, tender, “should I trust you for the night?” your thumb brushes against the skin underneath his eye, wiping away the concealer you knew you spotted.

There it is, the eye mole you thought he covered. 

It clicks in your mind in an instant, pieces of a puzzle falling into place, there are still a few missing but you manage to grasp the bigger picture.

If he’s not letting you go then he could be of good use. 

What other choice do you have but to gamble with a killer? 

Your sharp nails drag across the nape of his neck, before settling right beneath his jaw. You mimic a gun, his eyes narrow in response.

“Is this how you killed Jung Cho, Hyunjin?” 

You feel a cold barrel instantly press against your stomach. “Police officer?” he asks. 

“No.”

“Journalist ?”

“Yes,” you slowly mutter.

“What’s your name?”

“I don’t wish to tell you.” The gun only presses further onto your skin. You feel a cold bead of sweat roll down your exposed spine. 

Breathe. 

“It’s Yn.”

“What do you know?”

“It’d be easier for me to talk if you removed the gun,” you smile lightly and Hyunjin only leans further, a distance as thin as a blade between you both.

“Speak.”

“You killed the only candidate that stood a chance in front of San. You drove him to the empty deposit near Inwangsan Mountain, tortured him for three days, filmed his confessions, and then sent them to many media outlets. Ours included. I know it because I followed you.” 

“Why did you follow me?” he questions. Your eyes flee to the end of the corridor where an impossible staircase sits. You are wasting your time. 

“Because I am investigating San. And through following him I ended up getting to know you. You are different from everyone he meets. Very secretive. So I figured it’d be worth a shot following you too,” you explain as calmly as you can. You’re sure the barrel of the gun will leave a bruise on your skin. 

“And why didn’t you write a piece about me? Everyone is dying to know who I am.”

“I have, I just haven’t released it. If I don’t come back home in an hour my head chef will post the video of you murdering Mr. Cho on every SNS. The public loves you for what you’re doing. But the politicians will come together to kill you. They have a price on your head. You are threatening everything they ever built.” 

Hyunjin drags his gun up your stomach slowly, trails it across your collarbones before it settles on your jaw. 

“I could kill you too, right now.” His tone is cold, evil. Very different from the man who asked you to dance. You know that I can.” 

“My death would only sign yours.”

Hyunjin’s forehead rests on the wall right next to your head. You can hear him inhale deeply, hear the gears turning in his head. “Fuck, you are driving me crazy.”

He drops the gun and takes a step back. “Why didn’t you expose me?”

“You are not the one that matters to me.” 

“What do you want from me then?” 

“Three minutes. Open San’s office, and then I’ll go. No one will ever know of your identity.” 

He remains silent. 

“Hyunjin, please.” 

“Fuck, fine. But whatever happens next you’ll have to trust me, okay?” his hands settle on your shoulder, his eyes leveling with yours, “if you’re not leaving then you’ll have to trust me enough, for tonight.” 

8 minutes. 

“After you,” Hyunjin bows slightly as he opens the door to Heo’s office. You step in first, and he steals a quick glance behind him—no one’s here, for now.

“That saved me the hassle of breaking the door.”

“You know how to do that?” he asks, slightly impressed.

“One of my hobbies,” you shrug before walking directly to the desk. Hyunjin leans against the wall, watching as you lift your dress slightly, revealing a small packet tucked into your garter. The sight drives Hyunjin a little crazy, and he closes his eyes for a second.

He really, really wishes he hadn’t met you here tonight.

You take out a listening device, tapping the bottom of the desk until you find a suitable spot, and then you stick it in place.

“Another one of your hobbies?” he smirks.

You giggle. “Mm, aren’t I the most fun?”

“You are,” his eyes drag across your figure, and he notices a slight falter in your posture, “the most beautiful too.”

You blink, and he’s suddenly in front of you, trapping you between the auburn desk and his toned body. You don’t seem intimidated, placing a palm on his chest as you tilt your head to the side. 

“Aren’t you curious why I’m going after San?”

“No, he angers a lot of people.” His thumb caresses your cheek, a touch so soft in contrast to his next words. “A lot of people fantasize about his death.”

“Are you one of them?” you question, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Right now, all I’m fantasizing about is you.” His voice is husky, and he finds it comes out much easier when he actually likes the person he’s attempting to seduce. 

It takes you a few seconds to speak again. “Is that so?”

“Mm, let’s dance.”

“Didn’t we dance downstairs?”

“That was Sam and Julia dancing,” he says as he entwines his fingers with yours. “You see, Hyunjin is a different kind of dancer.” His hand presses against your back, snaking against your bare skin. “Can I pull you closer?” he asks, and you simply nod, eyes fleeting widely all over his face. 

His chest presses to yours, so close he’s sure your hearts are syncing with one another, his inhales alternating with your exhales. 

“Yn,” he whispers your name, as you look up at him through the curve of your eyelashes.  

“Yes, Hyunjin?” His name sounds soft as it stumbles from your ruby lips, innocent from all the blood that drenches his soul.

“I like the way you say my name.” He glances at his watch above your head. 9:57.

“Hyunjin,” you repeat, as your hand drags up his neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair and gently dragging it backward, exposing his enticing neck to you. “You are always looking at your watch, what are you waiting for?”

He chuckles faintly, grabbing both your hands and spinning you around till his chin rests on the small of your shoulder. “You’re perceptive,” he mutters, as his fingers drag down your bare arms. “But so am I,” he says coldly as he grabs both your hands, bringing them behind your back. “Look, your hands are shaking just from my proximity. I don’t think you have it in you to film me killing Jung Cho. I don’t think you have it in you to watch me torture someone for three days.”

Click. Cold metal wraps around your wrist in an instant, handcuffing you to the leg of the table before which you’re standing. 

“I think you lied to me, Yn. I don’t like being lied to.”

“What are you doing?” you ask disoriented, panic spilling from your being like an overflowing cup.

Hyunjin pays you no mind, taking out his phone and dialing a number. “Boss, we have a problem. I caught a journalist trying to get into your room,” he taps his chin slowly as he looks at you. “No, no need for security. Just come alone. Don’t alarm the guests.”

2 minutes

“Are you serious?” you ask as soon as he hangs up, a prominent lump in your throat. “You told me to trust you.”

“Did I say I was worth that trust?” he pouts, seemingly mocking the vulnerable ordeal you found yourself in. 

A loud chuckle escapes your lips, your head thrown back as if before a hilarious spectacle of sorts. Hyunjin frowns, crossing his arms in front of his chest as your giggles slowly quiet down. 

“You’re a peculiar person, aren’t you Hyunjin? You need to hide your identity but you crave normalcy still, so you open your art gallery. You go to crazy lengths to cover your moles and wear contacts because you wish for people to look at you with admiration in their eyes, kindness. But you don’t deserve it.” There is a fire lit in your eyes, flames latching into his black suit and burning his already scarred skin. “You’ll always be as evil as them.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t respond for a while, his eyes simply softening at your words.

“I know,” he whispers. 

“Who’s this?” San’s voice booms loudly as he sets foot into the office. Hyunjin’s eyes break apart from your figure to look at San, bowing slightly to greet him. 

“Julia, she infiltrated the party,” Hyunjin explains, stealthily locking the door behind San. “She’s been investigating you for quite some time now. And… She knows about the murders.”

“Mm, she’s clever. Should we hire her?” San jokes and Hyunjin smiles politely, dragging his eyes over your face. You simply roll your eyes, seemingly more bored than scared. 

Cute. 

“Anyways,” Heo stares at you for a fleeting second before tapping Hyunjin’s shoulder. “She looks easy to kill. Just get rid of her. But don’t stain my carpet though, it's expensive.”

“Sure thing,” Hyunjin nods, taking out his gun and pointing it at your temple. He steals a final look at his watch— 9:30 p.m. he reads. 

Time’s up. 

“You didn’t think I’d let you go?” Hyunjin mocks, cocking his head at you. In a split second, a bullet ricochets loudly, but not at you. It grazes San’s ear, making him pause near the door, his back towards you both. 

“Right boss?” Hyunjin’s tone is slightly whiny, annoying is the best way to describe it. You can hear police sirens blare loudly outside, see the red and blue hues reflect off the window. Loud shouts erupt downstairs, Hyunjin leisurely reloads his gun, one hand deep into his pocket, San’s posture slightly falters, his fingers digging into the skin of his palm. 

“Do you hear that Heo? Your mansion is surrounded. All your filthy dirt is exposed. The police officers are arresting everyone downstairs right now. And they’re coming for you. The man of the hour.” Hyunjin makes a show of curtsying deeply. You stifle a giggle at his theatrics.

“You dare turn your back on me?” San yells, pivoting around to face Hyunjin’s barrel, the latter simply yawns as if it’s a regular Saturday activity for him. 

“Oh, don’t get emotional on me,” Hyunjin pouts, before his eyes narrow down coldly. “Now kneel. Let’s end this without staining your carpet.”

You see San slowly lowering himself to the ground, Hyunjin’s gaze sets on you for a millisecond, his pupils dilated in apology, in concern, you don’t know, you don't get to decipher his look because San is taking out his gun from his back pocket, aiming it at Hyunjin. “Watch out”— is all you manage to shout, and hyunjin ducks in an instant, propelled by the sound of your voice to the ground.

He could have died, he could have died because he looked at you. 

It all happens so fast, Hyunjin diving into San to take away his gun, both their weapons flinging into the air, San punching Hyunjin’s mouth and the latter retaliating by flinging his fist up against his nose. You’re struggling with your restraints, trying to reach out for the lone gun that fell to your right. 

A bit more, tune out the sirens, tune out the punches, slowly, only a few centimeters left, your wrist is on fire but that is the least of your concern, almost, there, you grab it.

You fire the gun.

It’s quiet once again, for the first time in two years, it is quiet in your head.

It’s over. 

You close your eyes, tilting your head back into the desk. The sound of your mother’s laughter floods your ears, her airy giggles as she brushes your hair and tucks you into her chest, her being a vision of beauty underneath the sun’s caress. 

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin kneels before you, wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks with his bruised knuckles. He is worried, even behind those icy blue contacts, you can still grasp his worry.

You nod, swallowing the sob that is lodged within your throat. Hyunjin is quick to unlock your handcuffs, entwining your fingers with his as he pulls you off the ground. 

You slightly push him aside, your eyes set on San’s bleeding figure. He’s still alive, rugged breaths escaping his chest, his palm pressed to the bullet that punctuated his stomach. 

“I want him dead,” you mutter, grabbing Hyunjin’s forearm to support yourself, “but I want him to rot in prison too.” 

“He will, for all his crimes. I have it all documented. The police have it too,” his palm rubs soothingly against your back, you lean further into his touch.

“He’s a monster.” 

“I know. They all are. That’s why I killed them,” he simply says, before guiding you back to a couch on the right of the office. He shrugs off his suit, draping it over your trembling shoulders. 

“Give me a minute.”

You watch as he grabs the gun you fired off of the ground, before taking a handkerchief out of his pocket. He wipes your fingerprints, making sure to leave his all over the gun. He then walks to the table, taking away your listening device and crushing it to the ground.

He’s calm and collected as he rearranges the scene to his liking, it looks like he has done this a million times before, as if this is the element in which he thrives— a sunflower turning to face the sun, at long last. 

He kneels before your freezing figure one last time, tilting your chin to the side so you’d look at him.

“I fired the gun. You had no idea any of this would happen, you’re just an ambitious journalist who wanted an insider scoop.” He senses you’re somewhere far, pulled by the ropes of memories that had long haunted your dreams. His warm palm presses to your cold cheek, your eyes are glossy as they rest on him. 

“You didn’t do anything. I’m the one who used you as a scapegoat to bring San up here, just like I agreed with the police. Alright? You did nothing.You know nothing.” 

“Alright.”

Hours pass in a cold blur, the weight of time lost on you as three police officers take turns questioning you. You repeat the lines Hyunjin taught you, your voice flat, devoid of emotion. Even as you step out of the police station, with Hyunjin's hand resting gently on your back, you feel nothing. A slight tremor runs through you when he mentions that San survived and will be transferred to prison once he's healed.

You don’t know why you’re disappointed you didn’t become a killer.

You don’t know anything, don’t feel anything as Hyunjin drives you home. You don’t question how he knows your address or the code to your elevator. It’s only when you unlock your door and he starts to pull away that reality snaps back.

Without thinking, you grab his wrist, suddenly aware of the loneliness that awaits you inside, an uninvited guest preying on your vulnerable heart.

“Would you like some tea?” you ask, your voice tinged with hopelessness, knowing just how silly you sound. Why would he stay? He has so many loose ends to thread after his finishing blow, you know he’s part of something far larger than you. 

As if mocking your question, his phone buzzes for the tenth time in the span of five minutes.

But then, to your surprise, he turns it off.

“Yeah,” he says with a soft smile, “I’d like some tea.”

As you bring the water to a boil, Hyunjin rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt, casually wandering around your apartment as if it’s not his first time setting foot in here. He’s always at ease— with a gun pointed at him or while looking at the souvenir magnets on your fridge. 

His calmness helps instill some peace in your heart too. 

“I like your apartment,” he says, accepting the cup of chamomile you hand him. “It’s cozy, feels like a home.”

“Thank you,” you whisper as you sink into the couch, your head hung low. So much has happened in just half an hour, too much for you to fully comprehend and process.

“Let me see,” he says a few sips later, as he gently removes the cup from your clutch, before sliding his thumb across your right wrist. The bruises have already begun to form, the red marks from the handcuffs clear evidence of your struggle to reach the gun.

“I’m sorry I involved you in this,” he murmurs, frowning as he avoids your gaze, staring intently at your wrist as if he could will the blue hues away. “I didn’t plan for you to be at the party.”

“I involved myself,” you chuckle softly. You’re not one for physical touch, but you don’t feel the usual urge to pull away from his grasp. His hands are warm, the roughness of his fingertips a stark contrast to the softness of your skin.

“You’re a stubborn journalist,” he says with a small smile, finally meeting your gaze. you suddenly yearn to look into the rich brown of his eyes once more. Was its shade as deep as you remember?

“And you’re an excellent painter,” you retort, eliciting a surprised laugh from him. The sound is unexpectedly endearing, and you’re caught in a whirlwind of contradictions. Is this really the same man you saw taking a life? The same man now holding your wrist as if it were made of porcelain?

“Right, you figured out my identity. What gave me away?” he asks, still smiling.

“I heard about this new gallery where the artist’s only clue to his identity was the name signed on his paintings. So, I decided to see for myself. While everyone else was captivated by the artwork, I noticed you, standing in the corner, observing the reactions of everyone around. You smiled when someone smiled, and your grin grew wider with each compliment. That’s when I started to suspect that the artist was you, all along.”

“I remember it now. I bumped into you as you were leaving,” he says, and you nod.

“What stood out to me were your sad eyes. That’s what I remember most. Well, besides your bruised knuckles.”

“And that’s how you connected the dots.”

“Yes, and your eye mole, too. Even though you tried to conceal it with makeup, it still showed.”

“Very perceptive,” he says with a grin.

“Thank you.”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll expose your identity?” you ask, as his hand gently slides into yours, his fingers resting lightly on top of yours. A simple, innocent touch, yet it stirs something unknown in the pits of your stomach. 

“I trusted you when you said I’m not the one who matters to you.”

“Why would you trust me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I miss putting my faith in someone, even if they end up failing me. Isn’t that the most human trait of all?”

How could an assassin create such heartfelt paintings, overflowing with emotions too hard to explain with words, let alone colors? Perhaps because this isn’t the life he always wanted.

“Did you choose this?” you ask softly, your voice barely a whisper. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from the interrogation, or the near brush with death, or perhaps the relief that this chapter is finally closing for both of you. But something compels you to keep talking, to ask, to hold on to Hyunjin just a little longer.

“Being a killer, you mean?” His voice carries a tenderness that seems at odds with the weight of his words. He’s a walking contradiction, balancing two identities within himself—Hyunjin and Sam. One feels heavier on his bones than the other. 

“I grew up in this world,” he continues. “My parents run a large network of assassins—or vigilantes, depending on how you see it. Some people hire us, and sometimes we act on our own when we see injustice or corruption festering for too long. We conduct thorough background checks. We only kill those who truly deserve it. We always make sure of that.”

“An eye for an eye.”

He nods, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I always feel good in the midst of a case. One less evil in the world. But after, there’s just this emptiness. Now what? I always wonder. So I try to fill the void with painting.”

“Now what…” you repeat, your voice trembling as a lump forms in your throat. “Now what? What should I do now?” Tears well up and spill over suddenly, streaming down your face in an unstoppable torrent. “San is behind bars, but my mom isn’t coming back. So what now? What was all of this for if I can’t get her back?”

You find yourself burying your head in the crook of Hyunjin’s neck, his arms wrapping tightly around you, holding you close as if he could contain your sadness, preventing it from seeping from your soul and reaching your mother, wherever she may be.

You haven’t allowed anyone to hold you like this in two years, denying yourself any comfort until you could bring your mother’s killer to justice. It was a promise you made to yourself after San drunkenly ran her over and fled the scene, leaving you alone to hug her cold body in that sterile hospital room.

“It drove me crazy,” you sob, your words broken and incoherent. “He bribed everyone—the doctors, the paramedics, the stores nearby. Everyone acted like my mom didn’t d-die because of h-him,” you hiccup, and Hyunjin only holds you tighter, closer, enough to stitch your wounds with time, only if he remains this close to you. If he wishes to, if you allow him to.

“But now he’s behind bars, and I still don’t have my mom. What do I do now that I can’t bury myself in revenge? Hyunjin, what should I do when I miss her so much and I can’t see her?”

Five hours later.

“The article is perfect, no corrections needed,” Chris says, removing his glasses and looking at you with approval. “Excellent work, Yn.” 

“Thank you,” you nod, feeling a mix of relief, but mostly exhaustion. “I stayed up all night working on it.” 

“Goid, it’s only 6 a.m. so we know that no other media outlet has touched this yet. Our article will be the one to shape public opinion. This is a big win for us. It’s a thorough investigation, and I’m confident you’ll get the recognition you deserve,” he writes something down onto his notebook before looking at you once more. “Take a few days off—you’ve earned it. I’ll reach out if anything urgent comes up.”

“Thank you, sir.” You bow slightly before turning to leave the suffocating office. Or maybe it’s your own mind that’s suffocating you. You don’t have time to dwell on the question before Chris speaks again. 

“Oh, Yn?” Chris calls out just as your hand touches the doorknob. “One last thing, did you ever figure out who was behind all those tapes?”

Your grip on the doorknob tightens imperceptibly. “No sir, no clue.” 

One month later. 

It’s a few minutes before the art gallery closes when you walk in. Hyunjin spots you before you see him, your distinctive walk etched in his memory as vividly as if it were only yesterday that he had seen it.

He approaches quietly, stopping behind you as you gaze at the newest addition to his collection.

“Is this us?” you ask, not turning around. Hyunjin’s eyes follow yours to the abstract painting of a couple waltzing in a ballroom, their hands intertwined just like yours were, four Saturdays ago.

“Yes,” he replies softly.

“It seems I left an everlasting impression on you,” you tease, he can hear the smile in your voice without seeing it. 

“You did. You looked beautiful.”

“So did you.”

“I’m glad you came,” he says sincerely. “I missed you.”

“But we only spent a day together,” you giggle quietly, and Hyunjin wishes he could capture your laugh and tuck it away in the veins of his heart.

“Didn’t that day feel like a year, though?” he muses, resting his chin gently on your shoulder. You lean back into him, closing the space between you.

“It did,” you admit before nervously clearing your throat. “Are you free right now? We could grab a drink, if you’d like?”

“Chamomile tea?” he chuckles, and your laughter vibrates through his being.

“No, something stronger this time.”

He hums, hesitating as he despises the words that would stumble out of his mouth. “I have some things to handle tonight. Urgent matters.”

“Ah,” your voice dips slightly, the disappointment clear in your tone. “Well, it’s okay. I’ll see you another time, then,” you say, finally turning to face him. 

He really missed you. 

“Okay. I’ll see you.”

“Okay.”

“Congratulations on your award, by the way,” he says, watching your expression soften, a delicate smile forming on your lips.

“You saw it?”

“I did. I read your piece, too. I’m sure your mom would be proud of you.”

Tears of gratitude well up in your eyes, and you squeeze Hyunjin’s hand tightly as you whisper, “Thank you. Really. Thank you, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin’s words linger in your soul, echoing through your mind for the rest of your day, his voice the only sound that seems to fill the silence within you. That is until three loud knocks resonate through your apartment, just minutes before midnight. 

You open the door to find Hyunjin standing there, a fresh bruise marring his jaw, his knuckles freshly scraped and bloodied.

“Let me guess, you had nowhere else to go?” you joke, trying to regain your composure at the sight of him once more.

“No,” he replies, his tone earnest, “I wanted to come to you.”

Your smile falters at the sincerity in his voice. You can’t quite place what it is about Hyunjin that pulls you toward him, how amidst everything that’s happened in the past month, the most vivid memory is how he held you gently as you cried and cried.

“I forgot something,” he says, pulling a tube of cooling cream from his back pocket and offering it to you. “I meant to give this to you for your bruised wrists.”

He’s a month late, you both know your wrists have long since healed.

“I… yeah,” he sighs before your silence, turning to leave, a light blush tinting his cheeks. But before he can, you drop the tube and grab his hand, spinning him back around.

“I forgot something too,” you say quickly before pressing your lips against his.

You don’t fully understand what draws you to Hyunjin, but you know his lips taste as sweet as cherry chapstick, that his hand around your waist feels like water flowing gently over your skin, warm and encompassing. That his brown eyes remind you of sunlight dancing on autumn leaves, that no one has touched your soul as deeply as he has.

You know you wish to make him feel as human as he makes you.

THE BREAK UP BUSINESS — EP. 9

[ an advent calendar series ]

— contains adult content, minors do not interact 🔞 —

[ abstract ]: Minho takes you on a business meeting where you meet one of his fellow colleagues and his boss. Caught up in the mess inside your head, you start flirting with the mysterious man—especially when Minho’s eyes are on another woman.

[ general ]: minho + fem reader, childhood friends/enemies → lovers, non idol au, best friend’s ex, demisexual reader, angst + fluff + smut, sunshine x grumpy, she falls first but he falls harder

[ warning ]: jealousy!!!, smut [ includes fingering (f rec), semi-public, praise, reader gets called baby, darling and good girl ]

[ words ]: 2.5K

[ note ]: the updates are slow but I hope you’re still interested in reading. enjoy my dears 🩵 I hope you like this cameo of another skz member 🤭

[ !! ]: the beautiful dividers are from @saradika-graphics

“Thank you for the spontaneous meeting, everyone,” the man with the muscular arms speaks greeting everyone. No, you’re not objectifying him but you just noticed. You’re just a woman after all. A woman that’s still going through a rough heartbreak that can’t think straight at this point anymore. “And also a ‘hello’ to everyone else attending.”

He looks at you, making eye contact and you’re immediately drawn into his gaze. Gosh, you’ve really hit rock bottom. But can you blame yourself?

After all, you woke up next to Minho once again, who was clinging his body against your back, skin to skin, and after you met him in the kitchen he pretended as if nothing happened. Perhaps he doesn’t notice. But two mornings in a row? You doubt it.

For a second you wonder if it’s weird that Minho dragged you to this business conference with him but he just told everyone you’re his assistant and he’s not the only one sitting here with another person together. You realise that his company has a lot more female employees than you would have expected and you wonder why that’s the case. Well, you used to work in different fields of customer communication too and usually it’s a women dominated field, but that break-up-business-thing… you only expected men to be so soulless to work for a company like this.

“How’re the statistics going?” the man asks again and starts a conversation. Everyone is handing in their data that’s showing off their huge success—at least that’s what they call it, you still find it pathetic. You don’t care if anyone calls you a goody-two-shoes with a stick up your ass, but you can’t imagine yourself working a job that does more harm than it brings good to this society. Maybe you’re naive, yes, but sometimes you like that about yourself. It’s what’s kept you positive over the years of growing up.

“Mr Lee is once again ahead of all of us, well done,” the man next to him with the squishy cheeks is speaking. He looks a bit like a squirrel and now you can’t unsee it. Dammit.

“Han, don’t make me blush. I’m just very ambitious that’s all.”

And I’m close to throwing up.

You’ve always known that Minho has an ego as big as Antarctica but he could have toned it down a bit, huh?

“Absolutely,” the man in the front, you realise now he might be the team’s leader, replies, “that’s why he’s our best employee. You can all learn from him.”

“Thank you, Chan,” Minho says, sounding actually thankful for once. “We could go out after this, drinks on me?”

Wow, that’s very spontaneous and not very Minho-like.

Wait.

Does that mean you will go with them?

God, you’ve always thought Minho was an introvert just as much as you are. For a second you contemplate texting Soyeon and asking if she wants to spend the evening with you instead, but then you remember she’ll be on a date with her new boyfriend Felix. Shit. If you don’t wanna get bored inside Minho’s apartment—which is at the other side of the city—you’re gonna have to go with them. If he even wants you there.

“What are you waiting for?” your childhood friend asks you.

“What?”

Your gaze darts up, meeting his awaitening eyes.

“You’re coming with us. Here’s your coat,” he explains, handing you the jacket and helping you inside it.

You don’t notice it but Jisung—the squirrel guy—stops in his tracks and observes the sweet little gesture his colleague does for you. Giggling a little, he brushes it off and leaves the conference room.

Half an hour and a limousine ride later, you find yourself inside yet another posh bar—what a surprise—sitting around a huge table with Minho and all his coworkers.

“You’re Y/N, right?” the woman sitting next to you asks. “Minho has told us so much about you.”

She seems nice, hair blonde hair falling over her shoulders and she carries a bright smile on her face. “Yes! O-Oh, really?”

“Only good things, don’t worry,” she reassured you. “I’m Yuqi by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“So, you’re all working for the company?” you ask her and she pours a bit more water into your glass. You thank her, watching her take a sip from her red wine.

“Yes! I’m doing the same job as Minho and Jisung. Jeongin, the guy over there,” she points at a man with fox-like eyes who waves in your direction, “is my assistant, so he’s basically in the same position as you. Oh, and Chan is our boss but I’m sure you already know him.”

You don’t. And you wonder now if it’s weird.

When you hover your eyes around in the room, you notice that the woman sitting on Minho’s other side is caught in a conversation with him. Quite a deep, focused conversation. She’s even throwing her arm around him, pulling him closer.

You’ve never thought about it but… what if Minho is dating someone?

He’s never been the type of relationship kind of guy. In addition, he’s been sleeping in a bed with you for the past two days just because you’re feeling lonely.

Perhaps he just views you as a little sister at this point. You wouldn’t be surprised. He made that very clear that he’s not interested, when you poured your heart out to him and he never replied to your confession years ago.

Maybe she’s his girlfriend. She’s beautiful, almost looks like a doll. You wouldn’t blame him.

He leans over, whispering a joke into her ear and she laughs out loud, covering her mouth.

Fuck this.

You notice the sound of footsteps behind you, as a man is tapping Minho’s shoulder.

“Hey, can I talk to your assistant alone for a second?”

His assistant?

Wait. That’s you.

Minho catches a quick glimpse of you and you nod. “Yeah, sure.”

Fuck. He realises now that Chan must be confused. Yes, they’ve been friends for some time and since Minho is his best employee he usually lets him decide things on his own. However, it’s common that when an employee hires an assistant, this person has to be introduced to the boss first before starting their job.

Minho watches you get up from your seat, utterly irritated from the sudden situation and the flirting session he’s been focusing on for the past five minutes. Yuqi sends you a reassuring look and gestures two thumbs up, before you follow the team leader to a separate room.

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing serious. I just haven’t had the opportunity yet to properly introduce myself. I’m Bahng Chan,” he starts.

You smile, “Nice to meet you, Mr Bahng. I’m Y/N.”

“Oh, please, call me Chan,” he chuckles. “It’s fine. I’m not your boss, you’re working for Minho after all.”

“Y-Yeah, I am. For not that long yet,” you explain. Fuck. You hope you’re not gonna get Minho in trouble for anything you might be saying.

“Yeah, I figured, but you seem to have a big influence on him. At least from the customer reviews of these last few days.”

Shit. Yes, you might have been successful with crashing the wedding but the day before that you… kind of messed up.

“I’m… I’m sorry if something wasn’t meeting your expectations, Sir,” you try to phrase it as sensitive as possible.

“Sir? Stop with the honorifics, Y/N. It’s all good,” he emphasises. “I think that a little backlash and a not so successful experience is good for Minho too. His ego…”

“Oh, yeah. He’s got a lot of that,” you finish his sentence.

Chan laughs along, “You get it. As the team leader it’s my job to organise everything and guarantee that all employees get along, you know?”

“Yeah, I understand that. I used to work in a position similar to you, in customer communication,” you inform him.

He tilts his head, “Oh, what happened?”

“I… quit the job. It’s silly now looking back but I wanted to become a stay at home wife. Until my fiancée called off the wedding not that long ago,” you tell him the short version of how your life broke down to its pieces.

Chan’s eyes are widening, “Fuck, I’m sorry. Truly sorry. My fiancée ran off at the altar a couple of years ago.”

“Fucking hell, that’s even worse, Chan,” you reply.

God, this must be more terrible than the shitshow that you’ve been going through.

“It’s okay,” he says, “otherwise I would have never started this job and found all those wonderful people you know?”

Hm, some type of revenge story? You don’t blame him. Maybe this job they’re doing isn’t as evil as you thought it is.

“You’re right.”

“I mean it,” he repeats. “Even if it feels as if your whole life might be falling apart right now—that’s because your new life is waiting for you.”

Those words stick with you. It makes sense. Your new life is gonna cost you your new one.

“Thank you for this. Seriously.”

“Maybe it’s what I would have needed back then,” he adds, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well, from a neutral perspective, you seem very happy and stable,” you compliment him.

“Thank… you?”

“Gosh, I didn’t mean it in a weird way,” you tell him

Chan chuckles, “I know.”

“Did you… find love again?”

Is it weird to ask him that? Well, this conversation started off strong on the oversharing part on both sides, despite not knowing each other so who cares?

“Not yet. I’m not looking for anything serious right now, as cliche as it sounds,” he explains. “What about you?”

“I’m confused. You know, that man, my ex fiance, I really thought that it was the right decision despite knowing he’s not… the one. This sounds so sad and I’m yapping and–“

“It’s okay, Y/N,” the man reassures you. There’s something about his soothing voice and the glitter in his eyes that gives you comfort. Not in a way that Soyeon or Minho do, but it fits the occasion.

“I’m… utterly confused,” you repeat. “I think… it’ll take time, maybe some distraction to get him off my mind and actually grasp and figure out what I want in life.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Chan says, letting his mouth speak faster than his brain can grasp his proposition.

You raise one of your eyebrows, “An idea?”

“I could help you with the distraction part,” he offers, licking his lips.

“I’m–“

“Oh, God, I'm sorry if I overstepped your boundaries,” he immediately pulls back his words.

Well…

The thing is, you do find him attractive. And maybe that’s what you need right now. A little meaningless intimacy to close that chapter.

“N-No, it’s just, I usually don’t do this casual thing, but maybe it’s a good idea to do it with someone I barely know,” you tell him.

It’s not rational. And it doesn’t need to be. This is future-Y/N’s issue to deal with.

“You wanna come with me?”

“Yes,” you say, placing your hand on his tie and he grins back at you.

“You’re so beautiful, fuck,” Chan whispers into your ear.

He’s got your spread out on the bathroom counter, your thighs apart and his fingers playing with the hem of your very much soaked underwear.

“Don’t… tease,” you tell him, a moan slipping right between those two syllables.

“Be a bit more patient, baby. I’m gonna make you feel good, I promise. Get your little head away from all those worries, yeah?”

He slips his hand under the fabric, only pulling it to the side, not bothering to take it off. Then Chan’s fingers are brushing your wetness, spreading your pussy lips apart. His thumb is grazing over your swollen clit, smooth circles stimulating your bundle of nerves and it works. In that moment, you’re only thinking about the sensation right between your legs.

“Please,” you whisper and he continues with those sweet motions.

“You’re doing well for me, darling. Such a good girl,” he praises you.

When Minho allowed you to live with him for an unknown time, you thought that the two of you would get close again. But you remember how he ruined everything back then so why should things be different now?

Yes, the first thing that came to your mind was the idea of Minho being the next and hopefully last man to touch you, given the fact that you’ve never entirely gotten over him, but you also know that your mind is too much of a mess right now to let that happen.

If you ever get close again then it must come from the heart. No distraction. No revenge. No other motifs thrown in the mixture.

“R-Right there,” you say, when Chan slips two fingers inside your hole at once, curling them a bit to search for that sweet spot and finding it.

He picks up his pace, rutting into you land you’re caught in trance. So much, that you almost don’t notice now your purse falls down and everything inside is now splattered on the bathroom tiles.

“Shit—we can grab that later,” you say.

Chan nods, but when he catches a quick glimpse of all the items that aren’t inside your bag anymore, he comes to a halt—seeing your ID card.

He immediately pulls out, licks his fingers clean and licks up the plastic card.

“Y/L/N? Your full name is Y/L/N Y/N? Fuck, I’m such an idiot and an asshole,” he immediately hyperventilates, “how have I not noticed?”

“W-What do you mean?” you ask, very confused to say the least.

“Your Minho’s childhood friend aren’t you?

“Yes,” you say.

Chan closes his eyes and throws his head back. Regret is washing all over his face. “We should stop this. I’m sorry, I’ll never touch you again.”

“Chan, I don’t get this. Why… what’s going on?” you ask.

Is this some… bro code? But that wouldn’t make any sense. You’re not Minho’s girlfriend and he’s made it very clear in the past that you’ll never be either.

“I can’t tell you much but… it feels like betrayal,” he explains.

“Why? It’s not like Minho and I have ever been anything serious.” It’s not easy speaking those words out loud when your heart still aches after all those years.

He gulps. “Let me help you put on your clothes again.”

You allow him that, still, you don’t stop the conversation. “Talk to me, Chan.”

He sighs, “I can’t, okay?”

“Is Minho in love with me or something?” 

Chan doesn’t answer. He doesn’t answer.

“He is, isn’t he?”

Chan takes a step back, before he scoffs, “The fact that you’re asking this when he talks about you behind your back as if you placed the stars in the sky should tell you to get new glasses.”

“Hey, that was mean,” you laugh out loud.

And then you grasp it.

Is it true? Or is this just some weird way of turning you down?

“I’m right, though,” he repeats. And despite not knowing Chan quite well, you believe him.

“Yeah, you are,” you whisper, standing on your feet again. “Fuck. I… I think I should go back or… go home. With him.”

“Use condoms, yeah?” Chan teases you.

“Thanks for… the talk,” you say, before you reach for the door knob.

“Anytime, Y/N. It was nice to meet you nonetheless.”

© leeknowsallyoursecrets 2024 — copying, stealing or translating my work is prohibited

💔❤️‍🩹🇵🇸🇵🇸To Those with Compassionate Hearts and Conscience,🇵🇸🇵🇸💔❤️‍🩹

My name is Mohammed Nasr, from Gaza, where war and suffering prevail. In this land that has turned into hell, my family has lost everything. I lost my brother Mahmoud, my brother Ahmad suffered a leg amputation, and I have been injured in my legs and abdomen. My parents suffer from chronic illnesses, and my children, Nasr (7 years) and Alin (6 years), are suffering from malnutrition and skin diseases.

The war has destroyed our homes and businesses, leaving us without shelter or resources. Our displacement has caused my mother and siblings to live in different areas of Gaza, while I, my wife Yasmin, who is battling cancer, and my children are in the south.

We are living in a state of displacement, having fled more than ten times, and we are struggling with a lack of food and water. My wife now requires treatment abroad, which is extremely costly, and we cannot afford it.

Therefore, I appeal to you with open hearts to extend a helping hand, whether through financial assistance or psychological support. Even a small contribution could change our lives.

I thank you from the depths of my heart for your support and concern.

Sincerely,

Mohammed Nasr

minho x fem reader for @bellflowergarden | wc: 1.4k | warnings: big dick!minho in gray sweats, est. relationship, implied inexperienced/insecure reader, dryhumping, handjob. i clearly didn't know how to conclude this lolz. enjoy!!

Minho who loves your eyes on him, he always does. It feels different when it’s you. He wouldn’t mind giving you everything, showing you anything. He loves you. His eyes sparkle so luminescent it’s obvious. It pours out of him.

But he’ll never push it. Ever. Never just take you just to have you. There isn’t a selfish bone in him- not when it comes to his love and affection for you. He’d never do anything to make you uneasy.

A night after the hot tub, your lovely boyfriend has brought you on a weekend getaway, a bit out of the city, and he’s changed out of the skimpy towel he had slung around his hips into those light gray sweats. Torturing you, they were. Made to fit him so specifically, so fatally, just to make you lose that tad of inhibition. The inhibition that usually stops your eyes from wandering, from lingering, that inhibition that forces your eyes somewhere else. He won’t tease you. You’re not obsessed. But tonight… well, shit.

“You’re looking.”

His kitty-cat mouth curls up at the corners. His wet hair drips down bare shoulders. This is the devil, certainly. There’s no way that you could ever be tempted more.

You feel stupid. You can’t say anything. What are you supposed to say? You’d sound stupid anyways.

Warm. Cold dampness and warm, hot heartbeats ring through him. He has a pulse, and it makes it all too real. How can he be real? How can he look at you like-

Your head forces down, away, somewhere else. He doesn’t, you can’t, you don’t know how-

Minho only exhales, “I want to kiss you.”

He says it as if it’s the simplest, most obvious, easy thing. As if he just knows it and doesn’t mind it.

Your instinct is to say no, but your body surrenders. Shoulders shrink into him, and he tucks your mouth back into his direction with a finger under your chin.

Minho meets your lips without a sound, a hum, or an ounce of uncertainty.

You feel weak and wimpish, untethered in the ocean and he’s your solid, unwavering light post.

“I want you to. I want you to touch when you want to touch.” Minho says.

“I don’t kno–”

He kisses you soft again to stop your mind from running wild. “It’s not like that. There’s nothing.. there shouldn’t be anything between us, or... anything keeping you from me.”

He smiles, liking the way your fist relaxes to intertwine with his. “Or me from you.” He adds. Your hand hesitates, but finally flattens against his stomach. He inhales, and you worry that he dislikes it, but you realize.. he doesn’t. He’s just breathing. Just the same.

“That’s it..” He smiles, knowing you love his small praises and encouragement.

“You’re unreal..” You squeak.

He giggles, then, of course he does. “Promise I’m real.” His nose wiggles cutely.

He feels the moment of hesitation and instead of leaning over you, he sinks back into his pillow. Letting you have the upper hand here. His eyes watch where you touch him. He doesn’t look afraid, nervous, disgusted. He likes it. He had said it, and had followed that by showing you.

You watch that hand, too, moving it up and dragging your fingertips in a way that lets you feel each ridge and muscle in his body. Shy away from those dusky nipples, though you wouldn’t mind touching them, even with your lips.

Wonder if it would have him make a sound for you. Like the sounds he has made when your clothed bodies are gently rubbing against each other, searching for friction, when you kiss deeply sometimes.

Oh, that. You’ve done that. And that feels good. And that isn’t scary. You bring your leg over his body, and watch his expression as you do.

He gulps, watches as you sink down slightly, so you’re almost touching.

“Is it okay?” You ask.

He nods before you can even begin to regret the action.

Your lips settle over the tender skin under his ear. You find yourself sucking gently and tonguing at it. Then his lobe, then your nose drags over his throat.

Your hand has circled that nipple on its own, and he doesn’t make a sound, but his head tucks back against the pillows and his eyes shut momentarily. Good? Definitely good.

And you hadn’t done this on purpose, but you realize as you slide your hips flat against his that both of you have gone without underwear as part of your pajamas. Your cheeks flush, and Minho’s hand reaches for the divot of your hip.

“You sure?” You think he mumbles, but it’s not very comprehensible.

“Doesn’t.. have to be tonight.” He says more clearly.

Your needy clit has a mind of its own, and ruts for a ridge to grind on.

“Baby..” He grunts.

You smile, “I want to. Let me?” You ask.

“Yeah, O’course.” He says, he’d let you do anything you want. Minho’s ears are red now. You love those red little ears. You must’ve surprised him a bit.

You kiss him, copying how he has done before when you two did this. His cheeks feel warm close to yours. That bulge, soft and undefined, hardens and swells and as if to reach through the fabric. As if asking to be sat upon. You always gawked at the size of it, at least the size of it that you can feel.

Your hips find the satisfying vein to press against, and the pleasure is instant and satisfying. You smile and breathe against Minho’s mouth. His breath seems to shorten, moans sounding like pleading.

When your fingers trail down, adventurously, for a feel, it’s grown even more. Minho’s cockhead taps and reaches past his waist band. Your lips part in something like awe. Your hand instinctively wraps around it. Adjusting your body, off his lap, your hand eagerly soothes and rubs at his hardness.

It’s big, undeniably so, and your words against the side of his mouth make him burn up even more.

So much, expression so flustered, almost shy, that you pause, hand lifting to his cheek.

“Sorry. Is it okay for me to touch it?”

His eyes find yours, and he softens once more. “Always.”

You sigh into those lips. Those irresistible lips. Your hand slips past the annoying waist band.

It’s not scary when it's Minho. You know he’s made of love. Of sugar.

His hand brushes over your arm, and you pause. “Tell me if it’s good.” You whisper.

“More..”

Comes his voice, mouth wrapping slowly around the word, his eyes in-between open and shut.

Your hand cups him, thumbing the head on each upstroke, and setting a steady rhythm.

Little sounds against your ear, almost like pain, but they sound oh so nice.

“Pretty,” you kiss his cheeks.

He kisses your mouth, and no part of you fights when a finger of his licks at the buttons of your shirt. He watches your eyes, searching for any of that hesitancy or fear before he slips open the top button. Then, the next. You help him with the third and fourth.

His eyes drink in your naked chest, and you feel a pearl seep from him and into your caressing fist. His body curves when he kisses your chest, your breasts and the space between them. His eyes close and a hot breath against your goosebumped skin.

A groan, and a sigh, and his forehead against you. “You’re.. baby, shit, I’ll..” he whispers, never wanting to scare you.

Your free hand combs into his hair, tickling the nape of his neck. “Want you to. You can come.”

A few minutes of Minho’s sweet sounds, him checking that you're sure and that this is really okay, and his head lolls against your shoulder. “Kiss me.” He breathes.

You do, and within moments he’s letting you see him in the most vulnerable position. He’s never been sweeter. “Coming..” He mouths, not warning this time, just telling.

You swear when he does, when it releases over your hand, and his stomach. Thick ropes of it.

He sinks into the pillows, not letting go of your wrist and bringing you with him. Those breaths, heavy and full and because of you.

You realize he is blushing when he looks at you. You smile, in no rush to be pulled out of this moment. "Was that good?" You ask softly.

He nods. You smile, "I think I might have liked it even more." You giggle, pressing your nose to his.

𝕄𝕦𝕗𝕗𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕄𝕠𝕒𝕟𝕤

⋆˚✿˖° ˖°✿⋆˚

Fem!Reader x Kim Seungmin

Summary: You and Seungmin are roommates and he goes wandering in your room looking for something but ends up finding something else and getting aroused.

Warnings: accidental stimulation, masturbation, edging, hair grabbing, oral (Male receiving), sort of face fucking, you help him masturbate, he gets embarrassed, Seungmin whimpers, He doesn't know how to contain it, lmk if I missed anything else!

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: This one was recommended! I really hope y'all like this one as well. I'm gonna try to post as often as I can but I really don't have a great schedule😞. This one is also kinda short I apologize.I’ll have another one soon hopefully 🫶.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

You and Seungmin have been roommates for almost a year, so you've learned each other's schedules. You work from 8-4, and Seungmin stays home to do his online courses.

Seungmin tends to look for things in your room because he is always home and gets bored, wanting a reason to wander around the apartment.

He doesn't do this often, but this time when he did, he found something that is not usually left out for anyone to see, considering how tidy you are.

Seungmin found himself in need of something to write on and he knew that you had a few sketchbooks that you wouldn't mind him using.

He found what he was looking for but he also found your panties on the floor of your room. It was on the side of your bed laid out for him to see, it's like you wanted him to see it.

It's not like he meant to see it or, better yet get a boner from it. He doesn't know why it's happening but he doesn't hate it. The image of you taking off your panties pops up in his head as he looks at your underwear.

He couldn't help himself from getting off on your panties. He pressed his hip against the side of your bed, his back following, sliding down until his knees reached his chest.

After getting on the ground he spread his legs out, enough for him to have space to comfortably touch himself. Then he pulls his shorts down enough for his cock to be out.

Seungmin reached his hands to the bottom of his stomach, tucking his fingers under his boxers and grabbing his hard cock, palming it gently while staring at where your pussy had been at one point.

He reaches down and grabs his shirt, bringing it to his mouth so it won't be in his way. Seungmin starts to slowly stroke himself as he reaches for your panties. He can't help himself, he doesn't know why he's doing this, his body is just moving on its own.

His strokes start to become harsher, seeing your panties just did something to him. Knowing that your pussy was once there he couldn't help but bring them up to his face, imagining him being in your pussy. Eating you out so good to the point you whimper out his name.

His dick twitches in his hand from the thought. He uses some of his pre-cum to help him pump his hard cock.

“Fuck Y/N”

He whispered for you, groaning out for you. He was close to cumming but didn't want to yet. He let go of himself, watching his dick twitch.

After a few seconds, he starts to stroke himself again, his whole body flinching as he gently touches himself. He brings your panties down to his dick, teasing himself with them.

Seungmin slowly puts your panties around his hard dick, his whole body reacting to every touch. He felt himself around you, stroking himself with you. He wanted you so bad.

All while he was doing this he didn't hear the front door open. He had been edging himself on for so long that he didn't even realize the time. You've been home for a while.

He lets out more whimpers not knowing you’re home. You could hear him calling out for you, you thought maybe something had happened so you slowly walked up to your door.

You opened the door just enough for you to see inside. Seungmin didn’t even look up at the door as you peeked through it. The image of him was so fucking hot.

He was sitting on the side of your bed, his shirt in his mouth, his shorts down to his knees, his cock in his hand.

Seeing your panties in his hand shocked you. It made you want to help him, he felt like this because of you right?

You open the door gently, watching seungmin glance up at you with begging eyes. He realized what he was doing for a second and got embarrassed, trying to cover himself.

“I uh.. Its not what it looks like y/n! I didn't mean to I…it just kinda happened..”

You don't say anything and start to walk up to him. You look into his lustful eyes, you could tell he wanted you to do anything to him.

Looking down at his cock you could see so much cum leaking from him. He was a mess for you, your panties now covered in his cum.

“Seungmin, let me help you okay?”

He nods his head in approval as you look down at his dick watching him twitch. You put your hand on his hips rubbing around his base before touching his cock.

His hips buck into your touch, whimpers slipping out from his mouth as you tease him. You didn't know that he had already been on the edge of cumming for a while.

You stroke him a few times before leaning forward to take him in your mouth. His hips bucking every time you move your head.

He grabs a fist full of your hair as you suck him off. His hips start to buck forward and fuck into your face, his grip tightening on your hair, whimpers flowing from his mouth.

You bring your head back up, gathering up spit in your mouth to help you stroke his dick again.

“Ngh y/n please”

His begging made you want more than just what you were giving him, but it was already late and the two of you had things to do tomorrow.

“Can you cum in my mouth seungmin? Please?”

He nods his head yes as you go down on him again, taking in his full length. His hand pushed your head down the closer he came to cumming down your throat.

With a few final thrusts into your face, he came down your throat, painting your mouth white. You moan into his thrust causing him to whimper from the vibrations.

You look up at him as you bring yourself up to his view, allowing him to watch you swallow his cum.

“Fuck y/n….your such a good girl for me…”

You smile at him as he strokes your face, both of you trying to catch your breath from what just happened.

“Maybe we could do this again seungmin, but maybe let me help you more..”

“Fuck yes y/n”

After a while of catching your breath, you get up to get a towel to help clean up yourself and him. He kept apologizing about what happened saying how he didn't know why it happened, but you didn't mind it at all. After all, you've been waiting for this moment.

♡Knight To Remember - Seungmin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: knight! Seungmin x princess! reader

summary: Your parents set up a competition for all the knights in the kingdom and said whoever wins it wins your hand. Your childhood enemy has entered just to piss you off but what happens when he unexpectedly wins?

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, tooth-aching fluff

Knights and noblemen from the entire kingdom had made an appearance. They had trained, bartered and bought their way into this competition. All for your hand in marriage. It wasn't that they were after. This long line of eligible men weren't your true loves. When they looked at you, they saw the crown. A shining symbol of money and power. Marrying you was just a technicality. An added responsibility they each of them would ignore the moment the wedding ceremony was finished. You would rot away in that castle just as your mother had. And there wasn't a thing you could do about it.

The first pairing stepped forward. An experienced knight that everyone knew by name. The crowd roared and cheered him on and he soaked up every moment. His opponent matched him in size but not popularity. The match was over in a few moments with Mr. Popular coming out the victor. “Who's next?” He shouted, his confidence growing by the second.

Some of the other knights instinctively stepped backwards, not wanting to risk the almost certain humiliation of going against such a distinguished knight. You sighed heavily as you watched the other men look around at each other, unsure what to do.

“I'll take you on, big guy.” A voice rang from the crowd with a familiar tone. You leaned over your balcony to see him, Seungmin, stepping into the ring. His gloved hand gripped tight around the handle of his sword and he moved his feet into practiced positioning.

Seungmin was exceptionally skilled as he was irrefutably stubborn. He had been asked by many to join their individual cause and help them fight, but Seungmin always brushed them off. Must have enjoyed the company of free drink and free women more than fighting for his kingdom. What a pig. You turned your nose and your back as Seungmin readied himself. But you still peered over your shoulder still, figuring it would give you some sort of entertainment to see him get his ass kicked.

Seungmin raised his sword in proper knightsmen etiquette, signaling that he was ready to begin. Mr. Popular stepped forward as well. He was noticeably taller than Seungmin. “Are you sure? I don't want to embarrass you in front of such a beautiful princess.” The knight boomed, gesturing to you in the balcony above the arena. Seungmin turned his head towards you and smiled. A smile you knew all too well. A smile that promised more mischief was to come. He bowed to you like a gentleman. You rolled your eyes in response. “Ready when you are.” Seungmin said, addressing the knight. Although his eyes never left yours as he spoke.

“It's not like I killed him.” Seungmin laughed as he pulled off his remaining armor. You stood together in your father's study. The entire kingdom was already filling up the castle with cheers of congratulations. The halls were echoing with Seungmin's name. In a panic, you pulled him in here to try to get an explanation out of him. “Do you realize what you've just done?” You were searing with anger. Seungmin moved to a small shelf with a bottle and some glasses and poured himself a drink. “Of course I realize it.”

You groaned in frustration as he moved casually. “You really do hate me, don't you?” You snapped. Seungmin sat across from you in a lounge chair that was almost always reserved for your father. He swirled a glass of wine, his long fingers clinging to the rim. A slow smirk spread across his lips.

“Is that what you think? That I hate you?” He said finally, standing up from the chair and making his way to you. He closed the gap between the two of you almost instantly. Like he was impatient now. Like waiting any longer to touch you was no longer an option.

Your body reacted immediately, stepping away from him and inching closer to the wall behind you. “Yes, that's what I think.” You whispered. Your voice was breathier now, like Seungmin had willed the air out of the room. His armor was gone now. But more than the iron helmet and the steel plates that he carried heavy while he battled. He was stripped away now. His broad shoulders and muscular arms filled the tunic that billowed and swayed as he moved. He looked vulnerable. Like the boy that threw rocks at your window in the middle of the night to tell you to sneak out. The boy who picked on you when you wore your fanciest dress. The boy that pulled your hair and ran away. “I don't hate you,” his eyes were hooded and dark. His pupils dilated from the dim lighting of the candles. “If I hated you, I would've let one of those fucking pricks win.” He took a long sip of his wine. His eyes stayed locked onto yours. “What do you mean?” You tilted your head, genuinely taken back by his response.

“Do you really think I'd let one of those entitled assholes marry you? Do you think they care about you? Do they know your favorite food? Or how you sneak desserts from the kitchen before dinner is served? Or that you are terrified of thunderstorms? No. And they will never care to learn those things. I can't leave your happiness up to someone else. That is my responsibility.”

Your breath was short and shallow like you needed to cry, or scream, or run away. “Your responsibility?” You snapped back, unsure of what you were feeling anymore.

“That's right,” Seungmin brought his hand up to your chin, gripping it firmly so you would really hear him this time. “ You're my responsibility.”

You wanted to push him backwards, scream that you are no one's responsibility. You wanted to tell him that you don't need anyone for anything… but your heart pushed past your head and grabbed the steering wheel, aiming you directly into his arms. Your hands cupped his face and pulled him into a deep, longing kiss. A kiss that started hard and desperate but then slowly turned into something more delicate and soft. His mouth would move into yours and your lips would respond the same. His hands made their way through your hair, down your neck and finally rested on your hips. Every breath you took mingled with him. The kiss never breaking in fear that this was all a dream and the moment you stopped you'd awake in your bed married to someone entitled asshole.

Seungmin grabbed you by the back of your thighs and pulled you up and around him. He held you so close to his chest you could feel his heart beating. His lips moved down from your mouth and lined your jawline and neck. Soft pecks gave way to hungry bites. Smooth caressing of his fingers gave way to impatient scratching and pulling. You reflexively rut your hips into him, the clothes between you seemingly like the worst torture imaginable.

“Where's Seungmin? I have to congratulate my new son-in-law!” Your father demanded from another room. You pulled back and in an instant so did Seungmin. He continued to hold you, your foreheads pressed against each other as you both attempted to slow your breathing back to normal. Your eyes flickered up to his and with a smile he knew what you wanted to say. He knew you and you were his now. His princess. His responsibility.

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