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Euphoria | Lee Minho

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Minho and you definitely do not like each other. No matter what the tabloids say. He’s your friend who argues and bickers like no other but you also crave the taste of him on your tongue. You are people who sling insults at each other from your respective stages, only to find him later painting your skin with sloppy kisses. And that's something you need to work on.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Minho x Reader (female)

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 23.2K

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Actors AU, friends with benefits to lovers, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (both male and female receiving), finger fucking, secret relationship, mentions of past relationship and cheating, angst, time jumps

𝐀/𝐍: Hello! I have no control whatsoever. It's tragic. This fic exists because I woke up at 4 in the morning and promptly died over the idea when someone mentioned 'actors' and 'smut' together. It also happened to be when I was in Minho appreciation hours, and hence this monster. Reblog and share your thoughts if you enjoyed the fic!!

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then

J U N E

He thrusts into you at an agonising speed, all grappling hands and searing mouth, while your fingers tangle in his hair. Part of you knows that you should not be doing this, not when just seconds ago you were screaming yourselves hoarse at each other, faces hot in anger as you went along with the same old song and dance.

“But I guess things like that are beneath people like you, right, baby?”

You arch into him with a soft murmur when he bites on your bottom lip, sucking it none too gently in his mouth and soothing the sting with his tongue. It sends frissons of pleasure down your spine, and you get to taste his moan, sweet on your tongue, as you pull on his hair.

“You’re just a self serving jackass, you know that Minho?”

His hands are heavy on your hips, gripping them hard as he lets his tongue lick into your mouth, and the two of you are all heat and fire, neither willing to give an inch. You can hear your blood rushing in your ear, blocking out everything but him, the feel of him, the smell, the way he presses his mouth against yours, hard and unyielding, and you have to hold on to him tight.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And that’s how you ended up here, backed against the cold metal wall of his trailer, because you deliberately came over to pick a fight having been too on edge all morning. Nothing calms you down like riling Minho up, but the tension that’s been coiling tighter ever since you met finally reached its breaking point today, leading to him pining you to the wall.

Or maybe you pulled him to you.

There was want echoed in both of your eyes, that’s for sure.

Either way, you were both equally as guilty even though this was wrong but you just pull him closer, let your hands run over the curves of his biceps straining against those ridiculous wizarding robes and give in, loving the way his teeth bite into your skin, the rasp of his hair on your cheeks. Minho kisses like he talks, confident, demanding and a little rough, and you might have whimpered a little bit when his hand came up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing along the ridge of your cheekbone.

One kiss flows into two, then three, never once losing its intensity, never once losing its harshness and heat and ability to suck the air straight from your lungs. Teeth clack against one another, lips pressed together with a bruising force that makes you see stars, and when he slips his tongue into your mouth it tastes a bit like war and heartbreak, and you want more.

Three turns into four, and he pulls back a little, just the barest brush of lips against yours yet it still sends your heartbeat skittering, and his hand slips to your neck, fingers pressed on your thrumming pulse. Shockwaves seem to originate from that spot, and you let your lips part, just a little bit, in a silent gasp of pleasure.

Five is a whisper of breath, shaky and deep, and you let your hands linger at the nape of his neck, lightly scratching at his scalp in a way that has his nose brushing your cheek, tender and soft. You know how to make him moan with it, how to test that bit of control he never seems to want to let up, and you do it again.

The sixth is a punctuation mark, a full stop at the end of the sentence, sweet and succinct with clumsy lips before you both pull away with wide eyes and harsh breaths.

“Fuck,” he says, running a shaky hand through his hair as he takes a step backwards. It leaves you feeling strangely cold, but you don’t pay too much attention to that, not when fuck seems like the understatement of the year for the mess you have gotten yourselves into here.

Your eyes meet his and you echo his words, because really, what else can you say.

* * *

before: 12 months ago

M A Y

“No,” you say, contemplating, smothering yourself with a pillow just to end this conversation.

On the other end of the line, Liv sighs in a way that you can tell that she’s pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “Come on, Y/n. This is a good opportunity.”

“I don’t want a good opportunity,” you say, flopping onto your stomach, “I don’t want anything other than to be left alone. If I go back out there the tabloids will eat this shit up.”

“It’s been six months. Surely people aren’t going to remember that now.”

“Pretty sure people are going to have a hard time forgetting the fact that my ex boyfriend outed me on the red carpet and then broke up with me then and there. In front of the press. On the red carpet,” you emphasise. “My mascara was running down. I was turned into a meme.”

“A lot of celebrities are turned into memes,” Liv points out unhelpfully, and you pull a pillow across your face. “Look, everyone has their ups and downs in this kind of work. Get used to it.”

You scrub a weary hand down your forehead. “You should host a seminar on pep talks, Liv, I’m sure people will learn a thing or two.”

There’s a bit of shuffling around on the other end of the phone and you hear the muffled sound of a door closing. When she speaks, Liv’s voice is the softest you have ever heard it. “You need to start putting yourself back out there, Y/n. These things happen and yeah, it’s mortifying and you want to crawl under a rock, but you’re stronger than that.”

You blink several times, actually pulling your phone away to check the caller ID to make sure, yes, that is in fact Liv, your hardass manager. “That might have been the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips, “Careful, I might cry.”

“Fuck off, Y/n,” she grunts, and the smile widens. “So, will you at least give it a chance?”

Hesitating for a moment, you contemplate the idea. “I could always just move to the countryside and become a dairy farmer instead of going back to acting. I have enough money to do that. You could find a new, competent client who doesn’t have a crisis every other week,” you say slowly.

You can practically see Liv raising a single brow, a look of pure skepticism on her face. “Imagine what the tabloids would say about that,” she says, “Since that’s apparently your basis for making decisions these days.”

“They’d call me a butch, and then let me fade into obscurity with my ten cows,” you answer promptly, and receive a grudging huff of laughter in return.

“Fine, I’ll give you that one,” she says, “Now back to the point at hand, do you agree or not?”

You bite your lip, hugging the pillow close. It would be nice to get back out there, you guess. Despite all the drama, you really do love acting, and while these past few months have been a nice break, you don’t know how much longer you can go without having anything to do. Finally, with a long, drawn out exhale, you relent, “Fine. You can send me the specifics and we’ll see.”

You are not even done with your sentence before you hear the ding of your email notification and you startle out a laugh. “Jesus, were you waiting with your finger on the send button or something?”

“I was confident that I could break you,” she says, smug, and you breathe a laugh again. “It’s just the audition package, but I think you’ll really like this show. It’s a cutesy, no bullshit type sitcom.”

“You know me well.”

“Let me know by tomorrow. I’m giving you twenty four hours to make a firm decision,” she says before hanging up.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at her actions. Liv is a great manager, but she’s definitely got a flair for dramatics.

… And knows exactly what kind of role would be perfect for easing you back into the industry, you grudgingly admit.

It starts off like another one of those generic crime investigation shows where you play a damn good detective who doesn’t play well with others until she meets her new partner, an unknown actress.

Liv was right. It’s the right amount of charming while still keeping with the grittiness that comes with crime shows nowadays, and your character – as well as your yet to be known partner – shuts down at least three instances of perceived sexism in just the first episode.

And you may be reading into things, but you are pretty sure that the two detectives have a thing for each other. A subtextual thing. God, you hope it’s a thing.

It’s a really good show.

Not only is the writing well done but the characters are pretty fleshed out and developed for a pilot episode and you are already tempted to call back Liv with the affirmation that yes, you are willing to go in for the audition. The only thing that’s holding you back is the smug look that you can picture all too well on her face at the news.

You last seven hours, caving after you have had dinner and Liv sounds just as self satisfied as you imagined.

Turns out the reading is in a few days time and Liv says, “I’ll drive you up there myself. I don’t trust you to not run away because of cold feet.”

You sigh, “As always, your faith in me is astounding.”

“We’re driving up the day before and booking a hotel. Start getting your shit together, Y/n.”

And you do, unearthing whatever you think would be suitable enough for being thrown back into the spotlight. If it was up to you you would just wear sweats all day. The morning you were scheduled to leave, you are awoken by an incessant pounding on the door to your apartment at 7:30am.

Not even bothering to throw something over your night slip dress, you stomp over and yank the door open with a belligerent, “What the fuck.”

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Liv demands, placing her hands on her hips. You glare at her weakly through your post sleep haze. Of course Liv would be looking runway ready at 7:30 on a Wednesday, both hair and makeup immaculate as she judges you for looking like an overgrown sewer rat. You are only mildly upset about it.

“You do realise it only takes like two and half hours to drive up to Seoul right? And that the audition is tomorrow?”

Liv merely grunts, and shoulders past you into the living room, though not before shoving a warm thermos in your hands. “Shut up, drink this, and get dressed.”

Unscrewing the cap, you're immediately hit with the scent of fresh coffee, and a strongly brewed one at that. “Seriously?” you ask, eyeing the dark brown sludge Liv likes to drink. She goes through at least four cups a day and you aren't quite sure how she’s still living.

The other woman just gives you a shark-like smile. “Bottoms up,” she smirks as she throws herself down onto the armchair.

You grumble but do as you are told, only to gag at the first taste of it in your mouth. It’s bitter and horrible and you're pretty sure your heart stutters over itself before beating double time.

“That’s disgusting,” you wheeze, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

Liv barely glances up at her phone. “I don’t care. Get dressed.”

You briefly consider drawing out your shower, but you're fairly certain that Liv wouldn’t hesitate to barge in and drag you out herself so you keep it quick. Mostly. You probably could have spent a couple less minutes shaving your legs but oh well. What’s done is done, and Liv hasn’t expressed any desire to harm or maim you as yet so you consider it a win.

By half eight the two of you are trudging down to the carpark, your duffel bag swinging lamely between them.

“If this goes badly I’m going to go back to my original plan of rearing llamas in South America,” you warn, pulling open the door to the passenger side with far more force than necessary. You throw your duffel in the backseat, having it land haphazardly on the floor.

Liv smoothly slides into the driver’s seat and the car hums to life. “I thought you were going to be a dairy farmer?” she asks lightly, passing over one of those heavy bran muffins you like to eat. You make a face but accepts it nonetheless. Asking Liv to stop at a Starbucks to pick of breakfast will only result in a stink eye and another bran muffin thrown your way.

“I changed my mind. Llamas have more personality than cows. Plus the paparazzi will never find me as an obscure livestock owner in the Andes.”

“I’m glad you’ve thought this through,” she says wryly, and you just smile at her, taking a huge bite out of the muffin.

You regret it instantly. It tastes like sadness and despair.

You don’t do much at the hotel, getting separate rooms and Liv leaves almost immediately to… do whatever it is she does on her downtime. Probably making a necklace out of human remains or something.

You dick around for a little bit, channel surfing before landing on an old episode of Charmed and then making the decision to hesitantly open up your Twitter account to scroll through your feed. You don’t go on often, especially because of these last few months, only tweeting when Liv says you need to make sure the world knows you are not dead, and even then it’s just a retweet of something, like one of those cute kitten vines.

You go through the writers’ room account, familiarising yourself with the producer and director before you catch yourself and stop. You could not get the role. You know that this industry is more luck than talent. You shouldn’t get attached.

It doesn’t stop you from looking up the studio though, learning that they’d be shooting on the same block as several other shows including some pretty well known ones. Homeland Studios is home to shows like Star Kingdom, Reign and Rebellion, and The Wreckage, just to name a few. It’s just a subtle reminder that it’s expected to do really well, and you swallow heavily, anxiety settling in the pit of your stomach.

When it’s time for you to go to the actual audition, you are a veritable bundle of nerves, to the point where Liv has to grab you by the shoulders to take you to the studio.

“This is a bad idea,” you say, hands clenched tight enough that yor nails dig crescents in then inside of your palm. “Maybe I shouldn’t get back into this just yet. Maybe we should go back home.”

“Maybe you should shut up,” Liv says mildly, switching lanes to head for their turn off, and you just nod, meek, settling down in your seat and trying not to think of everything that could go wrong.

None of those things happen of course; in fact, the audition surprisingly goes well enough.

You somehow manage to get in the mindset of your character and deliver your lines almost flawlessly despite the fact that you felt like you just came off a rollercoaster. The executive producer, Mr. Jung, is impressed at the end of it, and the room is all smiles when you are done, stumbling back out into the arms of a waiting Liv.

“See?” she smirks, “You did just fine.”

“I’m going to throw up,” you declare, and Liv just rolls her eyes.

Later that night Liv shows up to your room, a bag of Thai takeout in hand while you are aimlessly scrolling through your phone.

“Can you believe that there are articles on this already?” you ask, glaring at the luminescent screen. “I thought this was a closed audition? How do they have pictures of me?”

“Never underestimate the power of the paparazzi,” Liv says sagely as she begins to unload containers. You eat in silence, sometimes a quip here or there about an article that popped up. The pictures are blurry at best, which many say means that it’s just a hoax. That’s a good thing, in your opinion. The last thing you want is to ease back into the water only to have a sea monster drag your down kicking and screaming.

When you’re finished, Liv puts aside her container and looks at you, determined. It’s intimidating to say the least.

“You should start looking into apartments,” she says, blunt as always.

You are taken aback. Out of all things you expected her to say, this wasn’t even on the list. “What's wrong with my apartment?” you frown, “I like it.”

The look you get in return suggests that you are stupid for asking a question like that. “Well for one it's a good three hour commute from there to the studio.”

If anything, that just makes you frown deepen. “You're acting as though I already have the part when I’ve only gone in once.”

At that, Liv is suspiciously quiet and it makes you narrow your eyes. “What? What aren't you telling me?” you demand.

Another beat of hesitation and then, “They specifically contacted me with the role. They want you to take the part.”

That makes you even more confused and you ask, “Why would they do that? I haven't been acting for a while and I doubt that I'm good for press at the moment.”

There's a sigh from Liv before she unwillingly says, “They cast one lead already and she specifically asked for you to be her co lead.”

“Who is it,” you ask, voice flat and eyebrows raised expectantly.

Liv lifts her chin to meet your gaze, as though squaring up for a fight. Well, it’s not necessarily out of the ballpark just yet. “Shin Ryujin,” she says at last, and you are certain you can hear the screeching of brakes as the world stops.

Neither of you speak while you digest this information until you glare at her and almost spit what you have to say, “Are you fucking kidding me? You want me to team up with my ex boyfriend’s ex? The ex who dumped me on the red carpet? What the ever living fuck, Liv?”

She sighs again before saying, “I knew you would react like this, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

You slump backward into your pile of pillows. “The tabloids are going to come for me, you hear that? They’re going to come and ask me a million different questions and turn me into another meme. The opportunities for this are endless.”

“Relax, you’re making this worse than it needs to be.”

Your voice is muffled through the layers of pillows, but you are certain Liv can hear you when you say, “Tomorrow. I’m flying to South America tomorrow to start my yet to be named llama farm tomorrow.”

now

M A Y

A bottle of lavender and citrus shampoo has never looked that intimidating to you.

You probably spend a good five minutes under the stream of water just staring at the thing since you first noticed it. Your hair is already soaked all the way through, and the bodywash – his bodywash, the one that makes you smell like pine trees and musk – has swirled down the drain ages ago, but you can’t stop staring at the green and purple bottle sitting so innocently in the shower caddy.

It’s the exact same brand you use, the one that only the beauty store a good fifteen minutes from here sells, and you know that it’s stupid to get all worked up over a simple bottle of shampoo, but you can’t help it, not when it makes your stomach flip like that, not when you find yourself swallowing several times.

The shower door clicks open and you jump, almost slipping if it weren’t for the muscled arm that shoots out to grasp you.

“Whoa, careful,” Minho says, voice trembling with mirth as he pulls you into his chest. You feel the hotness creep up your chest, and he notices it too, dropping a finger to your breastbone, tracing it all the up your neck. “You trying to drown in here, baby?” he asks with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“Just got sidetracked,” you say sweetly, thanking every deity you can think of that your voice doesn’t shake. You smirk and let your eyes run unashamedly over his bare form, the sinews of his neck, the hard ridges of his stomach that taper into a sharp vee at his hips. You love to stare at his naked body, love how it’s a study in sharp lines and angles that you wish to trace first with your fingers and then your teeth and tongue.

Minho doesn’t miss the way you are watching him, and he steps near you under the spray of the shower with a halfway smirk, letting it flatten his sex mussed curls.

“Well,” he all but purrs, and you shiver, letting your hands trail across his broad frame. He leans in to bite your ear while his thumbs brush over the tight bud of your nipples. “How about I sidetrack you a little more?”

Your hands spasm on his shoulders at his words, nails digging into corded muscle and he drags his teeth down your jaw.

“It’s your water bill,” you breathe, already rubbing yourself against his hardening cock, and he huffs a laugh into your skin.

Placing a kiss at the hollow of your throat, he mumbles, “It’s worth it,” and the grin that was budding across your face falls flat, stomach twisting awfully again.

You grab his hand from where it’s playing around with your breasts and drag it down to the the junction of your thighs, widening your stance slightly. “Less talking and more of this,” you tell him in a no nonsense kind of voice, his fingers taking their place on your clit, “I’m not getting sidetracked as yet.”

He misses the emotions that played across your face before, for when he finally looks up, it’s to meet a challenging eyebrow and a playful glint in your eye. He laughs again, pressing his forehead against yours and lets his fingers trail across your folds, parting them and spreading your wetness around and your eyes flutter shut, head tilted back.

“Yes ma’am,” he says, and then he’s kissing you, soft and deep while his other finger drums on your clit.

You try to put all thoughts of that damned shampoo bottle out of your head, god you try, and it works for a while, letting yourself get caught up in his fingers and tongue.

His fingers dipped in your heat, collecting all the slick that had gathered there before he dragged them back to your clit, swollen and throbbing in need for him. You allowed yourself to lean into Minho as he kept you pressed close to his body, planting small kisses at the top of your head.

It was intimate enough for you to freak out, intimate enough that it shouldn't come under whatever arrangement you and Minho had. Any rationality slipped from your mind when Minho tipped your head back to capture your lips in his.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your body falling completely into his embrace. His lips felt so fucking soft, gliding against yours smoothly, a little chapped and raw, yet so fucking perfect against yours.

You sighed into the kiss and Minho’s tongue licked your lower lip, the simple sensation sent heat straight to your core when he caught them in between in his teeth, slightly nibbling on them. You craved this feeling more than anything in the world. Nothing could compare.

“Fuck” you breathed, and he bit your lower lip, tugging at it, breaking the skin hard enough to draw blood. All you could do was let out a breathy moan, which came out as more of a whine. Your fingers grazed the nape of his neck, digging crescents into the soft skin and his overwhelming scent completely indulged you.

For a moment you forgot about his fingers until he pushed you against the shower wall, plunging two fingers into your soaking, greedy cunt waiting for him, where he belonged.

"I've barely started, baby," he cooed at you, lips meeting yours again to match the intensity of his fingers.

You couldn’t feel it in yourself to be embarrassed, you just wanted him to touch you.

“Please” you whined, and he increased the intensity with which his fingers were rubbing against your walls, a delicious pace that you were far too guilty to be both indulging in and craving for.

“M-Mnho…” you spoke, faltering at your words as he explored you.

“Feels good?” He asked, out of breath, leaning to press kiss under your ear. His tongue was languidly tracing a path along the side of your neck.

“Yeah…p-please. Fuck, don’t stop…” you moaned as he fucked in and out of you with his finger. The small kisses, the way his fingers owned every inch of you, the way his thumb rubbed circles on your swollen nub, everything was too much for you to take. You threw your head back, trying to contain yourself, unsure if you will ever get enough of this, ever get enough of him.

“Fuck, you’re always so wet for me. Are you close already?” He mumbled, watching you.

“Just fuck me” you breathed, of course, Minho isn't one to make any of this easy for you.

“I know, baby. Your cunt can't be left untouched,” he chuckled.

“Go faster, please” You pleaded, leaning backwards to rest your head against the shower wall. You know for a fact that if it wasn't for his hands steadying you, you would barely be able to hold yourself up.

Minho knew how to push you to the edge, he knew how to curl his fingers just right inside you, his dark gaze on you, hot and determined. It was all too much.

“Please, don’t stop,” you said, knowing very well he won't.

“Don’t worry, baby. I'll make you feel so good,” he said, finding your mouth again with his own. You were far too fucked to kiss him back properly but that didn’t stop him. His fingers moved so fast inside you and his tongue explored your mouth at the same time. “Always so tight,” he mumbled, making you clench around him.

You didn't bother to reply, feeling the pressure finally build up, a tightening coil settling deep in your belly. You could hear how wet you were by how fast his fingers pulled in and out of you.

“Faster…I’m so close” you panted, feeling everything inside you build up and Minho listened to you, increasing his pace, fingering you at an insane speed, his fingers curling inside you so well.

He pulled you in for a kiss, and just then, you came, the knot uncoiling and you let out a loud moan, into his mouth. You came with repeated moans of his name and incorrigible words, and he helped you ride out your high, kissing your neck, his fingers still inside you as your thighs trembled.

"Fuck, Y/n, you have no idea how beautiful you are." You breathed out a laugh, your eyes fluttering close. “I could watch you come a hundred times.”

"You’re that great."

"Yeah? Let me wash all that grease from your hair."

Your stomach twists when he offers to wash your hair for you, an unsettling amount of domesticity in the suggestion, and you move to capture his mouth in a frantic kiss that catches him off guard for a second before he can say something else.

Soap gets in your mouth, but you ignore it in favour of kissing him harder, hands drifting up to grip his own hair, slippery between your fingers, and you stumble back into the wall behind him, his hands flying to grasp your hips.

The water beats down on you fully now that you have his back against the wall, and his hands squeeze your hips, fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass, causing you to groan in his mouth. The soap suds drip down your back, and you try your best to ignore it, focusing on the warmth of his mouth, the hardness of his cock trapped between your bodies, pressing against your stomach, until the water runs clean, and that’s when Minho growls, fumbling to turn off the tap and hauling you up against him, dripping wet.

You shriek a little when he lifts, carrying you the short distance to his bed and dropping you down on the edge of it only to kneel between your open thighs, shouldering them apart.

A hand darts to his hair, grasping it when he nuzzles the crease where your hip meets your thigh, stubble chafing in the most wonderful of ways against your skin, and it brings a smile to your face, all previous worries long gone because this you can do. Sex is just sex. This is what you signed up for all those months ago.

“Insatiable,” you tell him, tapping his cheek.

He noses at you again, this time dangerously close to your centre where you can feel his breath brush against your cunt and you shiver, waiting.

“Your fault,” he mumbles, too busy peppering your mound with light kisses.

“I wasn’t done in the shower,” you say, laying back with a sigh as he licks up your slit gently. “You distracted me.”

“That was my plan,” he says unabashedly, using his thumbs to hold your folds wide open in front of him, everything on display. Minho looks up at you with a boyish grin, “You’ll have plenty of time for that after,” he says, and keeps eye contact with you when he seals his mouth over your clit, and really, what can you say to that?

‘After’ turns out to be nearly an hour later, rinsing the combined stickiness off your skin while he changes the sheets. Your hair is long dried, a halo of frizz around your head, and a cloud of lavender scent following you wherever you go. It still makes you feel uneasy, the level of intimacy you are at now, far higher than when this entire thing started, but you make a gargantuan effort to push it away. You could just be overreacting. You have a tendency to do that sometimes.

You step out into the living room in just a ratty t-shirt of his to find him lounging on the couch in sweats, a documentary playing on the TV while he nibbles on a slice of pizza. His glasses sit lopsided on his nose as always, and it makes your heart swell with fondness.

“Ryujin’s tweeting about us again,” he says, without any preamble, “Apparently she thinks we are going to burn the building down if we are left unchecked.”

You immediately unlock your phone and open up the app, spotting the tweet at the top of your timeline, and you snort. “What an idiot,” you say fondly, “Although I’m somewhat offended that she thinks we’ll destroy the complex.”

“I know right? Come on Ryujin, we’re not monsters,” he says with a dramatic roll of his eyes, “Obviously if I wanted to get back at you for something I’d just trash your apartment. I’m not going to inconvenience the entire building just for our feud.”

“What a gentleman,” you say wryly, slumping down on the couch next to him, and he prods you with his toes.

“We should take a selfie,” he says after wiping the grease off his hands, “To show her that we’re definitely still alive and everything’s intact.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say to take a selfie? You with me? Minho? Please tell me you’re okay.”

“You’re a bit dramatic at times, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Only several times a day.”

He rolls his eyes again and reaches out for your phone, pulling up the camera app. “C’mere,” he tells you, sitting up so that his shoulder brushes against yours. You readily move into frame.

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” you say, “I feel like I should being taking a photo of you taking a selfie with me, you know, to record this historical moment-”

You only stop talking when you hear the sound of the camera going off and looks up to Minho, not even bothering to hide his smirk.

“You did not just do that,” you say, shooked just a bit, “I was talking!”

“Well if you won’t shut up and pay attention,” he teases only to have the camera go off once more.

Now it’s your turn to cackle at the look on his face, and you pat his cheek lightly. “Karma,” you say succinctly, and there’s another sound of the shutter that makes you huff. “Alright enough of that. Give me back my phone.”

He holds the phone out of your reach, grinning. “Just one more. And then you pick whichever and post it to um-” he wrinkles his nose as he tries to find the word and you can’t help but giggle.

“Instagram?” you prod him, and he makes a face, nodding in assent. “Honestly, you’re weird. Stop acting as though we would be the first actors to post a selfie together."

“Shut up,” he grumbles, knocking into you with his shoulder before lying back down on the couch. His eyes drift shut. “Just make sure that in whatever you post up, you get my good side.”

“You don’t have a good side.”

“Rude,” he says, though there’s a smile tugging at his lips that causes one to appear on your face. You never thought that the two of you’d get here, even when you started fucking, and now you did, and it leaves you warm and fuzzy inside, this friendship you have developed with him. It also fans the flames of your anxiety, wondering if you should just stop having sex entirely before it permanently screws up your friendship into something irreparable.

It doesn’t stop you from posting the picture though, turning off all notifications and throwing your phone on the coffee table before wedging yourself between the back of the couch and him to watch whatever it is he found on Netflix for them. His arm ends up around you, and you snuggle into it, perfectly content for the time being.

before: 12 months ago

M A Y

Shin Ryujin hasn’t changed since the last time you saw her.

Of course, you have only seen her twice before, once at the afterparty of an awards show where you had possibly the most uncomfortable conversation of your life, and the other time when you found her sitting on your – their? – ex boyfriend’s lap.

She is still the perfect mixture of cute and hot, all cute features and sharp edges that cut a pretty damn beautiful figure. She’s still bubbly and lively, eyes impassively trained on you for the moment you enter the room, and she still makes you feel nervous, mortified and uncomfortable all at the same time.

You get the part, to no one’s surprise, but the actual cast listing hasn’t been released yet, not until they have all gone through a table read.

Unfortunately, as if life loves playing these little, mortifying games with you, you are placed in the seat next to Ryujin and it’s awkward to say the least. It’s still early with half the cast not here as yet and there’s only so much fake texting you can pretend to do before it becomes noticeable.

Finally, you crack, turning in your seat to say, “So. This is awkward.”

She lifts a single perfectly manicured eyebrow. “What, most friendships don’t start with you realising you’re not dating the same two timing scumbag as someone else?” she asks, keeping a perfectly straight face.

“Is that what we are?” you ask, perhaps a bit too quickly, “Friends?”

Ryujin scrutinises you a little bit, as though expecting there to be some sort of alternative motive, and you wonder where all her extraversion energy has dissipated or if she was always like this. Then, Ryujin must not have found any twisted meaning behind your words because she leans back with a half a smile and says, “Yeah, Y/n. We are friends.”

You try to bite back a smile but you probably don't succeed, especially since Ryujin shoots you a sly, sidelong look and gently knocks her elbow into yours. You mimic the motion, knocking back into her in return before frowning as another question comes to mind.

“Why did you request me to be your co-star?” you ask falteringly, “We have only met twice, and one of those times happened to be with you and my ex were naked in bed together.”

“Good times that was,” she says with a wry twist of her lips. She turns so that her whole body is facing you and worries her lip between her teeth. “Honestly, I don't know. I mean, I have seen your stuff Y/n, you’re good at what you do and what happened all those months ago-” You stiffen and you know Ryujin notices as she slows her speech, “-was pretty shitty. But you can get back up again eventually and if this was the opportunity for that, then why not?”

“It was the least pretty shitty thing, it was a pretty mortifying experience,” you point out and Ryujin laughs.

“Yeah I figured. Getting outed and broken up with within the span of seven minutes? Ouch,” she winces and you are pretty sure you end up gaping at her. She leans over and taps your mouth closed with a ‘click.’ “Take it from me,” she says, resting a hand on her arm chair, “One bad experience doesn’t mean you have to hide away forever.”

You stare at her for a beat longer before a shaky smile unfurls itself across your face. “I like you, Shin Ryujin,” you declare and get a smile that’s all teeth in response.

“Good,” she nods, “Because hopefully we are gonna be seeing each other a lot for the next few months.”

And with one last shared grin, the directors and producers enter the room, the room filled with all the actors for script-writing, calling them all to silence to begin the table read.

It goes surprisingly well if you do say so. The cast is fun and quirky, each of them bringing something new to the table and there’s something about firing off quick witted banter with Ryujin, both of you smirking just a little while you do so, that just seals the deal for you. For the first time in a long you actually feel truly at home. Acting has always been something which put you at ease, and despite the bigger picture demanding more than what just interest can fulfill, the idea of associating bad memories to your passion wasn't the best.

“Hey,” Ryujin calls out when it’s all over and she’s walking over to catch a cab, “Wait up.”

You slow to a stop, turning to look at her as she catches up. “What’s up?”

She comes to a stop in front of you, shifting her weight from one leg to another and fingers the end of her ponytail. “Where are you staying?”

“Huh?”

“You’re from Busan right?” she asks, and you nod once, “So you need a place to stay while we’re filming.”

Right now you are still living out of your duffle in the single hotel room. Liv left a few days prior, once she was sure that you weren't going to run, and you have been on your own since, not even sparing a thought about your housing predicament.

“Fuck,” you groan, raking a careless hand through your hair, “I forgot about that. And we start shooting in a week, dammit.”

She smiles at you, the same sharp one as before, but you can see the nervous tightening around her eyes. “Well actually,” she begins, hesitating slightly, “I have a spare room. If you’re interested that is.”

It takes you a few seconds to realise that you’re gaping at her, mouth hanging open just a little and you hasten to shut it. “What – are you sure?” you sputter, “Because you don’t have to; it’s totally fine, I could just-”

“What?” she interrupts with a raised brow, “Live in a hotel room until you find somewhere to rent? Sounds fun.”

“Ryujin, I-” you falter searching for the right words. “Why?” is what you come up with in the end, looking up at her beseechingly.

Her face softens infinitesimally. “You look like you could use a friend,” she says, “A real friend. Someone other than your agent.”

There’s a bit of a sting hidden beneath her words, and you find yourself scuffing the loose gravel with the toe of your shoe. She’s not wrong; you have been in this industry for ages and while you have had acquaintances here and there, none of them had ever been able to quite move into the friendship category.

“You don’t even know me,” you warn, “I could be a terrible roommate.”

She shrugs. “Hey, if that idiot had the balls to date both of us and then cheat, we must have something in common, right?”

It gets a smile out of you. “I guess so.”

“So. You up for it?”

You duck your head for a moment to hide what must be a truly ridiculous grin. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m in.”

The two of you shake on it and two days later you move in with her. At least unofficially.

It’s a bit of a hassle getting everything together; you have to find your way back down to your old apartment considering Liv was the one who drove you up here in the first place, and then figure out what to pack in your car to tote back up to your new place. It’s in doing all of this that you realise the sheer amount of crap you have come to own. Really, you have no idea how your wardrobe didn’t explode before because you have a truly frightening amount of clothes.

At the end of it, everything works out for the best.

You and Ryujin spend the day before you’re scheduled to start shooting unpacking your things in the spare room and it’s… fun. You haven’t had this much fun in a long time, enthusiastically singing along to trashy pop music playing over the radio while the two of you unload box after box. It turns out Ryujin's spare room was a lab of sorts, all sorts of knickknacks and tools spread out.

“They were going to go back in storage when I started working again anyway,” she says, brushing off your concern as she dumps them into her previously empty boxes, “Relax Y/n.”

When it’s all said and done, the two of you find yourselves sprawled off on the sofa, watching some sort of mindless reality TV show while you split a pizza. As far as days go, this one is a veritable success, and, watching Ryujin trying to balance straws on her nose while they lounge around together in their pyjamas, you think that you made a good choice.

M A Y

Your first day on set is… interesting to say the least.

The couple of scenes you do go well, the cast is just as amicable as before and the crew is a riot. Not to mention you are slowly coming around making friends with a handful of other people around you. It makes you feel like you have somewhat successfully navigated your adult life.

That isn’t what makes it interesting though; no what makes it interesting is your run in with some overweening asshole while you were still in your car.

There’s a tap on the glass which causes you to jump, and when your head snaps towards the source, there is a man standing right by your door, frowning. He’s fairly handsome, with caramel skin and bedhead, extremely attractive, and you swear that you know him from somewhere but you can’t put your finger on it. You don’t dwell on it though, because he’s standing outside your car, arms crossed over his – admittedly broad – chest and looking thoroughly put out.

“Can I help you?” you ask, polite, after rolling down the window.

The man doesn’t seem to have any regards for manners however as his upper lip curls into a sneer and he says, “You’re in my parking spot, miss.”

You blink. You're fairly certain that this spot didn’t have anything labelling it as reserved when you pulled into it. So, like any person would do, you step out of the car to check. As you suspected, there’s nothing there saying that it belongs to anyone else and you whirl around to tell him as much.

He just scoffs at you in response. “Listen, I know you’re a newbie and all but that’s been my spot for the last two and a half years, so if you could kindly fuck off, it would be much appreciated.”

“Wow, a real gentleman, aren’t you?” you hiss, and then make a point about pressing the button on your keys so that your car locks with a cheery chirp. “This is the first time I’ve seen you all week so maybe you should be the one kindly fucking off.”

“All week, hmm?” he says, eyebrows raising, “Funny because in my two years of being here this is the first time I’m seeing you so.”

The way he says it makes it seem like you are the one at fault for taking an unmarked parking spot. It causes your hackles to rise and you find yourself sniping, “Well maybe if you spent less time being a diva and more time trying to be punctual, then maybe you’d have your precious parking space!”

His eyebrows seem to have disappeared up his hairline. “A diva?” he sputters, before glaring at you once more, “Please. As if you’re one to talk, miss.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” you huff, before stomping your foot and saying, “And stop calling me miss, dammit! You don’t know me.”

“I know your type,” he drawls, and his lips twist into a smirk. The change in his expression is going to give you whiplash, you’re sure of it, what with the way he keeps going from angry to smug. He presses on, “Whiny girl trying to make it big. Thinks that the world has fucked her over and she’s out to show them that she’s more than just a pretty face.” You can’t help but wince as his words hit a little bit too close to home, and his smirk just widens. “If the glass slipper fits, Cinderella. Try not to break it.”

“Are you always this much of an asshole to strangers?” you fire back after a moment of hesitation, “Or am I special?”

“What do you think?”

“I think,” you sniff, hiking your bag up on your shoulder, “That you’re a dick and I hope someone spills hot coffee on that pretty face of yours.”

And with that you turn on your heel, stalking off to stage four where you are set to begin shooting today. He yells something indistinguishable from behind you and you don't even bother to turn around, just flip him off over your shoulder.

You stomp on to the set, seething over the altercation until Ryujin calls you out on it with a, “Who pissed in your coffee?”

“Haven’t had any as yet,” you reply, slamming your bag down on the table and reaching for the pot of the aforementioned drink.

“No wonder you’re glaring daggers at everything that moves. Coffee is essential, Y/n. It’s our ambrosia.”

That gets a smile out of you and you feel the tension slowly start to work its way out of your shoulders. You quickly fix your cuppa to suit – two sugars with the barest dab of milk – and take a huge sip, sighing as it washes down your throat. “I can believe that,” you say and take another sip. “But it wasn’t my caffeinated – or lack thereof – self that brought this on. Just some asshole in the car park.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I feel like I know him from somewhere so he’s probably an actor too, but god, he’s such a dick. I wanted to punch him in the face.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you. We all know you have got a mean right hook.”

You felt the heat creep up your neck and face. “I’m sorry, if that asshole had the gall to try and get back with you at your movie premier you’re telling me you wouldn’t punch him?”

“No, I’d kick him in the balls and take a picture to use as the newest reaction photo. Caption: when you get hit by the feels.”

You snort a laugh and drain the rest of your coffee. “I better head to hair and makeup. I have a feeling they are going to need some time to tame this into some form of neatness,” you say, gesturing to the tangle of your hair thrown together in a sloppy bun at the top of your head.

Ryujin nods, reaching for a peach. “I should probably do the same. After we are done we can raid craft services before Felix and Jeongin get to it.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

After that, everything is smooth sailing and you easily push the incident from your mind, getting into character as you call them on set. You shoot three scenes that day, and you and Ryujin learn how to fire fake guns. It’s fun, and when you’re done, Felix suggests that they all head for celebratory pizza at Lia’s around the corner. You feel right at home with them, with all of your co-stars, as you chat and trade stories over weak beer and greasy pizza, and when you and Ryujin stumble back home later, you pretty much just collapse into bed, only toeing off your shoes.

The rest of the week goes by quickly, and on Friday you are the only one who needs to go in, leaving Ryujin at home watching cartoons curled up on their couch with a bowl of soggy cereal. It’s easier than you expected, having her as a roommate. You are both still careful around each other, but by each passing day the walls are slowly being chipped away.

“Want me to pick up anything on my way back?” you ask while slipping on your shoes.

She shakes her head. “Nah. Don’t forget though, I invited Minho over later. I can’t believe you’ve been here a week and you haven’t met him yet.”

“You mean your imaginary friend who lives down the hall?” you tease.

“He’s not imaginary,” she insists, laughter colouring her voice, “I don’t know why you keep insisting he is.”

“Probably because you keep referencing him but I’ve never seen him.”

“Because he’s working somewhere else in the meantime. He left Monday evening.”

“Uh huh,” you say, still sceptical, “Sure. I’m going now. Say hi to your other imaginary friends for me!”

You hear a loud, “He's not imaginary, dammit Y/n!” as the door shuts behind you and you can’t help but grin to yourself as you jog down the stairs.

* * *

Work is a bit boring today with most of the cast not there. You are needed for two scenes with a couple extras, one fake fight where your stunt double is doing most of the work, and then the resulting interrogation scene. It’s nice, but dull, and you take to snapchatting Ryujin various pieces of set equipment until you flip her off, not answering anymore after she presumably switches off her phone.

You get to leave early when your scenes are done, and stop off at the bakery around the corner to pick up some pastries before heading home.

Their voices can be heard through the door as you toggle the lock, and you can't help but bite back a smile when you hear Ryujin bark out a laugh.

“Honey I'm home,” you announce as you fling the door open, kicking your shoes off in the hallway.

There’s a muffled, “In here!” coming from the kitchen as well as the tantalising waft of spices that has your stomach growling.

The first thing you notice as you round the corner is the guy standing by the stove all messy yet neat hair and deliciously broad shoulders, stirring the pot while Ryujin goes on about something and your mouth waters for more than one reason. The second thing you notice when he turns a bit, giving you a glimpse of his side profile, is that he looks shockingly familiar. That one is fleeting however, only to be replaced by the third and final thing, when Ryujin finally sees you standing on the edge of the kitchen.

“Y/n!” she yells out in greeting, and when the man turns around, giving you a good look at his face, your jaw actually drops.

Because standing there in the middle of your kitchen, looking surly as ever is the parking space asshole.

Seriously, what the fuck.

“Y/n,” Ryujin says again, sliding off her perch on the counter, “This is Minho. The one who you thought were imaginary.”

“I wish he was imaginary,” you mumble under your breath.

“What was that?”

“I said we have met,” you correct yourself with a tight smile and that’s when his lips curl up in a lazy smirk.

“That we have,” he drawls, shoving his hands in his pants pocket. He nods at you in acknowledgement. “Miss.”

“Douchebag.”

Ryujin is looking between the two of you, perplexed. “How–” she falters, eyebrows creasing together.

“He's the carpark asshole,” you say, flat, and that’s when Ryujin laughs, loud and bright, bouncing off the kitchen cabinets.

“Nah,” she smirks, patting him on the shoulder, “Just a regular asshole.”

“Thanks Ryujin.”

She whirls around to face him, smacking his bicep lightly. “I can’t believe the girl you were complaining about was Y/n. And Y/n,” she says, cutting a glance back at her, “Why didn’t you tell me it was Minho? I would have helped come up with some more colourful insults for him.”

“Again, thank you Ryujin.”

You feel your cheeks get warm and you duck your head, saying sheepishly, “I uh, I didn’t exactly recognise him at first.”

You don’t have to look up to know that the pair is gaping at you. Well, Ryujin is gaping at you, that is. Minho on the other hand is still trying to be cool and pretend that he’s not bothered by your admission.

“...Seriously?”

“It’s not like I watch the show okay?” you defend yourself, “I only know about it in passing.”

“Yeah, but he was on like every news outlet for the first year of it because of his fuck ups.”

“Why am I friends with you again?” Minho asks to no one in particular and you both ignore him.

Ryujin is still frowning at you, looking at you a bit suspiciously. “You really didn’t know?”

“Trust me, if I knew who he was and that he was your friend, I wouldn’t have said half of those things,” you sigh, using both your hands to push your hair back. You look at Minho properly for the first time since you realised who he was, and he’s just as stupidly hot as before. It makes you frown. “So does being friends with my roommate mean that I’ll have to see you around here often?” you ask, and his grin turns wicked.

“Something like that,” he shrugs, being deliberately vague, and turns back to the stew bubbling away on the stove.

Next to him, Ryujin rolls her eyes and says, “He lives down the hall and he’s usually over most nights if our schedules permits it.”

You feel your eyes flicker close of their own accord. “Great,” you sigh, and then they snap open almost immediately. “Wait, he lives here?” You look between the two of them before pinching the bridge of your nose. “What, is there some sort of celebrity quota the complex needs to fill or something? Is James Franco gonna pop up downstairs while I’m getting my mail?”

“Why James Franco?” Minho butts in mildly as he turns the gas off, “Why not Dave? He’s obviously the better Franco.”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up.”

“Both of you shut the fuck up,” grouses Ryujin, stretching up to get the bowls from the top cabinet. The floor squeaks as she moves and you all wince.

“Need wheels for walking, Ryujin?” he asks, elbowing her out of the way to grab the bowls and he starts ladling the food into them.

“Nah. I just forgot to see about it this weekend,” she says, setting the table. You remain standing there in the kitchen, awkwardly holding the box of pastries. “Got sidetracked with a new show and all, this floor is still irritating though.”

“Uh huh,” he says, before his eyes drift over to you and he lifts an eyebrow, “What, you just gonna stand there all day, sweetheart?”

You jump, startled, and throw a weak glare at him. “No. Shut up,” you reply, placing the box on the counter and grabbing the cutlery from the drawer. Ryujin pops open a bottle of wine and soon enough you are all sitting in silence, eating. You have to begrudgingly admit that whatever it is he made ('Galbi Jjim,’ he had said, and the word sounds clumsy in your mouth) tastes amazing. Of course, you’re not going to tell him that; he’s already got a big head and you don't need to feed his ego even more.

You do however need him to feed you and Ryunjin more; his cooking is leagues better than whatever you and Ryujin can manage to put together.

When dinner is over and you have suffered through the appropriate amount of smalltalk, you finally give in and ask, “So how did this,” you gesture between them, “Happen?”

Ryujin cackles and it unnerves you just a bit.

“We hooked up after the incident,” Ryujin shrugs unashamedly. Minho shrugs but you notice a hint of redness creeping up his neck. “I woke up to this asshole sitting in my kitchen drinking my coffee–”

“Your shitty coffee,” he interjects and she elbows him in the stomach.

“–going through my apartment plans–”

“She wanted to move to the south side,” he snorts derisively, “Can you imagine? She wouldn't survive a week down there with the health junkies.”

“This is my story shut up,” Ryujin says without any heat behind her words, “But yeah, there we were, the random guy I hooked up with giving me real estate advice while he stood half naked in my kitchen, and the next thing I knew, I was signing the lease and he was helping me move in here..”

“Do all your friendships begin this weird?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to hide an amused smile.

She winks at you. “Only the good ones,” she says, and that gets a laugh out of you.

You offer to do the dishes after while they set up shop in the living room, bickering goodnaturedly over whose turn it is to pick something to watch on Netflix. You can’t stop your eyes from straying though, looking over at him ever so often for some strange reason.

* * *

Minho is an enigma.

On one hand, he seems like the type of person you wouldn’t mind having as a friend. His humour isn’t quite as dark as Ryujin’s but it’s drier, and he says almost everything with his lips curled up in a smirk, not to mention they have most of the same views on certain topics. That doesn’t stop the two of you from arguing all the time though; at the studio, at the apartment, it doesn’t matter where, you always find something to disagree over.

“You guys are ridiculous,” Ryujin says, rolling her eyes. You were running through lines on your break when Minho appeared, immediately throwing himself on the couch next to you, despite the fact that there were several other seats available.

“You are ridiculous,” you sulk, jabbing him in the ribs with your elbow just because.

Minho reacts like the mature adult he is by sticking his tongue out at you and swatting your thigh easily. “I’m just here to say hi to my friend Ryujin while I’m on lunch,” he says, loosening his tie, “Dunno what the princess’ reason is though.”

“I work here,” you reply, flat. “You’re literally on set where I work. Where else would I be?”

“Jesus, you guys are a headache,” sighs Ryujin when you and Minho start bickering once more, although you can hear the love peeking through. Somewhat.

“It’s his fault,” you mumble, and he tugs on your hair.

Ryujin groans again, swatting you both with her rolled up script. “The two of you are children,” she announces, ignoring your indignant yelps of pain.

It doesn’t help that Minho always seems to be around. He spends most of his lunch breaks on your set, dragging Hyunjin over with him, and then spends most of that time antagonising you. When you’re not filming, he’s over on your couch, needling them into watching the most boring movies ever, and you’re certain that the only reason Ryujin hasn’t kicked him out yet is because he makes them dinner most nights.

“Don’t you have your own apartment?” you somewhat grouse as soon as you spot him lounging on the couch one Sunday morning. You have just woken up, still squinting suspiciously at everything, and it’s not fair that he still manages to look so good that early in the morning. It accounts for about 30% of your bad mood.

Minho just gives you a quick up down, a hint of smirk making itself known and you refuse to fidget, refuse to pull down the shorts you know are riding high on your thigh, refuse to brush back the tangled snarl of hair partially obscuring your vision. “But if I was in my apartment then how would I see your beautiful face, sunshine?”

You don't even dignify that with a response, just trudging your way across the room into the kitchen where Ryujin is already sitting at the table, gulping down coffee like it’s her job.

“Does he ever go home?” you ask, rummaging around the fridge for some milk. “How’d you even put up with him before?”

She just shrugs. “He’s been around more often now that you’re here” she says offhand, and you glance sidelong at her, stopping mid stretch for the cereal box.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs, but she can’t quite hide the smug little smile pulling at her mouth. “Nothing at all.”

You are fairly certain that it’s something, so you press on, “Come on. Obviously you meant something with it. What aren’t you telling me?”

Ryujin slumps back in her chair with a roll of her eyes and pitches her voice low so that it doesn't carry. “Look, he used to visit before, yeah, but since you’re living here now, he’s coming over every day and actually leaving his set to come to ours. What do you think might have caused the change of heart.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “What are you insinuating, Ryujin?”

“You know damn well what I’m insinuating, Y/n.”

“I know that it sounds like a load of bullshit because-”

“Because it’s so implausible that Minho might like you?” she cuts in with a raised eyebrow, “I’ve known that boy for a while. There’s something going on with him. There’s something going on with both of you, and when it finally happens, I’m going to say I told you so.”

“Please,” you scoff as you drown your cereal in milk, “Nothing is going to happen between us.”

J U N E

“Fuck,” he says stumbling back. His eyes are wide and frenzied, lips red, and you're fairly certain you look the same way.

You run a shaky hand through your hair, possibly making it even messier but you don’t really care, not when you have bigger things to worry about like the fact that you just kissed Lee Minho while in the middle of arguing with him.

“Fuck.”

He breathes out a shaky laugh, fidgeting with the tie around his neck. “Pretty sure I just said that.”

“It deserves to be said again because – fuck.”

“Eloquent aren’t you?” he mutters, looking everywhere in the room but at you and you feel a frown tugging down the corners of your mouth.

“This never happened,” you tell him, taking a step closer and forcing him to look at you. “And this is never going to happen again. Got it?”

A muscle ticks in his jaw, eyes hard when he finally meets your gaze. “Whatever the hell you want, Y/n,” he says with abit of an edge, and you nod once before stalking out.

It’s only once you’re out of sight- of him, the trailer and everything else – tucked away in a dusty corridor that leads between studios, do you lean against the wall, breathing shakily as you brush the pads of your fingers across your lips, still tingling.

“Never again,” you mutter, already feeling the migraine building at the base of your skull.

now

M A Y

There’s sunlight streaming through the blinds, and you groan, throwing an arm over your eyes as you move further away from Minho. It’s warm, even with the air conditioner on full blast, and your body is sticky with sweat underneath the light linen blanket. You kick it off with a huff, hoping that maybe you can finally lapse back into a state of blissful unconsciousness, but it’s to no avail.

The bed vibrates with unheard chuckles and you crane your neck to throw a glare at him from over your shoulder.

“Shut up,” you groan. He's ridiculous, lying spread out on the bed without a stitch of clothing to his name, skin all pale and carmel smooth while his hair is a tousled mess. It's upsetting how good he looks, and you shove your face in your pillow so that you don't have to watch him a moment longer.

He just laughs again, this time louder and shuffles closer, ignoring your mewl of displeasure as he pulls his body flush against yours. “Good morning baby,” the coos in your ear before placing a line of sloppy kisses down the side of your neck.

You squirm in his arms, trying in vain to bat him away, but he just laughs again, letting his hair chafe against your skin as he grabs both your wrists and pins your hands above your head, sending a pang of want through you.

“Asshole,” you mutter, even as you tilt your head back to let him suck softly on your pulse point. The hand holding your wrists together applies a bit more pressure to them and he presses more firmly against you until you whine. “It’s hot,” you complain.

His teeth grazes your earlobe when he shifts, and you sigh, relaxing into him. “Mmm, that you are,” he says into your skin, free hand moving to palm your breast. Your lips part in a silent moan when he squeezes it, thumb flicking over your nipple, and he ruts against your ass, letting you feel him, already hard and hot.

“I’m all sweaty and sticky,” you warn, though your protests are getting more and more feeble by the minute, especially when he nips at your jaw gently, hand leaving your chest and moving south to brush across your clit.

His responding hum reverberates through you and you whimper as his fingers tease your cunt. “Well, let’s see if we could make you sweatier and stickier,” he says, and you have to huff out a laugh, startled and bright, because he’s ridiculous .

“What an – oh,” the rest of your sentence is replaced by a moan when he easily lifts your leg, hitching it over his hip, and slides in, all hot and heavy and perfect.

You whimper again when he grunts into your neck as he bottoms out, and you stay like that for a moment, just basking in the feel of each other before he finally starts to move.

He can only give you short, shallow thrusts like this, but more than makes up for it by using the pad of his thumb to rub gentle circles on your clit. You grind back against him, wrists straining against his hands, but he doesn’t let up, no matter how much you ask.

Then he’s hitching your leg up higher, changing the angle inside of you that has you seeing white, almost choking on your tongue as you spasm against him, wanting him to reach you deeper.

“Fuck, Minho, right there,” you beg, turning your head blindly in search of his lips, and he obliges you, giving you a kiss that’s more tooth than lip, but you still whimper, teetering on the edge.

Sweat gathers across your bodies, and you can feel your hair sticking to your temples, to the back of your neck, and he makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat when you inadvertently clench down on him. He finally lets go of your hands, only grabbing hold of your thigh, keeping it in place as he repeats the motion from before that has you seeing stars.

“Better?” he asks, voice strained, and all you can do is nod, too busy panting to string actual words together. You clutch on to the pillow when he does it a third time, free hand darting back down to pinch your clit, needing something to anchor you to reality.

“I’m so- I’m so,” you almost sob, thrashing, and his laugh is low and gravelly behind you, lips fastening to your pulse point and causing you to cry out. “Minho.”

He soothes you with sweet nothings muttered in your ear, but it does nothing to quelch the burning need inside you. Only when his fingers bear down on your clit too, thrusting in as deep as he can go, do you keen loudly, walls fluttering around him as you come.

It takes both of you by surprise, the sheer intensity of it, and for one brilliant, mind numbing moment, everything goes blank, and you just feel as though you're blissfully floating in space, electricity pulsing beneath your skin.

You come back slowly, your harsh breaths mingling with his as he softens inside of you, and he squeezes the fleshy part of your stomach gently before rolling onto his back. You go with him, twisting so that you now lie on his chest, sweat soaked skin sticking together, too lazy to actually go and clean up.

Minho pets the hair away from your face and pecks you on nose, laughing when you wrinkle it in response. “Morning,” he drawls again, hand trailing up your spine. “We should probably get up.”

You hum noncommittally, letting your head droop forward on his chest with a sigh. “I’m not moving for at least another hour,” you tell him, and he chuckles again, brushing his lips across the crown of your head. “Don’t let it get to your head” you tack on when you notice him crowing, and he pinches your thigh in response.

* * *

It’s Friday.

You have spent almost an entire week at his apartment, shirking your responsibilities in favour of playing house with Minho.

The intimacy should be too much: staying several nights in a row, cuddling with him after sex while he does things like that, but you can’t find it in you to muster up the energy to care, not when your blood is still roaring in your eyes and sheets have yet to cool.

“We've got time,” you think you hear him say through the fog settling in your mind, squeezing your hand, before you finally drift off.

before: 10 months ago

J U L Y

You get a late invite to the Seasonal Con.

Only Ryujin and you are going, along with the producer, and it’s not even a real panel, just a screening of the pilot episode to a group of maybe fifty people, and then fielding whatever questions the crowd might have.

It’s your first major event ever since you stumbled back on the scene two months ago and you're equal parts excited and terrified.

“Hey,” says Ryujin, nudging you gently as you turn out the sheets. You are both staying at your apartment instead of renting a hotel, since it’s only a half an hour drive from the convention centre. “Relax,” she says, “It’s not like we are going to be dealing with a lot of press or anything. Just smile and look pretty.”

“Easy for you to say,” you mumble under your breath, and this time there’s nothing gentle in the way Ryujin elbows you.

* * *

The morning that you are scheduled to go to the Seasonal Con, you are mostly fine. You get up and help Ryujin make pancakes for breakfast, then you shower and do your makeup, donning a cute sundress, and even going as far as to make sure your hair is in some semblance of order and that your makeup perfectly suits your dress.

You are fine.

Ryujin has to press her hand against your thigh to stop you from shaking your leg.

You throw her a thin smile in return. “What, you’re not gonna buy me dinner first?” you try to joke, but even you can hear how weak it sounds, and Ryujin gives you a meaningful squeeze.

“You got this.”

And she’s right. Mostly.

The screening is fine, the audience seems to be genuinely interested in the show, and they even garner more than a few laughs which probably made you disproportionately happy, but whatever. You are glad people are liking something that you helped to make. You do get asked a few questions later on, just a handful of things about the show that your producer answers mostly, and afterwards, a couple fans ask for pictures and autographs.

It’s all very textbook, but you breathe a sigh of relief once it’s all over, wringing out your shoulders.

“See?” says Ryujin with a grin as you walk out of the hall. The adjacent hallway is mercifully empty, free of any onlookers for a few moments. “You made it through.” You have got the rest of the day to yourselves and while you would rather go home immediately, Ryujin convinced you to stay a little while, just an hour or so.

“I guess it wasn’t that bad,” you concede, and Ryujin nudges you until you duck your head in a grin. “Fine, okay, it was fun. Jeez, you have pointy elbows.”

She just smiles angelically at you, and ducks out of the way before you can tug on her ponytail. “Everything’s better with Shin Ryujin around,” she announces.

“That is your new tagline, Ryujin?” a voice drawls from behind the two of you and both of you come to a stop.

You immediately recognise the speaker and your eyes fall shut as you take a calming breath, tilting your head heavenwards. You do not need this right now, especially not when your day was actually starting to look up. Ryujin on the other hand has no qualms about whipping around with a grin, saying a cheery, “Hey Minho,” in greeting.

He nods in acknowledgement before sidling alongside you, and you still have your eyes wrenched shut. “Y/n,” he says, lightly hip checking you.

That’s when you open your eyes, giving him a clinical up and down. He looks good as always, wearing a leather jacket over a soft tee with a faded Hogwarts insignia on it, and his cap is lurched lopsided in a way that is certainly not adorable. You think it might be a Pokemon one, but you don't want to spare him the extra thought.

You purse your lips. “Asshole.”

Minho chuckles, holding the door open for you as you enter the main part of the convention centre. People are swarming all over the place and while no one outright stares at them, you begin to feel the anxiety creeping back up your spine and quicken your pace, Ryujin right at your side.

“Hey, I’m just being nice,” he says, jogging to catch up with them.

“Fuck your nice.”

“Someone’s hostile today,” he frowns, staring down at you. His eyes flit over to Ryujin and he asks, “What’s up with her?”

“I’m right here you know,” you snap, “You don’t need to ask other people when I’m literally standing right in front of you.”

“Easy baby,” he soothes, a hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. There’s still a dip between his eyebrows as he appraises you carefully, and you look away, feeling a flush of hotness creep up the back of your neck. Behind you, you can feel Ryujin shaking with silent laughter.

“Leave me alone,” you say, shrugging off his arm and stalking off. You don’t get very far before the other two catch up to you, Minho catching you by your wrist this time.

He opens his mouth to say something – no doubt another snide jab at you – but is interrupted by a girl, clutching her phone tightly and staring at him in wide eyed amazement.

“I’m sorry, but can I get a quick photo please?” she says in a rush, “I’m a huge fan of your show!”

He presses his lips together in a line, giving you one last look, before turning to the girl with a charming smile. “Sure,” he says, posing for the selfie, and the next thing he knows, there’s a whole crowd around them, asking for autographs and pictures, blocking them in.

Honestly, the only thing that stops you from taking off then and there is Ryujin’s hand resting on the crook of your elbow through the entire ordeal. Besides, almost all of them are for Minho anyway. Hardly anyone spares them a second glance.

They must have been standing there for over five minutes before he says, loud and clear, “Sorry guys, I have to get to lunch, but I’ll be doing a signing at two if you want to come over.”

There’s general murmurs of disappointment from the crowd and they start to thin out. But, before they leave completely, Minho curls his arm around your shoulders with a, “Come on, love,” that sends a hushed whispers throughout the crowd and the tingle that was prickling under your skin moments before slams back into you, full force, no doubt faltering your public image.

Ryujin is all out cackling behind them and the moment you are all out of the public eye, you plan on ripping her a new one for her betrayal.

“You’re such a dick,” you hiss at Minho, trying to escape his hold. He just pulls you even further into his side and ducks his head to whisper,

“I’m doing you a favour.”

You try to ignore how warm and solid he is, how he smells like cinnamon and pine trees, but it’s proving to be difficult. “Yeah, well, you can shove your favour up your ass,” you mutter, and he throws his head back, barking out a laugh.

“You’ve got a real gratitude problem, you know that?” he says, almost bitterly.

“No, just a you-problem,” you retort in a saccharine voice.

“Easy kids,” says Ryujin , not even bothering to hide her smirk. “Be careful. You never know what this is going to look like to the outside eye.”

“There’s only one way murder can look to the outside eye, Ryujin,” you say, and he just scoffs.

“I try to do one nice thing for you and what do I get?” he says, mostly to himself, finally letting his arm slip off your shoulders as you near the end of this hall. “Not even a thank you. Last time I will try to help you.”

“Good I don’t want your help,” you snap, pretending that you don’t miss the heat and heaviness of his arm around you. Your fingers brush together when you walk though, and neither of you make any attempt to create some space between yourselves.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Oh my god, you’re like an old married couple,” says Ryujin exasperatedly and you both turn to glare at her.

“Shut up, Ryujin,” both of you chorus before snapping your glares over each other.

“Jesus,” she mutters with a roll of her eyes. “I’m just saying, keep acting like that and people are going to assume things.”

Minho makes a derisive sound in the back of his throat. “Please,” he says, leading them down the corridor, presumably where the rest of his cast is hanging out, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

* * *

Your phone barely even rings once before you’re swiping accept, not even sparing a glance at the caller ID. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she deadpans, voice scratchy with disuse.

On the other end of the phone, Liv sighs, a common reaction to dealing with your mishaps. “What happened yesterday?” she asks again, already sounding tired. That’s how you know this is a big problem, because Liv never sounds tired in the morning.

“Nothing!” you say, flailing wildly, “Seriously, we were arguing as usual. That’s it. Nothing about that screams romance.”

“So he didn’t call you ‘love’?” she asks dubiously.

You hesitate, biting your lip. “Well, yes,” you relent, “But he always calls me something ridiculous. It’s meant as an insult not a pet name!”

Liv seems to ignore you. “And did he put his arm around you?”

You hesitate again. “...Yes.”

There’s another sigh coming from her end of the phone, and you screw your eyes shut as you wait for the verbal smackdown.

“Come on Y/n,” Liv starts, “You’ve been in this business long enough, you know how the public perceives things. Especially things like this.”

You swipe a hand through your tangle of hair – damaged from all that damn hairspray – and toss it up in a slipshod bun. “Can’t you skew it?” you ask, “I’m not involved with him, I do not want to be involved with him. At all. Forever. Never in my life.”

There’s silence on the other end for almost a full minute before she says slowly, “We could just let it all blow over. Dating rumours crop up everyday.”

You lift your eyebrows. “Are you suggesting that we just leave it alone?”

“It should disappear by itself. After all, this is the first time someone alluded to your relationship with Minho as anything but professional. A lot of people are probably going to flat out deny it,” she tells you. “Let the internet work it out for itself. You’ll be old news by yesterday.”

“One can only hope,” you say, shoulders slumping. “Why did I come back to this hell hole? Why didn’t I start my hopefully lucrative llama farm?”

“Goodbye Yn.”

The phone goes dead and you pull it away to glare at it. “See, my llamas would put up with my bullshit Liv. They wouldn’t abandon me because of it.”

It’s only a few minutes to eight, but you can’t go back to sleep so with a disgruntled full bodied sigh, you roll out of bed to get started on breakfast. They have only been here for three days so far, driving back up tomorrow, so you are fully aware that the fridge is woefully scant, even with the groceries they picked up on the way. There are some eggs left over though, so you scramble them, and makes some toast to go with it.

You have given into temptation, scrolling through your Twitter feed as you wait for Ryujin to wake up, sipping on your coffee. It’s not terribly bad; it’s the most notifications you have had in a long while, and most of them happen to be the same question repeated over and over in a multitude of ways: Is there something going on between you and Minho?

Your fingers itch to answer them, or maybe even just vaguely tweet something but you resist, thinking of what Liv would say if you somehow made matters worse. You are saved from being a torment to yourself only a few moments later when Ryujin stumbles in the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee pot.

“What?” she asks once she’s inhaled half a cup and is now awake enough to notice you glaring at her.

You just groan and slide your phone across the table to her, before dropping your head onto your arms. When Ryujin reads the headline she snickers, absolutely delighted.

“You called this upon me,” you say, your words muffled by the tabletop. “You fucking called this on me.”

Ryujin pets your hair aimlessly, doing more harm than good. “Look on the bright side; it’s Dispatch. No one takes it seriously.”

“My Twitter feed is like 99 per cent of people asking me if Minho and I are dating. Or having hate sex.”

“Obviously it’s the latter.”

“Obviously it’s neither.”

“Oh come on,” she says, throwing her hands up, “You’re telling me that a little bit of hate fucking isn’t going to fix this-” she makes some sort of weird gesture with her hand that you can’t even begin to comprehend, “-this whatever it is going on between you two?”

Your traitorous mind jumps to the kiss, the way he felt so hot and solid beneath your hands as he pushed you against the wall, the way you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and a shiver runs down your spine.

Never one to miss anything, Ryujin narrows her eyes at you. “Unless you already did that,” she says slowly, taking in every bit of emotion that flits across your face.

“I didn’t,” you say, dropping your gaze to the worn and scarred tabletop. “But I did kiss him.”

“I knew it!”

“It was a one time thing that we both agreed to ignore,” you’re quick to point out, and Ryujin just snorts.

“Yeah. Right. Okay,” she says, “You can miss me with that ‘one time’ bullshit.”

“Ryujin!”

“What?” she shrugs, “It’s true. There’s obviously something there.”

“There’s nothing but hate and animosity there.”

“Again, I point you towards hate sex.”

“How about I point you towards the door instead. God, you’re worse than the internet.”

Ryujin holds her hands up in surrender. “Alright, let’s not get too crazy,” she says, although her smile is still far too smug. She takes another sip of her coffee. “But, just let it be known that I still reserve the right to say I told you so when it does actually happen.”

You just groan, letting your head fall against the table.

A U G U S T

Still though, you can’t help but think about Ryujin's words.

It’s not your fault okay? Ryujin just managed to make your mind conjure up some very…interesting scenarios for you over the last couple of weeks.

You can no longer look at Minho for, every time you do so, you can only picture the feel of his mouth on yours and wonder if it’s just as good at other things as it is as kissing, can only wonder what else those hands of his can do, can only wonder if he is as good as Ryujin slyly told you he was.

It’s turning you into a mess to be honest, which is why, a few weeks after they returned from Season Con, you find yourself blurting out, “Ryujin thinks we should fuck,” as soon as you are left alone in your trailer with him.

You wait until he’s taken a sip of water to say it, and you’re rewarded by him hacking his lungs out.

“Pray tell,” he wheezes, “Why does Ryujin think we should fuck?”

You shrug. “She says that it will help us get along better. You know, once we get rid of all that unwanted sexual tension. Purely platonic fucking and we can actually stand to be in the same room as each other.”

“Right,” he says, and there’s something a bit off to his voice. You look up almost immediately, frowning, and catch the tail end of some unknown emotion flitting across his face. He hitches an eyebrow when he catches you looking. “And what do you think?”

“What do you mean ‘what do I think’?”

He shrugs. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

You don’t understand how he can be so blasé about discussing it, not when you are already three steps closer to looking like an alarmed porcupine.

“I think it could be worth a shot,” you say, as casually as possible with your chin held high.

Across from you his mouth curves into the most sinful of smiles and he looks at you through hooded eyes. “You wanna fuck me, Y/n?” he murmurs, voice dropping several octaves, and it’s all you can do to not squirm in your seat, warmth settling heavy and wonderful in your stomach.

“It’s just a thought, okay? Ryujin might have definitely been onto something and who knows maybe it could work if we just fucked once and got it out of our systems I mean-”

“Hey Y/n?” he says, interrupting your steady stream of nonsensical babble, and you exhale shakily.

“Yeah?” He’s much closer than you remember him being, and when you look up, almost to the point where you can count each individual eyelash, you look elsewhere.

“Shut up,” he murmurs, and then his hand is wrapping around your jaw, bridging the gap between the two of you.

His mouth is just as you remembered, hard and warm, tongue flickering against yours as he pulls your body to him. You make a soft sound of surprise in the back of your throat, and your hands immediately dart to his hair, feeling the silky strands sift through your fingers. His thumb traces your cheekbone as he sucks on your bottom lip, and when your nails scratch at his scalp, he lets it go with a soft sigh of pleasure, kissing you even harder.

“Just to be sure,” you pant once you break apart and he starts sucking kisses down the column of your throat, “We’re doing this right?”

“If science says it’ll work then there’s no harm in giving it a shot,” he rasps against your skin, moaning a little when you pull on his hair.

“Ryujin said it, not science.”

He mutters something too low for you to hear as he kisses his way down to your cleavage. “Ryujin is basically science,” he tells you, looking up from your chest, “I’m taking this off,” he tugs at your camisole.

“I’d be more pissed if you didn’t,” you say, helping him pull it off. You arch up into him with a whimper when he suckles your breast through your bra. “Fuck, Minho,” you moan as you reach behind you to undo the clasp, needing to feel his mouth against your skin now.

His other hand skims across waist, leaving a trail of warmth in its path as it heads towards the snap on your jeans, and he deftly opens it with a twist of his fingers, wriggling his hand inside. “Hope this is alright,” he says, fingertips just ghosting across your underwear as he leans down to swirl his tongue around your nipple.

It takes you three tries to formulate words in your head, and even then all you manage to say is, “Very alright,” trying to tilt your hips to get more friction, feeling the heat of his palm through the thin scrap of fabric.

Only once you have said so does he dive right in, fingers slipping beneath the flimsy material of your underwear to stroke you and you both swear.

“Fuck Y/n,” he swears, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses from one breast to the other as his fingers trace up your slit, “You’re dripping. How long have you been thinking about this?”

He sinks blunt teeth into your sternum until you whine. “A – a while. Ever since Ryujin brought it up the first time. And then you show up today – fuck ,” you cry, hips jerking up when his index circles your clit, “Do that again. Please Minho.”

He chuckles, pressing a smacking kiss to the outside of your breast, and repeats the motion, rubbing his thumb on your clit until you whine again.

“You have been thinking about this for what? The past half an hour while I have been sitting right next to you?” he asks, accidentally butting you in the chin as he tries to bite at your collarbone. “Shit babe,” he flicks your clit again, “Bet you’re all worked up, huh?”

“Minho, please.”

“Were you thinking about this the whole time?” he presses, rising up so he can get a good look at your face, your mouth just slightly parted while your eyes keep on fluttering, struggling to stay open. He slows his motions until you make a soft plaintive sound in the back of your throat and he can’t help but bend down to kiss you, sweet. “Come on, Y/n, tell me what you were thinking about,” he lets his teeth graze over her earlobe, “I wanna know, baby.”

“Your hands,” you whine, trying to get him moving again. He has to pin your hips to the couch to stop you from wiggling all over the place and it sends another flare of want through you. “I was thinking about your hands and – and–”

“And what?” he coaxes, letting his fingers ghost across your entrance. You jerk with it, pleasure curling at the base of your spine. “And what else Y/n?”

“Mouth. Your mouth, Minho.”

His lips curl up in a halfway smirk, pleased, and he presses a single finger into you, just barely. “You want my mouth on you, baby?” he asks, “You want my mouth on your sweet pussy?”

You clench down hard at his words, eyes screwed shut, and you feel the warmth flood your face as he laughs lowly.

“Please,” you murmur, and you feel his lips just barely brush across yours before pressing down more firmly in a soft exploratory kiss. He removes his hands, and you whine at the loss of contact, until he breaks the kiss, sinking to his knees before you.

“Whatever the hell you want, baby,” he says as he slowly peels your jeans off. He litters featherlight kisses up your leg, mouthing his way across the crease where your leg meets your hip. And then, without warning, he leans forward, nuzzling his face against your lace covered pussy, and you squeak in surprise. His hands come up to grab your hips, steadying you, and he repeats the motion, this time letting his teeth graze against your clit through the pathetic excuse for underwear, letting you moan.

“So fucking wet,” he mutters again, a hint of awe colouring his voice, and you flush hot, trying to get him to put his mouth on you for real.

He does away with your underwear quick enough, leaving them in a sad little crumpled heap on the table next to the couch, before ducking back down to lick a fat stripe straight up your centre that sends your pulse skittering.

One of your legs hooks behind his shoulder as he steadies himself, and the hands pinning your hips flex, lifting you closer to his mouth as he laps at you with long licks, making an enthusiastic sound in the back of his throat. There’s nothing slow and gentle about it, very little finesse to be found, but it still has you curling your toes and keening loudly, especially when he slips one, then two fingers in, scissoring you wide open so he can truly fuck you with his tongue.

It doesn’t help that Minho seems just as into it as you are, low groans pressing into your flesh, the vibrations of it doing all sorts of things to your body.

His mouth is even better than you thought, and within minutes, you’re pulling on his hair when he sucks your clit in his mouth, high pitched whimpers crawling out of your throat as you clench down hard on his fingers, coming with a broken gasp of his name that has him grunting into the side of your thigh.

He groans when you pull him up, and you lick the taste of yourself out of his mouth while tugging on his stupid robes. He’s still fully dressed in costume while you are laid out wantonly before him.

“Off,” you command, nibbling on his lip.

Minho pushes you away gently, stealing one last kiss before starting to undo the million and one clasp that holds his costume in place. “Condom?” he asks, voice pitched low in a way that makes you shiver. He can’t seem to look away from you, eyes dark with want and you bite your lip.

“I’m supposed to have one in my bag,” you say, stretching for it, “Hurry up."

“You always this bossy?”

“You always this slow?”

Your fingers quickly find the foil packet, and you rip it open as fast as you can. He’s finally naked by the time you turn back around, and you push him down roughly on the couch, climbing onto his lap. He’s all lean muscle, broad and firm beneath you, and you can’t help but run an appreciative hand down his chest as you fix him to your liking.

Minho chuckles, palming your ass as you settle on him. “You are bossy, huh?”

You smile at him sweetly, wrapping your fingers around his cock and feeling him twitch in your palm. “I just know what I want.”

There’s a muscle ticking in his jaw that you just want to bite into as he nods, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Then by all means, Y/n.”

In another time you would taste him, drop to your knees and take him in your mouth, but right now you just want him, already too keyed up from before to do nothing else besides give him one last squeeze and then roll the condom on, quickly sliding onto him in way that has you both groaning.

“God, Y/n,” he shudders, already sounding wrecked. He squeezes your hips again, leaning up to mouth at your breast, and you gasp, rocking down on him.

It takes you a few moments to find the rhythm, and even then it’s still sloppy and hot and oh so good in a way that you find yourself digging your nails into his shoulders. He keeps his mouth on your breasts, and each tug of your nipple sends a shock wave of pleasure directly to your cunt, and you throw your head back with it, moaning.

As you both near climax, your moves get more and more frantic until Minho grabs hold of your hips, pulling you down forcefully, your clit catching on the bump of his pelvis each time, and you come with a broken moan, slumping against him. It triggers his own release, and he thrusts up into you, once, then twice, before tensing up beneath you, coming with a low growl as he sags into the couch.

For a moment there’s nothing but the sound of your harsh breathing, and you sigh into his neck as the sweat cools on your skin.

“We should probably clean up,” he mumbles, eyes still closed and you nod, slowly sliding off of his dick, moaning a little when your cunt gives a feeble little flutter. He just groans unashamedly, staying right there slumped on your couch, arm thrown over his eyes, until you throw his pants at him.

“Get dressed,” you tell him, slipping into your bathroom to clean up. Your skin is coated with a thin layer of sweat and he made a total mess of your hair, but you pay no attention to it, giving yourself a perfunctory rub down with a washcloth before slipping back into your clothes.

When you return, he’s almost ready, fidgeting with his tie. He didn’t bother to do anything with his hair, but it’s not like anyone would be able to tell the difference.

You take a deep breath. “So.”

“So.”

“Think we got it out of our systems?’

He shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know. Only time will tell I guess.”

“Right.”

You stand there awkwardly for a moment, neither of you willing to meet the other’s eye until Minho blurts out, “I feel like I’m supposed to shake your hand or something. You know, properly close the deal.”

It gets a giggle out of you. “Didn’t realise we were making a business deal here.”

“Well, you never know,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets with the barest glimmer of a smile. “The handshake makes sure you know that it’s one and done.”

“Oh, of course it does.”

Another bout of silence falls over the two of you during which you just stand there, smiling at each other like a pair of loons until Minho clears his throat.

“I should, uh, probably get going,” he says, raking a hand through his curls as he squeezes past you to get to the door, and you nod.

“Right.”

“Right.”

He turns around just before he leaves, mouth open to say something else, but he ends up just shaking his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “See you around, Y/n.”

now

M A Y

You should have left already. Instead you are lying on the couch, spooning with one Lee Minho as some mindless cop drama plays out on TV. It’s becoming a habit.

“Can you do that with your gun?” he asks, voice dripping onto your skin like honey. One of his hands has found its way under the sweatshirt you stole from him, resting heavily on your stomach.

You barely even glance at the screen. “I can barely even keep a good grip on my gun,” you confess. “It’s always falling all over the place.”

He hums in response before you lapse back into comfortable silence for the rest of the show. You are more than content to lay there, feeling his warmth all around you, his breath stirring your hair, his heart beating against your back.

It’s nice.

Eventually you do have to leave, glancing at the clock on the wall before saying, “I should probably go. It’s getting late.”

Minho makes a soft, plaintive sound in the back of his throat and pulls you closer. “Or you could stay. Ryujin’s flight doesn’t get in for another three hours. You have some time to kill.” His hand skims across your stomach, light, and you actually find yourself considering it.

With a shake of your head you sigh, “No, I really need to get going. I still need to pick up dinner before you get here. And make it look like I was actually living in the apartment these past few weeks.”

He chuckles at that, nosing the nape of your neck. “Point,” he says, even as he tightens his hold on you, reluctant to see you go. “Or we could take a nap, order pizza and forget about cleaning in the first place. You know, like what we’ve been doing everyday for the past week and a half.”

You snort, batting his hands away and finally sitting up. “Right. And then what will I tell Ryujin when she asks why the apartment’s been abandoned for a month?”

He’s silent, causing you to glance at him while you stretch out your arms. Minho is never one to shy away from telling you what he really thinks, and his sudden apprehension has you tilting your head quizzically. Eventually he looks back up at you for a brief second, and then sets his jaw, fingers trailing across your skin distractedly.

“You could always tell her the truth,” he hedges, hand tightening on your waist and you freeze mid stretch.

“Why?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

Minho shrugs, still overly casual and unable to meet your gaze. “I mean, we’ve been sneaking around for a while now. Aren’t you tired of it?”

“No,” you say, slowly, “Because we both said that this was a one time thing, and when it wasn’t, we both agreed not to mention it to anyone. For both our sakes.”

“Well, things have changed now, haven’t they?” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “We’ve been doing this for nine months, Y/n.”

“We’ve been doing this on and off for nine months, Minho.”

He ignores you, pressing on, “You can’t tell me everything's the same, especially not after December,” and when he finally looks up at you, your stomach drops.

Ever so slowly, you stand up, stepping away from the couch and out of his reach. The TV is nothing more than white noise in the background.

“Actually, I can,” you say, voice brittle, and he freezes.

You never used to hook up at home, you never used to stay over, you never used to share inside jokes and smiles, tweeting and subtweeting each other, posting selfies together for the world to see.

“Because this has been kept separate from the rest of our lives in a neat little box.”

He sneaks kisses from you sometimes when he comes over to spend the evening with you and Ryujin, holding your hand under the table. You get asked questions about each other at cons, and you distinctly remember that one time he told a fan that you were ‘only a fucking amazing and a phenomenal actress who he’s glad to know.’ You have a drawer of your clothes in his wardrobe, but you still choose to steal his.

“Nothing has changed, Minho, not for me. Not between now and last fucking August.”

You think about the shampoo bottle he keeps in his shower for you, the herbal tea he stocks in his cupboards. You think about how you have memorised his favourite songs, can rattle off his favourite passages from any book to the way he won’t eat ice cream unless it’s in a cup with the cone crumbled into it.

Minho sits on the couch, unmoving except for the clench of his jaw that has the muscle popping. “So I guess that’s that then?” he asks quietly, looking up at you, face blank.

You nod once, your chest feeling too tight. “Yes,” you reply, just as quiet and weak as before, and then turn on your heel to leave. He doesn’t say another word, not even when you shove your feet in your shoes and walk out, the door closing behind you with a soft snick.

You fumble with the key to your own apartment, the too long sleeves getting in the way and you end up swiping furiously at the frustrated tears that have inexplicably gathered in your eyes. Once inside, you brace yourself on the counter, taking deep breaths as your vision blurs for one startling moment, trying to ease the pain in your chest.

Your eyes are still too bright when you pull away, but you steady yourself, pulling off his sweatshirt and throwing it in the dark recess of your closet before starting to clean, trying to get your mind off of things.

It works, somewhat, but later, once Ryujin is home and safely bundled in bed, you sit with your phone in your lap. Minho is the second person in your inbox, right under Ryujin’s flight confirmation, sending you a stupid pick up line a few hours ago. You open up the chat and slowly types out your message with shaking fingers.

Y/n: i think we should stop seeing each other

His response comes seconds later.

Minho: fine.

The words from before have left a bitter taste in your mouth that, no matter how hard you try, you can’t get rid of it. It’s the taste of a lie and heartbreak all rolled up in one, and this time you can’t rid of the tears with just a few swipes.

before: 5 months ago

D E C E M B E R

“What,” you say flatly, still staring at Ryujin, with your arms crossed.

The other girl just smiles at you. “You heard me.”

“What I heard was that you want me to take your place at the award show next week because your dislocated disc is giving you trouble. The very same award show that you were attending with Minho,” you say, still terribly unimpressed, “Surely I heard wrong.”

“No, you heard correct. And I already cleared it with Liv. She thinks it’s a good idea, especially since the show is doing so well.”

“You talked to Liv ?” you sputter, “Why the fuck would you do that?”

Ryujin shrugs, looking entirely too innocent from where she’s laid spread out across your couch. “Because I know that you wouldn’t do it if I didn’t bring in the big guns. I’m covering all my bases.”

“Goddammit Ryujin.” You scrubbed a weary hand across your face.

“So is that a yes?” she asked, phone already in hand, “Because I can’t wait to let the internet know about this. Your shipper fans are going to lose their minds.”

You can just imagine, and you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. Liv’s solution of ‘letting things blow over’ had backfired stupendously and you are certain that at this point everyone and their mother wanted to see you date Lee Minho.

“I fucking hate you.”

“I’m taking that as a yes.”

* * *

That’s how you find yourself a week later, being ambushed by a team of make up artists as they help get you ready for the night while Ryujin sits off to the side with an oversized bag of crisps, flat out cackling at you.

“I really fucking hate you,” you grit out, trying to at eye her while one of the make up hands fix your eyebrows.

Ryujin just laughs again, wincing a bit as she shifts herself on the chair. On one hand, you know that her back has been giving her trouble these past few days, especially because of the cold weather and shooting, but on the other, you really hate her for making you do this.

“You should see your timeline right now,” she snorts, “Everyone is so frenzied.”

“I’m going to beat you to death with a curling iron.”

She just blows a kiss at you, continuing to chortle while you scroll through your phone. “The general consensus is that you’re either going to tell the world you’re finally dating, or let everyone know that you’re pregnant and Minho’s the baby daddy.”

“The only thing keeping me sane right now is picturing stabbing you multiple times with a mascara wand,” you hiss, yelping when someone pulls on your hair a bit too roughly.

“Look on the bright side,” says Ryujin , “At least you too get along now. Somewhat. And I can promise that Minho is an absolute joy to be around during these things. He’s almost better than a hip flask.”

You’re glad that Ryujin’s not paying attention to you, for she would have caught how you can’t maintain an eye contact at the mention of Minho and your relationship.

Turns out that sleeping with Minho couldn’t be a one time thing.

Who knew?

It’s not a regular thing, but you still do it often enough that you’re no longer snapping each other’s heads off, but instead engaging in playful banter.

It’s nice. Somewhat.

You would just like everyone to know that it only started up because he’s just really, really good with his hands.

And mouth.

And…everything else.

You are jerked out of your reverie by a knock on the door, and Ryujin practically flounces over to open it, a massive shiteating grin spread across her face as she does so.

“Minho!” you hear her say, bright and happy, “Come in. She's still not ready yet; give her a couple more minutes.”

“You’re awfully perky for someone who claimed to be in debilitating pain,” he says, sounding suspicious.

“It’s the painkillers. Come sit!”

You catch a glimpse of him as he passes in front of your door and well. Your jaw doesn’t quite drop, but it certainly comes close to doing that, and your cheeks just heat even further.

Minho looks really good in a suit.

Like insanely good.

Ryujin darts back into the room, and, after taking one look at you, she bursts out laughing again, even as she throws herself on the bed. She’s having far too much fun with this, and you kind of want to throw something at him.

“You so want to hit that,” Ryujin whispers, smug.

I am already hitting that, you almost say, the words on the tip of your tongue, but you easily swallow it down, schooling your face into a scowl.

“If you mean take a frying pan to his face then yes,” you nod, and then wince again as a hair pin digs into your scalp.

“All done,” says the girl, before spritzing perfume on you. You almost choke on a cherry blossom scented cloud, and when it passes, Ryujin is standing by the door, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. You may or may not have deliberately stepped on her good foot.

“Come on Cinderella,” she says, linking your arm through yours once you stand up, “Let’s get you to the ball.”

“I hope a spider crawls in your mouth when you’re sleeping tonight.”

You do manage to school your face in a pretty neutral expression when you enter the living room, and it seems as though Minho was preparing himself beforehand, as he barely reacts to your appearance, only giving you a cursory look up and down. The only tell is the bob of his adam’s apple when he swallows, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from looking too smug.

“Do I meet your standards?” you can’t help tease him, and his eyes snap up to yours, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I guess you’ll do,” he sighs dramatically, and offers you his arm.

“Have her home no later than eleven, Minho!” Ryujin calls out as you are both walking out the door.

He flips you off behind his back. “Fuck off, Ryujin,” he bites out, succinct.

Her laughter follows you all the way down the hallway and you grumble, “She’s a goddamn menace,” while hiking up your dress to walk down the stairs.

“That she is,” he nods before looking sidelong at you. “You look nice.”

Your heart picks up pace on its own accord. “Thanks. So do you.”

“Thanks,” he says, and you can’t mistake the the humour in his voice. You elbow him in the rib and he laughs. “What? What did I say?”

“You’re a dick,” you huff, still trying to calm your traitorous heart, and that just makes him laugh louder.

“The car should be here in a moment,” he tells you as you come to a stop in the empty lobby. You just hum in response, glancing around aimlessly until he says, “Hey, Y/n?”

Before you can turn to look at him, he’s cupping your jaw, pushing you up against the wall and kissing you sweetly. You make a sound of surprise in the back of your throat, but then you’re kissing him back, just as slow, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of his neck, while the other fingers his tie, and he breathes a soft sigh of relief, pulling you flush against him.

When you pull apart, he rubs his nose against your cheek gently, mumbling, “You look really nice,” and swipes a quick peck to your cheek before pulling away, slipping his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.

You are fairly certain the whole neighborhood can hear your heart stammering at this point, but you still reach out for his arm, looping yours through it as you say, “You look really nice too, Minho.”

The boyish grin he gives you makes your heart stutter in your chest, and then he glances at his phone. “Come on; car’s here.”

He helps you into the backseat before slipping in himself, and then lets his arm rest on the small area of your back the entire drive there. You take advantage of it, leaning into his warmth, and you feel him trace mindless patterns on your waist in response.

“You have some lipstick,” you say, noticing the smudge of it on his mouth. He swipes at it with his hand, but misses the spot completely and you reaches up, thumb rubbing the corner of his mouth. “I got it,” you mutter, getting it out completely, and he presses a kiss to your temple in turn.

“Thanks love,” he says, looking at you impossibly soft and you feel warm all over, very different from the first time he called you "love".

You don’t have time to dwell on it though, because soon enough you are pulling up to the venue where the event is being hosted and you are being blinded by the flash of cameras.

The whole walk down the red carpet is a blur in your mind, filled with cameras and questions and the warmth of his arm hooked around yours as he leads you through. You stop only once or twice for pictures, and you paste on a wide grin for those, posing next to him until his arm hooks through yours again, pulling you inside.

The awards themselves are boring, intended mostly for crew members, but Minho keeps you from nodding off with his hand on your thigh the entire time, tracing maddening patterns that you feel even through your layers of skirts.

“Stop that,” you hiss while Chan continues to drone on onstage. You catch his wrist and he flips his hand over, linking your fingers together.

“If we sneak out no one is going to notice,” he mumbles under his breath, “This thing is boring at fuck, and I haven’t had you in over two weeks.”

Despite the flash of heat his words send through you, you say, “And who’s fault is that?”

“Hey, what am I supposed to do? Tell them not to shoot offset because then I wouldn’t get to fuck you?”

“Don’t be crass.”

“It’s true,” he mutters, glaring up at the stage. “Chan doesn’t know when to shut up. I could make it worth your while instead.”

“You know, Ryujin told me that you made these things fun and I needn’t bring a flask, but I’m starting to think that I should have smuggled it in anyway.”

Even in the dim light you can see the shine of his teeth as he grins. “Hey, I’m offering to make things fun and you’re turning me down.”

You turn to run a critical eye over him and he stares back, unflinchingly, his irises more black than brown, and positively irradiating lust. “Hmm. Fine, maybe later. Now behave,” you hiss.

The grin just widens and he leans in close, letting you feel the warmth of his thigh as it presses against yours. “Oh baby,” he sighs, untangling your hands, so that he can go back to teasing you. You manage to repress a shudder when his fingers press against the dip between your thighs through your dress. “You don’t want that.”

Miraculously, you manage to get through the entire programme without drawing too much attention to yourselves, though you do go through quite a few glasses of champagne, especially when you show him that two can play at that game, palming him through his slacks in a way that almost made him choke the first time.

You get out of there as soon as it’s done, escaping fairly unnoticed through the throngs of people, and he goes down on you, quick and messy, in a cramped utility closet, far enough from the hall that you can be as loud as you want. After you repay the favour, giving him a lazy handjob before switching to your mouth when you realise that you have nothing to clean up with.

Neither of you remember to stagger your entrances back into the hall, and slip in with your fingers still tangled together, your dress obviously crumpled and a telltale redness blooming on the apples of Minho's cheeks. To anyone paying attention, it would be clear as day what you were up to, but you are lucky enough that you only garner one or two looks in passing. Minho stays glued to your side, hand heavy on your hip the rest of the night, and when it’s time to leave, he slings it around your waist, keeping you close.

You make out for a while, trading soft sloppy kisses in the back of the car all the way home. He tastes a little bit like champagne, all bubbly and sweet, and you melt into him, carding your fingers through his unruly hair.

“Had fun?” he mumbles against your cheek, exhaling heavily when you bite his jaw. He gropes you in retaliation, and you squeak.

You pull back far enough so he can see your truly outrageous smile. “I guess you made it worth my while after all,” you muse, and he chuckles, pulling your mouth back to his.

He walks you up, arm slung around your shoulders, holding your heels in the other, and you bury your nose in his bicep breathing him in. When you reach your door, Minho lets his arm fall, reluctantly, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. It’s chaste and sweet, and starkly different from any other kisses that you have shared these past few months during your on and off hook ups, and even though you’re somewhat drunk, it still feels like a turning point.

“See you later, Y/n,” he says, with a slight wave of his hand and by the time you gather your bearings to tell him the same, he’s already clicking his door shut.

Ryujin is still up when you walk in, face illuminated by the blue light of her phone screen, and she grins like a shark that’s caught blood.

“Don’t,” you say, slumping against the door. You try to tamp down on the giddiness to avoid suspicion, but Minho left you feeling like you are floating on air.

Her grin just widens and she turns the phone towards you. “There is going to be so much fanfiction written about you two tonight,” she snickers, “You two have been trending on Twitter for almost an hour now,” and you just flip her off, heading to your room.

You throw yourself on the bed with a contented sigh, grinning into your pillow.

later

J U N E

Despite being back in the spotlight for well over a year, you still don’t do very well with interviews.

Most of those in the beginning were what you expected: what happened between you and your ex boyfriend, where did you go for six months, and are you sure you are not in any relationship right now?

Then Minho started getting incorporated into your interviews as well.

If you had a nickle for how many times you have been asked if you were dating, you’d have enough money to buy a small island where you might be able to escape him once and for all. If you wanted to, that is.

It took you a while, but eventually you managed to accept interviews, no longer panicking at the sight of one, but for some reason today you’re on edge, trying not to fidget as you sit on the lime green sofa opposite an annoyingly peppy interviewer.

When she deviates from the script however, you realise that you have had good reason to have been tense all morning.

“So what’s happening with you and Lee Minho? It’s been quite a while since we have seen any interactions between you two.”

It’s been four weeks and three days to be exact, the numbers jumping to the forefront of your mind almost immediately.

Next to you, Ryujin stiffens, all but baring her teeth at the interviewer in a snarl, vastly different from the times when she used to kill herself laughing.

You don’t know exactly what happened between you and him, but you figured out enough when Minho stopped coming around as much, and you started making excuses to avoid seeing him.

You take a shaky breath and flash the peppy woman a tight smile, the closest to a ‘fuck you’ you can give and says, “We’re just friends, that’s all. And we’ve been busy these past few weeks. Not as busy as Ryujin though. She just did this amazing movie…”

Thankfully no one questions your completely unsubtle segue and Ryujin is more than happy to take the pressure off of you.

What’s happening between you and Minho? Well, you still have his sweatshirt crumpled into a ball and hidden in your closet. You have exchanged maybe five words a piece at most, and he still has a drawer filled with your things over at his place. You ran into each other on the last day of filming, your cars parked next to each other, and it reminds you of that first day when you almost had a yelling match right there in the parking lot. Instead, he just nods and gives you a wide enough berth so you wouldn’t even brush against each other as he gets in his car.

You miss him, something which shocked you to the very core when you realised it a few weeks back, and you have never wanted to kick yourself as much as you did then for throwing everything away.

What’s happening between you and Minho?

Who knows; you fucked it up.

later

J U L Y

This year, Seasonal Con is more eventful for two reasons.

The first being that your show has an actual fandom now – a real, honest to god following, larger than you would have thought possible, who are so involved with the show that it’s both amazing and a tad bit scary. Not to mention those who want your character and Ryujin’s to get together.

“We have shippers,” Ryujin had informed you gleefully one night, and you distinctly remember groaning out loud before cursing to high heaven because you have had enough shipper madness to last a lifetime. Possibly even two lifetimes.

The second reason is a bit of a harder pill to swallow.

You got invited to the fan favourite panel on the last day.

And so did Minho.

Who the event supervisors thought would be nice to put next to you for an hour in front of hundreds.

If you get out of this weekend alive, you are going to thank every god and deity you can think of.

Ryujin is understandably worried once you get the news, immediately coming up with a variety of ways to get out of it. “You could fake sick, or pretend to lose your voice,” she rattles off, “Or maybe you fell down in the shower the night before and broke your hip-”

“It’s fine,” you interject, squaring your shoulders. You try to smile at her but you are pretty sure it falls flat. “What’s the worse that can happen?”

She doesn't seem impressed by that answer because she replies, “You and Minho air your dirty laundry for the entire world to see.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you say resolutely.

“At this point I don’t put anything past you two,” she mutters, and you nudge her with your toes.

* * *

The day of the actual panel, you take Liv’s advice and try to meditate in the morning in hopes of calming yourself. It helps a bit; you are not quite as jumpy as you could be, but you are still definitely on edge, clutching your purse like a lifeline as you navigate the halls on your own.

The waiting room is mostly empty, with just a few people here, but that’s not what you pay attention to, eyes immediately landing on Minho, hunched over his phone in the corner.

Your heart squeezes in your chest.

You really, really miss him, didn’t realise just how much of an impact his presence alone has on you.

Before you know it, your feet are taking you to him, and you carefully sit next to him on the loveseat, wiping your palms on your skirt several times.

He doesn’t notice you until you clear your throat, to which he stiffens, very slowly looking up, eyes guarded.

“Hi,” you say, quiet, tucking an errant curl behind your ear.

“Y/n,” he nods, impassive as ever and you feel your throat clog up.

You worry your bottom lip for a moment and see his hand twitch, as though he was about to pull it free. “I, um – can we talk?”

Minho just stares at you for a good minute or so, to the point where you’re struggling not to fidget. Finally he just scrubs a hand down his face and hisses, “Now? You want to talk?”

“I-”

“It’s been an entire month, Y/n,” he says bitterly, shifting away from you, “What could you possibly have to say after an entire month, that we won't work out anything that was between us?”

Your eyes burn and you stare at your hands clenched tightly in your lap. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice catching on the end of it. You can feel him staring at the side of your head, and you press on. “I’m sorry I was so abrupt with everything, and I… I miss you, Minho.”

When you finally muster up the courage to look back at him, his eyes are squeezed shut, pained.

“Don’t,” he manages to croak out and you jerk back as though you have been hit.

“Min-”

“We’re gonna talk about this later,” he tells you after taking a deep breath, “You don’t get to do this right before we do a panel together.”

You nod meekly. “Okay.”

The next hour is the longest hour of your life. You slip on your public persona mask easily enough, smiling and laughing, and answering your questions as coyly as possible, but on the inside you are a mess. A shaking, confused mess.

After the panel is over and all requisite photos have been taken, Minho grabs hold of your wrist and pulls you along behind him. You follow without a word, barely sparing a thought for the shutters you hear going off as you weave through the crowd. That’s a bridge you will cross when you get there. Or you might just avoid it all together. What’s one more thing to the whole ‘Y/n and Minho’ story, right?

Only when you end up outside at the pick up area do you ask, “Where are we going?”

Minho doesn’t even glance over at you. “My hotel I'm staying at. It’s only five minutes away, and a lot more private than a spare room at a convention centre.”

You stare down at your feet, “Okay,” you say, and then follow him in the cab that pulls up.

The short ride to the hotel is tense, and you find yourself biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from speaking after firing off a quick text to Ryujin. Minho still doesn’t look your way, choosing to glare at the window instead, jaw clenched tight, even when you are dropped off, he just jerks his head in the general direction with a gruff, “Follow me.”

Once the door to his room has clicked shut, he turns to look at you, face impassive and arms crossed. “You wanted to talk? Then talk.”

You take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry about before,” you start, “I – you’re one of my best friends here, Minho, one of my only friends here besides Ryujin, and I was so fucking scared when you – I don’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships, and you – you’re too important to me to lose, so I’m sorry, and it was my fault we got in this whole mess in the first place, and if you forgive me, can we still be friends at least? I miss you.”

You say all of it in one go, and by the time you are through, you're heaving. Still, when he opens his mouth to speak, you hold a palm up and continue, voice wavering, “I just- I really fucking miss you and I’m so, so sorry.”

The words just hang there for a moment while you lean against the wall.

“You through?” he asks with a quirk of an eyebrow. When you nod, he says, “You’re a pain in the ass–”

“Charming.”

“–who’ll argue with me about every fucking thing under the sun no matter what-”

“Oh stop it, I’m swooning, Minho.”

“You gonna be a little shit the whole time, or can I say my piece?” he asks mildly, and you feel stupid. When he’s certain you are no longer going to interrupt, he throws himself back on the bed with a groan, throwing an arm over his face. After a few seconds of silence, he confesses, “Ryujin called me out in like two weeks,” voice slightly muffled by his bicep, “Apparently my crush on you was painfully obvious.”

What?

You must have said it outloud because then he’s craning his neck slightly to glance at you, and you just feel like a dense idiot even more, picking your jaw up off the ground. “But you,” you sputter, “You were such a dick!”

He’s groaning again, hiding his face, but if you look closely you can see the tips of his ears tinged red. “I was into you. Am. And terribly so.”

“You never said anything.”

“I didn’t want to fuck it up. Which, I realise is what I might have done the moment we agreed to continue having sex with each other, but I was just…so eager to have you in any way I could, even if it meant pretending that I wasn’t pinning away.”

“But…why?”

“Why what?”

You bite her lip, scuffing the toe of your sandal against the carpet. “Why me?”

Minho just gives you a little shrug, smiling helplessly. “Because you are you,” he says, easy as nothing, and those four little words make all the air in your lungs leave with a whoosh, causing you to stumble back against the wall in order to stay upright. “You had me on my ass within seconds with your no bullshit type attitude and I just…I don't know. You threw me for a loop.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he says, messing with his hair. “You – God, Y/n, didn’t you realise? You had me. Every single thing you did just bewitched me, I couldn’t look away, and then I started to get to know you, all of you; the bossy little you who likes to order me around and sleep until noon, and prefers green tea to black, and I…I fell in love with you,” he breathes, tearing his eyes away from yours to stare up at the ceiling, “I don’t know how, or when, but I just- I’m in love with you.”

If his previous statement made the air leave you, then this one makes you feel lightheaded and faint hearted all at the same time. The word ‘love’ echoes throughout your head and you feel a bubble of happiness growing in your chest, and you slip down the wall a little as you try to make sense of the rest of his words.

He chuckles nervously when a few moments pass and you haven’t said anything as yet. “Please tell me if I just fucked up this whole new ‘friendship’ thing so I can take it back. Five second rule applies here, right?”

It startles a faint laugh out of you. “It’s been more than five seconds.”

“Five minute rule then?” And you laugh again, this time louder, and then you are crossing the room to meet him, clumsily climbing on top of him and bracing your hands on his chest.

“You goddamn idiot,” you huff as he grabs your hips, steadying you, “I’m in love with you too.”

The smile that unfurls across his face could crack it in two, absolutely blinding, and you shriek when he sits up suddenly, one hand moving up to cup the back of your neck while the other pulls you into his chest, lips ghosting across yours.

Then he’s kissing you soundly, lips chapped and eager, and it’s messy, the two of you grinning far too widely to make anything work.

“Oh, thank god,” he rasps into your skin, forehead pressed against yours, and then he’s kissing you again, slower this time, and deep, and you just hug him tighter, licking the joy from his tongue, or maybe having yours intermingle with his because you are just so fucking happy, you feel like you are going to float away.

“Hey,” he mumbles against your lips, caressing your cheekbones when you make a move to get you and him to lie horizontal, “Slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”

You squeeze his forearm. “I know, I just,” you drop your head in the crook of his neck, and he pets you, letting his fingers tangle in your hair. “I just missed you a lot, that’s all.”

His responding smile is achingly soft, and a little shy, and he slowly presses you into the bed, kissing you sweet once more.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs again, and your heart is bursting at the seams at this point.

“Good,” you sigh happily, trailing a hand down his back, feeling the movement of his muscles as they tense and flex beneath his shirt. You hold his face between two palms and look him dead in the eye when you say, “I’m not going anywhere either.”

Minho grins, soft, and when he leans back down to kiss you, you can feel the love bursting from every cell in your body, flooding you with warmth and sunshine from the inside out, making your toes curl.

You are in love with him, and he with you, and nothing on this earth could ever top that.

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Can you do an Innie friends to lovers fic. Thick mc. Smut obviously but like baby bread to daddy toast🤣🤣

Aphrodite's Pain

Jeongin x thick female reader

Word count: 6.4k

Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY! Verbal and emotional abuse, physically intimidating behavior, mentions of gaslighting, body shaming, unprotected piv intercourse (be safe use protection) cum eating, praise, body worship, a little spanking (like one smack), Jeongin has a big dick (is that a warning?) I think that's all but as always if I missed something please let me know and I will add it!

A/N: Hope everyone enjoys this one! I had fun writing it. I'm sorry for the terrible joke at the end but I couldn't help myself. I'm cheesy like that.

You and Jeongin became inseparable almost immediately when the guys first introduced the two of you. You loved all of the guys but you and Jeongin had a lot of similar interests and the same sense of humor so you fell into a very comfortable friendship quickly. Movie nights, coffee hang outs, amusement parks, arcades, you spent most of your free time with Jeongin. The guys thought for the longest time that you two would perhaps become more than friends and it was frequently discussed amongst them but they didn’t want to push you so they all swore not to say anything to either of you. For all intents and purposes, Jeongin was your baby bread and you were his Noona. If you ever needed help with anything he was always a call away and you would always drop anything if he needed you. Jeongin was your friend and you appreciated and needed him more than you could ever express.

The one thing that you just couldn’t understand since you and Jeongin had become friends was, in the three years that you had known each other you had run though countless boyfriends. For whatever reason they couldn’t handle the fact that you and Jeongin were so close. You were always up front with your them about your best friend being a guy and you did everything you could to make sure your partners felt secure in your relationship. It never seemed to matter by the end though. Every time the inevitable happened and the guy you were seeing dumped you, your confidence took a hit. Was your friendship with Jeongin just an excuse, a means to an end? Was it really because of you? Were you not pretty enough? Was it because you were heavy set? You had never questioned your weight or appearance or appeal until one guy after another kept leaving you. They all couldn’t really be leaving just because of your friendship with Jeongin. Right? Every time another guy ended things with you those questions plagued your mind. Of course, Jeongin was always there to help hold you together and assure you it was the insecure idiots that you had been dating that had the problem and not you, but Jeongin was your friend he was supposed to tell you things like that. You always held back just a bit never really touching on your insecurities about your appearance. So, while it helped to hear the things he would tell you in the moment it did very little for how you were actually feeling in the long term.

When you met your current boyfriend Matt you were apprehensive about dating him, about dating anyone really. You were at a place in your life where you were thinking maybe you just needed to be single, reflect on yourself and what you’re doing or not doing to not be able to sustain a relationship. You were convinced the issue had to be you in some way. Matt was persistent though. He would send flowers, text you sweet little things all the time, and he didn’t seem to mind Jeongin being around or the fact that he took up such a big chunk of your life. Before you would consider seriously dating Matt you felt the need to express the fears you had about getting into another relationship. How you wondered if it was truly your friendship with Jeongin that made guys in the past leave or if it was the fact that you were thicker or not attractive enough. You laid it all out, admitted more to him than you ever had to anyone, maybe even to Jeongin and Matt had assured you that he wasn’t like the rest of those guys. That you were beautiful and he knew you and Jeongin were friends and that was all.

“You are gorgeous baby, don’t say stuff like that about yourself. Regardless of how stunning you are, I’m not the jealous type. I trust you; I wouldn’t have pursued this with you if I didn’t. I know you’d never do something to betray me like that Y/N so don’t worry so much. Okay?” Against your better judgment you believed Matt. He seemed so sincere and so far, he HAD been better than your ex’s when it came to you and Jeongin. It wasn’t long though before the same things that always happened started. Matt would try to get you to cancel on Jeongin to go out with him instead and get mad when you wouldn’t. If you invited Matt along to spend time with you and Jeongin he would throw side eyes and glares even though Jeongin always made sure to be nice, for your sake at least. Matt would make snarky, jealous remarks whenever you brought up Jeongin. He was actually worse about all of those things than other partners had been and still you would try to reassure him, you would try to make things work. At first after he did things like that, he’d apologize but after a while the apologies stopped and the gaslighting started. He would blame you for arguments he started and try to make you think you weren’t being loyal because you wanted to spend time with your friend. Even still, you hoped you could work out these issues and be happy with Matt. You were trying your best to, as hard as it was.

You and Jeongin were finally getting to hang out after what seemed like forever for the two of you. Between your work and really focusing on trying to make things work with Matt, not to mention Jeongin’s busy scheduled, you hadn’t gotten to spend much time together recently. So, you were both excited to get to do one of your favorite things, stay in at your place and watch movies. At least that’s what you were trying to do when Matt started texting you. He blew up your phone through most of the first movie you were watching to the point you had no idea what was going on. Jeongin was glancing over from time to time but you were too absorbed in the conversation, well more like bickering, with Matt to realize. As soon as you started the second movie your phone started going off again.

That stung. Your face contorted into a grimace after reading it and your chest tightened a bit. Jeongin noticed your stiff posture, the frown and the worry lines on your forehead becoming more prominent. He knew those worry lines only showed when you were trying to hide that you were upset.

“Everything okay Noona?” You looked up from your phone and realized Jeongin had been watching you for a minute now.

“Wha- oh yea. It’s just Matt wondering when we’re gonna be done.” You didn’t mention what he’d said in the last text. Jeongin shook his head.

“Jeeze we’re only just getting through the first movie.” Jeongin made a vary valid point and you agreed.

“I know he’s just upset…” Before you could finish your sentence, you heard a knock at your door. You looked in that direction and then back at Jeongin confused.

“Are you expecting someone?” he asked. You shook your head before getting up to see who was at the door.

“I’ll be right back.”  You called back to Jeongin as you disappeared down the hall way. When you got to the door you looked through the peep hole. When you saw who it was you were not only surprised but furious. You opened the door and were immediately met by Matt yelling at YOU.

“Why the fuck didn’t you message me back!?” You looked at him like he was a crazy person because he was acting like it. You looked behind you checking to make sure Jeongin was still in the living room and then walked out into the hall closing the door behind you to try and keep him from hearing the commotion Matt was causing.

“One, lower your voice. You JUST messaged me. You didn’t give me time to reply before you were knocking on my door. How long have you been wai- you know what never mind it’s not important. You were being mean Matt if I had replied, what was I supposed to say to that that wouldn’t have just ended up being a huge fight? I’m trying to have a good time with my friend and watch some movies.” Matt scoffed and rolled his eyes. He looked behind you at your closed door.

“Why did you close the door huh? Afraid I’m gonna see something you don’t want me to?” This again. Matt started pacing the hall back and forth as you pressed your fingers into your temples trying to will away the headache this was bringing on.

“We go through this all the time Matt! He’s like my little brother. It’s not like I hide or lie about spending time with him. I invite you to join, don’t I? If you call or text I always answer, don’t I? I spend almost all my time with you and do everything I can to make you feel secure in our relationship and you still get so jealous. You knew Jeongin was my friend before we started dating. We had a whole conversation about this, multiple in fact. You said you understood, you said you were okay with it. So, why are you getting so bent out of shape?” Matt spun around and walked back up on you quickly, his finger out, pointing at you. You flinched a little surprised by the aggressive action.

“Yea I want to tag along and be the third wheel with my own girlfriend on your little dates with your little boyfriend.” You let out at heavy sigh. You were getting exhausted with this.

“We don’t have little dates and we are just friends Matt. YOU are my boyfriend.” Matt laughed and started pacing again.

“Not any more I’m not. You always say the same shit, it’s always ‘he’s like a little brother why are you mad?’ You must think I’m fucking stupid. I’m so done Y/N, this is over. We’re over! You’re not worth this shit.” Matt spun around and faced you again.

“Just admit you’re just a whore and fucking him already!” Your jaw dropped.  

“What did you say?!” You were shaky and had tears in your eyes. You couldn’t believe he would say that. You truly had never given him any reason to think that you and Jeongin were anything but friends, in fact you’d done everything you could to prove otherwise. Matt took a few steps closer, baring down on you, looking down his nose at you. Anger radiated off of him.

“I SAID that you’re a fat whore. And that I KNOW you’re fucking him.” The tears in your eyes fell and you choked out a sob. He knew where to hit you so that it hurt and he took his cheap shot. Just then your door flung open behind you and Jeongin was standing there. It was obvious he’d just heard the whole exchange between you and Matt even though you had tried to prevent it. Jeongin’s face looked like it had no emotion in it. It was stiff like it was made of marble. His fists were clenched and the veins of his arms and neck visible. He was clearly trying his very best to restrain himself. You had never seen him like that in all the years you’d known him.

“Y/N, go inside.” His voice was firm but he spoke calmly to you and moved to the side to allow space for you to go in. You didn’t say anything. You did what he told you to and ran into your apartment still crying. Once you were inside Jeongin pulled the door closed behind him this time and stood in front Matt.

“Wha-“ Jeongin cut Matt off before the first word.

“Shut the fuck up.” His words were calm but they still dripped with venom. Matt was stunned. Jeongin had always played the quiet shy kid around him up until that point, mainly for your sake. So, when Jeongin told him to shut the fuck up, he shut the fuck up.

“You have got to be the dumbest asshole alive do you know that? You have never deserved Y/N. She would never cheat on you or willingly hurt anyone she cared about for that matter. Never, and I would never try and make her to do something like that either. We are just friends you fucking neanderthal. We have never fucked, are you hearing me you insecure dip shit.” Matt looked angry and confused, like he wanted to believe Jeongin but didn’t. Jeongin wasn’t done though he leaned in closer and lowered his voice.

“I have never fucked her Matt BUT… I assure you… tonight? I will.” Jeongin looked Matt right in his eyes as he said it. Matt puffed out his chest like some gorilla trying to assert his dominance, challenging Jeongin. Jeongin squared up to him totally unafraid. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes remembering you were upset in the apartment and just wanting to get back to console you. He didn’t have time for Matt’s shit.

“I don’t want to Matt. I’m really, really trying not to. So just get the fuck out and I won’t have to do something we’ll both regret.” Matt hesitated for a moment thinking about calling Jeongin’s bluff. When Jeongin opened his eyes again Matt saw how serious he was. He rolled his eyes and huffed before turning and walking towards the elevators without another word.

“Oh, and Matt?” Matt stopped and turn around.

“You won’t be around anymore but rest assured, if I ever hear you calling Y/N a fat whore again, nothing will stop me from absolutely rocking your shit. Got it?” Matt pressed his lips together. He didn’t say anything but Jeongin knew he got the point. Once Matt was on the elevator and gone Jeongin went back into the apartment. He found you in the living room curled up in the mountain of blankets you had been under watching movies, with your face pressed into the couch cushions, you were still crying. He walked over and sat by you and started rubbing your back, trying calm you.

“Noona? Y/N? Please don’t cry.” You pushed the covers off and turned over facing Jeongin. When he saw your red cheeks and teary eyes, he almost walked back out the door to find Matt and give him the beat down he deserved. Instead Jeongin wiped your fresh tears away as they fell.

“It’s my own fault Innie, things have been getting worse for a while. I should have known; I should have just ended things myself but…” You sniffled and more tears fell.

“What’s wrong with me?” You tried to choke back another sob unsuccessfully.

“Come here Noona.” Jeongin opened his arms to you and you sat up and fell into them pressing your face into his shirt. He let you cry against him as he stroked your hair. After a minute when you started to quiet down Jeongin spoke.

“You know it’s not you right? Seriously. What could be wrong with you? Huh?” You pulled away from him and fiddled with your hands in your lap.

“I’m…” you hesitated to say it but knew Jeongin was your friend and that you could tell him anything.

“Because I’m… you know…fat.” You said the last word so quietly as you wrung your hands together. Jeongin looked at you speechless for a moment. How long had you been dealing with these feelings and he had no idea? He felt horrible.

“First of all, you have fat, you’re not fat. You’re more than your body type Y/N, so much more. It doesn’t matter if you are skinny or full figured. You are kind, and funny, and you are absolutely stunning Y/N, just the way you are.” It was your turn to be speechless. Most of your friends would deny the words if you said you were fat to them, or just tell you that you were pretty which didn’t really help, as much as they were trying to. Not Jeongin though. He didn’t want to convince you that you weren’t thicker, you are, he wanted you to know that it didn’t matter because it was just a fact about you, like having blonde hair or green eyes. It was not who you were and no matter what you were beautiful. He had the most serious look on his face as he continued.

“You’re so willing to try and see the best in these guys and you don’t see the best parts of yourself and they refuse to, all of them, and then you end up hurt. I hate it. I hate that you get taken for granted by these assholes. Y/N, you deserve someone who wants to worship you because you… are beauty personified.” You blushed but you couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief at his words.

“Innie, you’re sweet but…” Jeongin cut you off before you could say anything else.

“No Y/N no buts you are SO beautiful add to that that you are a genuinely good person. Anyone should count themselves lucky to have you. I know I would.” You looked at Jeongin. His eyes bored into yours. Then you blurted out the next words without even thinking.  

“Did you mean it?” Jeongin looked at you confused. Did he mean what? That you were pretty? That you deserved better? You scooted closer to him on the couch. Your eyes were so big and dreamy, they sparkled from the tears that had been in them moments before. Jeongin couldn’t help but get lost in them.

“Mean what?” He finally managed to make himself speak. Suddenly you climbed onto his lap and straddled him, one of your thick thighs on each side of his legs. You rested your arms on his strong shoulders and sat your plump ass on his thighs, your fingers started fiddling with the hair at his nape. Jeongin froze.

“That you were going to fuck me tonight?” His eyes went wide suddenly. You had heard that?!

“Uh… I-I’m sorry… Noona I-I was just talking, trying to make Matt mad… I’m sorry…” Your face fell and you stopped toying with his hair.

“You didn’t really mean that you wanted to then?” You started to get off Jeongin’s lap, your face flushed with embarrassment as tears started to prick your eyes again. You felt incredibly stupid for saying and doing that, what were you thinking? Of course he didn’t want to fuck you he’s your best friend. He said that to make your ex mad and he was saying all those things to you to be nice. To comfort you like a good friend does. Before you could get off Jeongin’s lap though his strong hands grabbed hold of your full fleshy hips and held you in place on top of him.

“Don’t! Don’t get up.” He pulled you the rest of the way down on his lap again so your full weight rested on his thighs. Jeongin pushed your hair away from your face so he could look you in the eyes again before his hands moved to rest on the curve of your waist continuing to hold you in place.

“If you want that Y/N, then yes, I want that. But…” Jeongin was hesitant say the next words. Your fingers played with the hair at his nape again, coaxing him to go on as you looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“But I don’t just want to fuck you. I… I’m in love with you Y/N. I always have been.” It seemed like your eyes glowed even brighter when he said those words. Your lips turned up into a small smile that Jeongin was relieved to see.

“Innie, all this time… why didn’t you ever say anything?” Jeongin sighed.

“We’re friends and I thought you wouldn’t take me seriously since I’m younger than you.” You shook your head.

“Inn… Jeongin. I’m only 2 years older than you it’s not like it’s a huge age gap.” Jeongin shrugged his shoulders.

“I know but you always date older guys and you call me baby bread like the hyungs do, you always told your boyfriends I was like a little brother to you. So, I thought you would reject me if I said anything and I didn’t want to risk ruining our friendship.” You nodded as Jeongin explained, understanding now why he had never said anything.

“I was compartmentalizing my feelings Innie, so that my partners would feel more confident in our relationships, so that they wouldn’t feel threatened and try to interfere with our friendship. I didn’t take into account how that might affect YOU in our relationship though and I’m sorry.” Jeongin grabbed a hold of your face, his hands were rough but so gentle. He leaned in closer to you, his lips hovering so close to yours. You closed your eyes and held your breath.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about Y/N.” Jeongin’s lips met yours. Soft lips pressed against soft lips. It was like a supernova went off in your chest the way your heart thumped out of control. The kiss started tender, lips slotted together, soon your tongues were tasting, tracing the inside of each other’s mouths. Before long you were practically ravaging each other, teeth tugging at full lips, both tongues trying to assert dominance. When you shifted on Jeongin’s lap his hard on pressed against you pulling an unexpected moan from you. Jeongin broke the kiss and looked at you. His eyes were such a dark brown.

“FUCK! That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard Y/N.” He growled the words and his lips crashed into yours again. Jeongin feverishly kissed you as his hands gripped the soft love handles on your waist and rocked you against him harder making you moan louder into his mouth this time. You both were completely fueled by lust as you moved against his firm cock over his jeans, the pressure against your clit, even through the fabric separating you, was making your body thrum with excitement. Jeongin leaned back against the couch still guiding your movements. He watched with hooded eyes, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth as you held onto his shoulders and rode him, your big breasts bouncing along with your rhythm.

“God you’re so fucking gorgeous Y/N. Does it feel good?” You were flushed and softly panting as you shook your head up and down.

“Good baby, I’m gonna make you cum now okay pretty girl?” He leaned forward and kissed you again wrapping one of his arms around you to pull you closer to him. Jeongin slid his hand down your plush tummy past the waistband of your pants and panties. When his fingers dipped into your soft wet folds your breathing hitched and you stopped moving.

“No no baby. Don’t stop, keep riding my fingers. Want you to cum for me. Can you do that Y/N?” You shook your head again you were having trouble forming words he was making you feel so good. You started rutting your hips against Jeongin’s hand as his lips and teeth worked over your neck and shoulder, leaving love marks behind, his tongue soothing each one after. Every grind against his fingers sent chills through your whole body and you could feel your climax creeping up on you quickly.

“I-Innie…fuck…I-I… I’m so close…” Blush was creeping up your chest and neck as your labored breaths came in between you trying to form words. Jeongin slid his fingers past your clit and pushed them inside you, curling them so they rubbed against your g spot with every grind of your hips. Your jaw fell slack and your eyes went wide.

“JEONGIN!” A slight smile crept on to his face hearing you scream his name like that just because of his fingers.

“Come on you can do it, cum for me beautiful, make a mess on my hand.” Jeongin started pumping his fingers deeper into you as you continued to slide across his lap chasing your orgasm. When Jeongin pressed his thumb firmly against your clit it pushed you over the edge and you came.

“Oh… oh my god..Jeo..Je..In-Innie… !” Were the only words you were able to remotely form as you fucked yourself on his hand, his fingers still pushing into you, his thumb roughly rubbing against your clit. You hugged Jeongin’s head shoving his face into your supple breasts. He pulled your tank top down and kissed and nipped at the soft skin on the top of your breasts as you shivered and twitched through the remnants of your orgasm.

Jeongin removed his fingers from you and brought them to his mouth, licking the pads of them to taste you before sticking them into your mouth. You sucked on them willingly and your teeth grazed his fingers as he retracted them.

“Fucking gorgeous, god damn. Just gorgeous.” Before you could think, let alone reply to Jeongin’s words, he gripped your thick thighs with his big hands, lifted and flipped you so you were under him on the couch now. You let out a little squeak at the show of strength.

“Jeongin!” You breathed out his name in surprise. He looked down at you a little glint in his eye and a smirk, one that looked mischievous.

“What? Are you surprised I know how to handle my girl?” Another wave of arousal washed over you hearing Jeongin call you, HIS girl. You tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth.

“I’m not baby bread anymore beautiful. I’m going to show you how you should have been treated all along.” Jeongin stood and pulled his shirt off over his head and then quickly started working at his pants and boxers tossing each article of clothing aside before kneeling on the couch and helping you remove the yoga pants and tank top you had been wearing. Once you were completely naked under Jeongin his fox-like eyes narrowed and took in every curve, every soft cushiony piece of your body. Completely enamored by you. He started speaking absent mindedly, his thoughts just forming in his head and coming from his mouth as he took in your form.

“Y/N did you know most artist depictions of Aphrodite show her with hips and dips, a tummy and full breasts.” Jeongin leaned in close and whispered in your ear.

“How do I have the real-life Aphrodite under me right now?” You blushed at his words and looked away but he tilted your chin urging you look at him.

“Look at me.” You did.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on Y/N, every piece of your body should be kissed and loved baby.” Jeongin placed a kiss on your lips, your jaw, your neck. Soft kisses trailed and traced along your body as his hands caressed the curves of your breasts and hips gently touching you where ever his lips and tongue were not. After truly worshiping your body with the soft prayers that were his lips he kissed your mouth again, this time deeper, more passionate. Tracing his tongue across your lips as it dipped between them. Your head was buzzing but you wanted more, needed more. You needed Jeongin.

“Please! Jeongin, please fuck me.” Jeongin leaned over you bending your knees and pushing your legs apart so he had better access to your dripping cunt.

“Anything you want baby. Anything for you.” With those words Jeongin spit in his hand and rubbed it over the head of his thick cock, sliding it through your wet folds before guiding it towards your aching core. When the head of his dick pushed into you you let out a soft gasp.

“Are you okay? I’m not hurting you am I?” Jeongin asked sweetly. You shook your head no.

“No…I’m okay… mmmmm… just BIG. Go slow?” Jeongin gave you a small smile and nodded at you as he slowly sank into your cunt deeper. Your finger nails dug into his shoulder leaving little indents behind as you felt the stretch and sting of Jeongin’s thick cock being pushed deeper and deeper inside of you until he was fully engulfed in your sweet warm wetness. You could hear the low growl come from the bottom of his chest as he tried to compose himself and not just start ramming into you mercilessly. It was hard to control himself but he didn’t want to hurt you so he slowly pulled out to the tip and pushed into you again a little faster than the last time. He kept doing that in and out. Slowly until you started rocking your hips and meeting his gentle thrusts into you.

“I’m gonna go a little harder now baby. Are you ready?” You bit your lip and nodded.

“Yes Innie.” Your voice was so sweet to his ears it shouldn’t have sent more blood rushing to his cock making him throb inside you, but it did, he was so hard. He pulled out and pushed into you the hardest he had yet and you moaned out in pleasure as the head of his dick hit your g spot.

“FUCK! Jeongin… right there… keep doing that.” He heeded your instruction and started moving faster thrusting into you at that same angle and abusing the soft spot with the tip of his cock over and over. You pussy was soaked and the sounds of his skin connecting with your wet cunt every time he pumped himself into you deeper egged Jeongin on to fuck you harder. He gripped you by your squishy hips and his fingers dug in as he fucked you faster and harder.

“God baby you are taking my big cock so well. You’re so pretty. Every inch of you feels so fucking good. I can’t get enough of you baby, gonna have to have you on my cock all the time beautiful.” You moaned out at the praise. He made your body buzz with his words.

“Yes… yes Jeongin. Want you to fuck me when ever you want. How ever you want.” Hearing you say that Jeongin flashed you a mischievous smile again. He pulled his dick out of you and wrapped his arms around you pulling you up flush with his own body. Your big soft breasts squished against his chest as he kissed you.

“Turn over baby. Push out that beautiful ass and let me see your pretty pussy from the back.” His words were like ecstasy and practically made you drip down your legs with excitement. You did exactly as he told you to and bent over presenting your ass and drenched cunt to him arching your back. Jeongin’s hand came down and connected with your supple ass cheek causing a delicious sting.

“Innie!” You jerked and moaned out in surprise looking back at him. His smirk grew as he rubbed the red hand print that was appearing. As he massaged away the pain, he sunk his cock back into your soaked pussy. His hands gripped your hips and gently pulled you back on him as he pushed his aching cock into you deeper. Jeongin ran his hands from your hips over your voluptuous ass and up the small of your back easing you down, your face rested on the couch cushions, arms out in front of you holding onto the arm of the couch. His hands followed back up the trail they had come from stopping to grope your ass and spread you so he could see his cock sliding in and out of you covered in you juices. The sight set something off in him. He gripped your soft hips firmer than he had before and stopped moving.

“Y/N you better hold on to whatever you can.” As soon as the warning passed his lips his hips started pounding into you full force and fast. Each thrust pushing your face into the couch cushions harder as you tried to keep your hold on the arm of the couch.

“Fuck! Oh… God-fuck yes fuck me hard Jeongin Fuck me, yes.” He continued fucking into you hard and fast bringing you closer and closer to your climax. Your walls tightened around his cock, he let out a grunt and squeezed his eyes closed.

“Oh fuck baby… I’m so fucking close. Are you close beautiful? Are you gonna on my cock?” You moaned out in utter ecstasy unable to form words. He knew you were close the sound your sopping pussy made every time he slammed into you made it obvious. Still he wanted to hear it from your mouth.

“Talk to me gorgeous… FUCK… are you gonna cum for me baby?” You panted the next words out.

“Ye-yes I-I-Innie… go-gonna c-c-cuumMMM! Jeong-Je-J In!” You screamed out fragments of his name as he drove his cock deep into you. You twitched and throbbed around him coming so hard you couldn’t see. Jeongin kept fucking you deeper rocking his hips hard against your ass searching for his own high as well as riding you through your orgasm. Making your cunt tighten and squeeze his cock harder.

“Fuck. FUCK! Baby… baby… I’m gonna cum!” You moaned out and begged for it.

“Yes Innie give me your cum. Want it Innie please.” He grunted and slammed deep in to you one more time before pulling out and stroking the head of his cock quickly. He moaned out as his thick, warm, cum painted your full ass in stripes. You could feel it warm pooling on your lower back, dripping down your ass and onto your cunt.

“Fuck baby, so much cum covering you right now. You look so fucking good covered in my big load pretty girl.” Jeongin massaged one of your ass cheeks with his finger tips as he tugged on his cock, smearing the last of his cum across your ass. He pressed the underside of the tip of his cock between your ass cheeks and slid it up and down over your cum overed ass hole. You clenched at the sensation as he smeared his cum up and down, twitching from the overstimulation to the head of his dick. You propped yourself back up on your elbows and reached around with one hand, running your fingers through the pool of warm cum that had landed on your back and sucked them clean. Jeongin’s eyes rolled back and he closed them biting at his lips.

“Fuck baby. How do I taste?” You ran your fingers through his cum again and sucked more off humming in appreciation as your wiggled your cum coated ass against the head of his cock he had pressed against you.

“You taste so good Innie…mmmm.. taste soo good.” Jeongin kneaded your ass cheek for a moment longer with his cock nestled in between them, appreciating the complete mess he’d made of your ass and cunt. His smeared cum coating your ass cheeks like a glaze as you continued to run your fingers through it and clean yourself off sucking and savoring the taste of him on your fingers each time as Jeongin watched you.

“Fuck baby, you look so sexy eating my cum.” He leaned over, kissed and playfully took a bite of one of your ass cheeks and your pulled away laughing still sucking the last of his cum from the tips of your fingers.

“How about I get you cleaned up and we can watch this other movie?” You leaned back down on the couch and nodded as Jeongin got up and ran to get a warm cloth to clean you up with. When he came back, he wiped what you hadn’t scooped off and eaten off your backside and then ran it down your sensitive cunt. You winced at the sensation of the warm rag just a little but it was soothing.

“Did I go to hard? You’re not hurt are you?” Jeongin asked as he finished cleaning you off. You turned over and laid on the couch on your side propping yourself up on one elbow looking at him.

“No Innie, I’m fine. You were great, that was amazing really.” You lazily smiled as you laid there your cheeks, chest and breasts, even the tops of your thick thighs were painted in blush. Jeongin slotted himself between you and the back of the couch and wrapped his arms around you. You grabbed one of the mountain blankets from before, covered up and turned the movie back on as Jeongin held your soft body against his. You tilted your head and looked back at him. The tv screen giving you just enough light to admire his face this closely for the first time. His strong jaw, the five o’clock shadow that was starting to peek, he looked down at you.

“What, do I have something on my face?” You laughed and shook your head no.

“Just you were right. You are NOT baby bread anymore.” His eyes narrowed a bit and he smirked.

“More like daddy toast now.” His eyes narrowed further as he gave you that look he always gave you when you’ve said a stupid joke. He shook his head and laughed pulling you tighter against him. Legs and arms tangled; you watched the movie until you both fell asleep on the couch. Jeongin was your best friend and from that night on your lover.

You guys can request certain idols(for links) In my asks you know☺️😚 I can do txt and skz:))

GENIUS writer. Genius I tell you!

Sunset

Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut, non idol

Warnings: Unprotected sex (Wrap it up, guys), Cheating (Married reader/ Chan is dating someone) , Strangers to One night lovers, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Oral sex (M receiving) Slightly rough, Uh.. that’s it really? It’s just Smut, Sorry if I missed any tags. Explicit content so MDNI please.

Word Count: 2677

Note: First Person POV + This was something that I just whipped up real quick and wanted to share. It’s short compared to what I usually like to write but I thought you’d enjoy it! Just a quick smutty Chan fic to entertain ya.

Summary: The Sunset diner is your go to place to retreat, it allows you to meet new people while immersing yourself in the arts. It’s become your routine to relax at the diner every night and seek some...company. One night a new customer arrives and you just cant seem to keep your eyes off of him. You have to have him.

Y/n’s Pov

The Sunset studio and diner has always been a safe haven for me, ever since I was thirteen years old my step dad would bring me here and buy me a hot chocolate and two cookies before letting me roam around the studio and stare at the artwork in awe. It bought him enough time to smash whatever girl he picked up along the way in the bathroom then come back and act like he was never gone. I never cared, I was too fascinated with the artwork and the soft melodies of the guitars that the customers brought from home, or the grand piano by the entrance being played by whoever thought they were good enough to have the entire studio hear them. I was always amazed by those people, by their confidence, it was different from the kind that I possessed and I enjoyed being in its presence. No one has dared to play the piano in months though, not in my visits to the diner. 

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Wowwiieeee. I don't think I've ever been so infatuated with a story like this. I have never been one for fantasy or bxb smut but this is just so beautifully written. Your takes on humanity are so true and the way you spin it into this faerie fantasy web has me kicking my feet and giggling like an idiot. You are so genius. Ugh. Love love love. And the forget me nots flowers being the only ones left. Stop i wanted to cry. Maybe i did but shut up no i didn't

a trick of the light (chan/felix)

Chan wanders into a faerie ring during a hike. He is taken and enslaved by the faeries, and though he’s furious and dreams of escape, he can’t deny that the king catches his eye. But Chan shouldn’t want the very person holding him prisoner, should he? And regardless, King Felix couldn’t possibly be interested in a mere human.

Characters: Chan, Felix, Hyunjin, Jeongin, Minho

Genre: oneshot, smut, fae!au, faerie!felix/human!chan, falling in love

Warnings: it’s not dub-con per se (everyone wants everything that happens in sexual and romantic scenes) but there are some tricky elements. there is the question of the influence of magic, as well as the nature of any relationship between a captor and those they hold captive.

Rating: Explicit

Length: 25k

It takes five days, Chan is later told, of keeping him on sedatives, before he doesn’t resist. Everyone says they’re glad the delirium cleared, that he was able to fight through it and recover.

“Malnourishment and dehydration do terrible things to the brain,” the doctor tells him. “But typically the confusion dissipates once your body is no longer so exhausted.”

“I knew you were crazy, but not that crazy,” his little sister says, rolling her eyes, when she’s allowed in to visit. 

Chan lets her hug him. He lets his family believe it was just a momentary lapse—delusion brought on by exposure to the elements, just as the doctors say. That he stopped fighting because he stopped believing it. 

The truth is, he’s not sure what to believe anymore. He knows how it sounds; he saw the terror in his mother’s eyes when he tried to explain everything that happened, when he tried to make them understand as the nurses pinned him down and stuck him with drugs that put him under, that made him slow and weak so he couldn’t so much as lift a finger. And they’re right—it is crazy. But he can’t accept that it was just a hallucination, or a particularly vivid dream his starving brain had conjured up when he lay dying in the woods. 

It had felt so real. 

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can i have some dom jisung links please 😩😩 i love your page and i am crumbling at the thought of him ❤️❤️❤️

Dom Jisung Links!

The way i know Dom jisung would be slow and sweet like this, but slowly his need for you seeps into him too deep to be driven out again. Jisung would be so needy from this, but obviously he would never admit to that.

Days when jisung would let you grind yourself against his tounge, obviously he doesn't let you cum though. You can do that on his cock<3

Sorry this is such soft Dom content:'( But thank you so much for supporting my page it means so much! <3

If you like my content and would like to support me you can tip me! Or just like my post! That works too.<3

🗂️GENERAL MASTERLIST

❗ DISCLAIMER:

This blog hosts content that is intended for mature (+18) audiences ONLY. Please read About & FAQs before you engage. All work incorporates afab!Reader insert unless otherwise stated.

Thank you and enjoy your STAY~

BY WORK

SERIES (Newest to oldest)

· REBLOG (upcoming) · THE ZONE · THE ODDINARY SUSPECTS · THE PUNCHLINE · LOOKING FOR SYDNEY · SCENE STEALERS 2: THE SENIOR YEAR · SCENE STEALERS ONE-SHOTS (Newest to oldest)

· TKO (Lee Know x Reader) · BETTER WHEN IT FEELS WRONG (Lee Know x Reader) · BUBBLEGUM (Lee Know x Reader x Chan) · A CONVERSATION WITH THE ARTIST (Hyunjin x Gender-neutral Reader)

BY MEMBER

· OT8 · CHAN · MINHO · CHANGBIN · HYUNJIN · JISUNG · FELIX · SEUNGMIN* · JEONGIN*

*Please refer to the OT8 tab. “The Oddinary Suspects” is currently the only story these members are starring in, rather than featuring.

Can you tell i have Minho BRAINROT. Fuck this mf for doing this to me what right does he have? I need to go to sleep for months straight at this point

LEE KNOW ⋮ SKZ TALKER GO ! S.3 EP.09 SEOUL

I'll keep an eye out! Super excited ☺️

INNINGS.

PART I

Seungmin x reader. (s,f)

Chapters: Part II / Part III

Author's note: I'm in the mood for a fluff, this is actually the most sfw fic I've ever written. Part 2 will be out next Sunday!

"I have written down all the ideas, and you can start by trying to develop each one into a story," you pushed the note to him and showed him the things you jotted down during the brainstorming you did a while ago.

Seungmin nodded as you gave him detailed instructions cause it was his turn to continue working on the group project of writing a piece of fiction for the creative writing class.

You gave up guessing why he took the class in the first place because his major is Management, plus, he's a star of our baseball team, you don't see why he needs to work this hard because he's already earned his place.

"I will try my best," he said to you and took the note from you.

You gathered all of your things from the table and stuffed them into your bag.

"You got any other plans for today?" He asked, pushing his hair to the back, and it only made his hair messy, but the attractive kind of messy.

You shook your head, "I don't make plans on the weekend. I usually just stay at home and eat and sleep," you winced, regretting that you gave him too much information that he didn't need to hear.

"I don't have any plans as well," he said, slinging his backpack on his shoulder, "I was thinking if we can go somewhere together?"

You looked at him, and he looked at you with a glint of anticipation, waiting for your answer.

"Only if you want to, of course," he immediately added.

It was only 5 in the afternoon, and there was no harm in going somewhere with him, and who knows, you might enjoy spending your weekend not cooped out in your small rented studio.

You nodded, "Yeah, sure, why not?" And tried to sound coy when you gave your answer.

He beamed a smile at you, he stood from his chair, "shall we go now?" He asked.

"Do you have any ideas on where to go?" You asked him once both of you exited the library. The sun was still shining, and it felt nice to feel the warm glow of it after spending hours in the library.

"I have a place to go to have some fun," he said, fixing up the collar of his varsity jacket that he always wears almost every day, and when he is not wearing it, he carries it around by hanging it on the strap of his backpack.

You have no idea what kind of fun he has in mind, but you got curious to find out what kind of person he is outside the campus.

"Oh, that sounds nice," you responded with a smile.

It was hard to catch up on his walk because his stride is wide, and you had to walk a little faster to match your pace with him.

He was aware of it too, he suppressed a laugh when he realized you were half-jogging rather than walking, then decided to slow down, taking smaller steps as you both made your way through the crowded streets.

Seungmin took you somewhere that somehow looked like a parking lot, but once you entered the place and the constant thumping sounds you heard from the inside, you recognized that it is a batting cage.

"So, this is your idea of fun?" You asked him with eyes widened in disbelief, "more baseball?"

He nodded while grinning.

"I mean, you practice baseball all week long, and you play some more baseball to have fun?" You asked again since his first answer didn't satisfy you.

He nodded again, "this is fun," he assured you, then went checked in. The man at the front desk showed him the available slot among the row of cages.

"Come on!" He told you, and you followed him from behind. Your eyes lingered on the broad of his shoulders from the back, and his varsity jacket does nothing but accentuate it.

He opened the door to the batting cage, took a bat, and practiced a few swings before the machine started shooting balls in his direction. You winced every time Seungmin hit the ball right with the bat and made a loud popping sound.

And this is why he's the baseball star, he nailed every throw pitched at him, you knew it wasn't the same with the real game but still, watching him doing what he's good at is another level of attractive.

He lightly panted, then put down the baseball bat, opened the door, and held out his hand at you.

"It's your turn now!" He announced, stepping down a stair still with his hand held out at you.

You looked down at his hand with veins coiling on the back of his hand and down to his long, slender fingers.

"Huh?" Your eyes widen, nonplussed, "I'm not playing," you meekly said.

"I'll teach you," he said with a smile.

You shook your head, "No, no, no," you kindly refused his offer, "I'll stay here and cheer you up,"

He rolled his eyes, "my hand is getting tired here," his eyes motioned to his still outstretched hand at you.

You grimaced but caved in at the end, you took his hand, and he helped you climb the stairs into the cage.

"Just a warning, I'm so bad at sports," you whined, almost like a fussy toddler.

Seungmin handed you a wooden bat, "that's why I'm here,"

You reluctantly took the baseball bat from him, "I-"

Seungmin grabbed you by your waist and positioned yourself in front of him, facing to the side.

He placed his hands on your shoulders next, "first, line up your shoulders with your legs,"

You stood up straighter and did what he told you to do.

Seungmin looked down at your feet, "spread your legs wider," he ordered.

"Oh, wow, and you didn't even buy me dinner first," you joked and regretted saying it once it got out of your mouth.

Seungmin softly chuckled with his cheeks blushing profusely.

He cleared his throat, then put his hands on the small of your back, "keep your knees bend," he ordered.

You obeyed and bent your knees, awkwardly.

"Don't crouch or stoop," he warned, he grabbed your waist and swayed your body side to side, "it's important to have a steady and grounded stance," he added.

"Now, let me see how you hold the bat," he commanded.

You lifted the baseball bat and held it the way you know how to hold it.

"Is it right?" You asked him.

He put his hands on yours, "Don't hold the bat in the palms, it won't allow you to flex your wrist," he commented, then helped you wrap your fingers around the bat.

He traced your knuckles with his fingers, "see this?" He asked you.

You nodded.

"You should line up your knuckles," he said, so attentive as if he was training you to be a player.

When he was sure you gripped the bat the correct way, he showed you how to take a good swing. He practiced with you a few times as he whispered instructions so close to your ear.

"Keep your body in a straight line and keep your eyes on the ball," he instructed, again practicing another swing along with you.

"Relax your muscles and be ready," he finished but with his body pushed so close behind you only makes it harder for you to relax.

He put his hands away from yours and stepped back, "I think you're ready," he announced with a grin.

You suddenly felt so self-conscious that he left you on your own, "what if I'm not hitting any ball?" You asked him.

"We can always play another round," he casually said.

You roughly wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans before gripping the bat again, "what if the ball hit me in the face?"

Seungmin burst out laughing, "that won't happen," he assured you, then got out of the cage to watch you behind the chain-linked fence.

You let out a long sigh as the machine signaled that it was ready to pitch the ball, you repeated the instructions Seungmin gave you earlier in your head.

"Keep your eyes on the ball," you repeatedly said.

With a loud pop, the ball shot in your direction, and instead of swinging your bat, you dodged it.

"What am I doing??" You frantically shouted at yourself, then uneasily glanced at Seungmin.

"It's okay, just keep your eyes on the ball!" He instructed again.

You quickly got ahold of yourself, then gripped the bat so tight, you shifted your focus back ahead.

"Keep your eyes on the ball," you repeatedly said to yourself like it was a scared prayer.

When the ball came at you, you held up your bat over your shoulder just like how you practiced, then when the ball was close enough, you began to swing it, and there was a loud bang.

You successfully hit the ball with the bat, your mouth agape in surprise, then looked at Seungmin in awe.

"I did that?!" You asked him for confirmation.

He nodded while grinning from ear to ear, "look straight ahead! The next one is about to come!" He reminded you.

You succeeded in batting 6 out 10 and insisted on going for another round to make a better record.

"Not going to lie, that was so much fun!" You exclaimed with a stupid grin on your face.

Seungmin held out his hand to help you get down the stairs but ended up lifting you by your waist to get you off since you were too ecstatic to watch your steps.

"I'm glad you had fun!" He sincerely said, then put a cold canned drink in your hand, "here's to soothe your hand"

You looked at the inside of your hands and winced, "ouch!"

You didn't realize your palms were red and raw from gripping the bat too hard, you squeezed the canned drink and let the cold seep in.

"Your turn now!" You said to him.

"You want me to go again?"

You nodded, "yes," you replied while wrapping both of your hands around the cold canned drink.

"Okay then, I'll go," he said then got into the cage.

You watched as he took his stance and swung the bat over his shoulder like it was a natural thing to do, many people had been saying he looked so attractive when he plays, and that was when you knew what the fuzz is all about.

"Do you think I can make it into the team?" You half-heartedly asked him as you dipped your French fry into ketchup.

Maybe because you weren't used to using your body for sports that you got so hungry and finished the burger in under a few minutes.

"Maybe," he replied, after a moment of hard thinking.

You chuckled and dipped another fry into the ketchup then shoved it into your mouth.

"You got something..." he said to you, gesturing to your mouth.

You quickly wiped whatever was on your mouth.

He shook his head, "I'm sorry, but I have to invade your private space," he said to you before reaching up and wiping a drop of ketchup on the corner of your mouth with a tissue.

You hurriedly took the tissue from him and wiped it yourself, "thanks," you muttered and roughly wiped all over your mouth, just in case.

You looked down to avoid his gaze that somehow made you flustered. You never felt like this for a long time, the butterflies, the heart flips, and whatever it is that made the cold of your heart slowly melt. Actually, you never let yourself feel all of these things because they were all trivial and always led you to disappointment.

But something about him made your heart shift, all of these times, you thought of him as not more than just a popular guy on the campus, and that he'd act like an actual jock.

You smiled because he isn't so bad, maybe you shouldn't trust your prejudice in the first place.

"How're your hands?" He asked you.

You held out your hands with your palms up, "it wasn't as hurt," you answered.

He leaned forward to look at your hands, and his fingers trailed the bumps on your palms, "apply some ointment when you get home," he suggested.

"Can I see your hands?" You asked him, out of curiosity.

He held out his hands at you on the table.

You saw how his hands are calloused and rough, from years and years of training and holding a bat, you traced the bumps on his palm and cooed.

When you looked up, his face was so close to yours, and you could see the shine of his dark hair and imagined how soft it would feel in your hands.

He lifted his head, and his eyes met yours, you retracted yourself immediately, feeling flustered.

"My friend always said I don't have a knack for sports. I can't wait to tell her about today," you said with a grin on your face.

Seungmin softly laughed, his hand wrapped around his cup of soda.

"So, how long you've been friends with Kim?" He suddenly asked.

You got taken aback by his question but gave him the benefit of the doubt, he probably had seen you around with Kim on the campus.

"We're friends since junior high school," you answered, then reclined on your seat.

"She is quite something," Seungmin said with a snicker.

That was when the smile on your face slowly fades, not again, you said to yourself.

"She has a lot of fireworks in her," he added.

You scoffed and laughed to yourself, "yeah, she is," you half-heartedly added.

You refused Seungmin’s offer to drive you home and took the bus home instead, you felt the urge to be alone and be in your own space.

Arrived in your cramped, small studio, you face-planted onto your bed and just let your thoughts drown you in like usual.

You thought about how Seungmin almost got you with your guard down only to find out he was just like another guy who tried to get close to you, with the ultimate intention to get close to your best friend, Kim.

Kim is undeniably attractive, but apart from her physical appearance, she is the kind of person who got everything that comes easy for her and is good at everything. She knows how to get around people, in conclusion, she's everything you are not. She's always been the center of attention the moment you became friends with her, and you have always been there by her side, as the sidekick, the less attractive of the two, and last but not least, a quick gateway if anyone wanted to get close to her.

It had happened more than a handful of times already, some guys approached you only to ask you about Kim. You reminded yourself that it's not her fault, she didn't ask to be born that attractive the same as you didn't ask to be born less attractive than her.

You never felt bothered by it but sometimes, sometimes you just got so tired of explaining yourself to people that you are more than just Kim's best friend.

The next time you met Seungmin to work on your project, you worked in silence and only talked when you needed to. The silence became so deafening that Seungmin sensed something was slightly amiss.

"Are you okay?" He asked you while shuffling the papers in his hands.

"Yes," you shortly replied without looking away from the screen of your laptop.

You both continued working with the dead air hung in the space between you and him, it wasn't easy for you too but you swore to yourself never to let your guard down again.

Once you were done typing everything on your laptop, you shut it down and closed it.

"I think we're done," you informed him, gathering your notes on the table and putting your pens back into the case.

"I can do the final editing," Seungmin offered, but with the unpleasant look you gave him, he retreated himself.

"If you let me, of course," he quickly added.

You put your things back inside your tote bag, "It's okay, I can do it for us," you kindly refused.

Seungmin smiled back, "To be honest, you'll do a better job than me," he weakly said.

You felt bad for being so sour when all he did was being good to you, you forced a smile and said, "I'll email you the final edit, and you can tell me if there's something you want to change," you said to him.

He smiled back at you, and somehow it made you feel so warm inside.

"Can I treat you dinner?" He asked, scratching the back of his neck as he did.

You hummed for a while before coming up with an answer, "what about I treat you tonight?" You offered.

Seungmin got slightly surprised by the turn of the event and that he thought things were coming back to normal between you two.

"Only if you let me treat you dinner the next time," he said with an eyebrow raised.

You shrugged in defeat, "sure!" You replied, then got up from your seat.

You settled on your favorite pizza place that serves the most delicious cheese pizza, but that night you ordered half cheese and half pepperoni in large size.

"I don't think the two of us can finish this," Seungmin said when he looked down at the steaming pizza with cheese bubbling on top, the smell of it was almost aphrodisiac.

You pushed his cup of drink to the front of him on the table, "someone will be joining us soon," you told him.

And just like she was being summoned, Kim came through the door and shot you a teeth-baring smile the moment he spotted you.

You waved at her, and she half-jogged to your table, "oh my God, the pizza is here already!" She exclaimed.

She quickly sat down on the empty chair between you and Seungmin, she didn't waste time to take a slice and bit on it.

With her mouth busy chewing the food, she turned her head and jolted on her seat, "Oh, Seungmin!" She exclaimed.

You handed her your cup of drink, and she quickly swallowed her food to take a sip, "did you guys just work on that project together?" She asked.

Your eyebrows were raised in question because you never told her about it, well, you told her about the project but not about who your partner is.

You stifled a nod, "Yes, but how-"

"Always a pleasure to meet you, Kim," Seungmin cut in, then bit into his pizza.

Kim nodded in acknowledgment. So they have talked to each other before? It was obvious now because they didn't seem awkward toward each other.

"Seungmin, are you even allowed to eat pizza? Aren't you suppose to be on a strict diet?" Kim teased as she shove a piece of pizza crust into her mouth.

Seungmin snickered, "Only if you don't tell, Kim,"

"Are you aware that you'll not be 22 forever?" She asked him, taking another slice and tearing a piece.

"Yes, but I don't see how is that related to pizza," he replied.

You watched their conversation intently like watching a tennis match, Kim turned her head at you and laughed.

"Oh, have I told you that Seungmin and I went to the same kindergarten," she explained and tore another piece of pizza.

You gasped at the newfound revelation.

"Our moms are sort of besties," Kim explained more.

It was getting more obvious that they are close, closer than you thought. You nodded along and felt your appetite dissipate as you watched them talking and how good they looked together. And you saw the bigger picture, that maybe it wasn't a bad idea for them to be together and maybe they're meant to be, you never know but it was time for you to be out of that picture.

You dropped your unfinished slice of pizza and got up from your seat,

"I'm sorry, guys, but I have to go," you informed and hastily gathered all of your things, "I forgot that I have something to do with my mom and that I-" you blabbered, "I need to clean my room or else she'd give me hell," you sighed from excessive explanation you did.

"But you haven't finished your pizza yet, it's your favorite cheese pizza!" Kim said, getting up from her seat, but you pushed her back down onto her seat.

"I'm in a hurry, you know my mom," you came up with a false excuse.

"I'll go with you then," Kim offered.

"No, no, please stay," you refused and took a step back from the table,

"Stay and eat the pizza. It's my treat," you convinced her and put on a smile, "I'll be taking the bus, do not worry," you added.

"I can drive you if you're in a hurry," Seungmin offered.

You shook your head, "No, no, no, it's okay," you quickly refused.

You slowly retreated from the table, "I'll get going now, bye everyone!" You waved your hand at them then walked out of the door. You resisted the urge to look back and kept on walking.

Later at night, Kim came knocking on your door and barged in the second you opened the door.

"I know there's something wrong," she exclaimed as she plopped down on the love seat. She looked around your small studio and sighed, "you would have cleaned your desk if your mom really is coming," she said, looking up at you with squinted eyes.

"Your mom's favorite drama is playing every Saturday night, and on Sunday morning, she has that volunteer work at the nursing home," she elaborated as she put up her legs on the seat.

You probably shouldn't have lied to your friend, especially the one that had known you for years and knew every detail of your life

There was no way to escape this but to come out clean. You sighed then sat next to her, "Seungmin likes you, and I think," you paused and tried to ignore the twinge in your heart when you mentioned his name, "he's a good guy, and I think you look good together,"

Kim burst out laughing and reached for the snack you always stored under the table, opened a pack of chips, and began munching.

"I'm just trying to set you guys," you weakly said.

"You sound like a total dumbass right now," she said with her mouth full of food.

"I am not going to take that personally," you sneered at her.

Kim sat up straighter and scooted closer to you, "Listen," she began, "what I'm about to say to you is a hundred percent confidential, but since you got your panties in a twist, I have to intervene here,"

You looked at her rather confused and wide-eyed, "what are you talking about?"

She stopped munching and put down the bag of chips on the table, "Seungmin likes you," she said.

Your heart skipped a beat, "what?"

"He likes you," she repeated, "at the beginning of the term, he asked what classes you took, and you think he took a creative writing class for the grade, no honey, he did all that for you," she explained with her index finger pointed at you.

But the more she explained, the more confused you got, "wait, what?"

Kim heavily sighed, "he did all that to get close to you! that's how much he likes you,"

"But I thought he likes you," you stuttered and froze on your seat, learning the newfound truth about his real intention to you.

Kim rolled her eyes, "please, I've seen him piss his pants during a school trip, and he has seen my face got swollen from my allergy. We disgusted each other enough to have a romantic feeling," she groaned.

You stifled a laugh, surprisingly feeling so relieved that it was just a misunderstanding and also felt bad for being unpleasant to him, or worst, he thought that you didn't have the same feeling for him.

"I think I just blew my chance," you sadly declared.

Kim patted your shoulder a few times, "Hey, I never said it's too late to get him now,"

You glanced at her, "you knew?"

"Of course, I know you like him," she said as if it was obvious to her, then took the bag of chips back on her lap and started munching again.

It had been days since the last time you met after that little mishap in the pizza place, you saw him around the campus but never could get yourself to, at least, say hi to him.

Plus, the piling assignments didn't help and kept you occupied the whole week. It took its peak when you got called to your professor's office.

Your heart beating out of control as you stood in front of the door of his office, you took a deep breath before finally knocking on his door.

"Come in!" You faintly heard the voice from inside the office.

You swung the door open and saw your professor was talking to another student in his office, only when you got closer did you realize it was Seungmin.

"I called you both to let you know that I really like your writing," your professor told you both as you stood there facing his desk.

You sighed in relief and felt the knot in your stomach loosen, you glanced at Seungmin and smiled at him, glad to see him again than hearing the praises from your lecturer.

When the appreciation speech ended, and he let you both be on your way, you sighed the second you closed the door behind you.

Seungmin stood there next to you, "I think we make a good team," he said to you.

You smiled because the first thing he said to you after that unfortunate day was a positive thing.

"Yeah, I think we did," you agreed.

There was a silence awkward after all, but you quickly came up with something from letting the silence go on, "I think we should celebrate it," you said to him.

Seungmin nodded, "I'd love that,"

You thought of a place you can go to later when you are both done with your classes, "I think we can go to that cafe we-"

"But I can't, I have practice today," Seungmin added.

You closed your mouth and stopped talking, "oh," you tried not to sound sad but failed.

Seungmin pushed his hair to the back and always looked attractive doing so, "what about tomorrow?"

"Yes, sure," you immediately answered and winced for answering it too quickly.

Seungmin softly laughed, his eyes crinkled under the sunny afternoon light. He looked down at his phone screen to check the time, "I'll text you for tomorrow, I have to go now," he said, hoisting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder.

You nodded in acknowledgment, "yeah, you better get going," you said to him.

He flashed a smile that melts you from the inside, "I'll see you," he said with so much hope to see you again.

"Trust me, even though he didn't say it's a date, it is a date!" Kim said through your speakerphone.

You didn't know how long you had been trying out on some outfits for today, no matter how embarrassing it was to call your friend to help you pick on an outfit to hang out with a guy, you were just that desperate.

You slumped on the couch, "I don't think it's too late to bail on him,"

"Don't you dare!!!" Kim barked, "Put that outfit on and get your ass out there," she instructed, you could imagine her saying that while rolling her eyes.

"Then what?"

"Just be you," she said, "it sounds so cliche, but he likes you way before all this, so there's nothing to worry about," she convinced you, "and I have to go because my mom needs my help in the kitchen, good luck and bye!" She quickly ended the phone call.

You entered the cafe clutching the side of your skirt out of nerves, you spotted him right away on the table you both once worked your project on.

With hesitant steps, you walked up to him as your heart beat faster and faster.

His head tilted up when he realized you were coming his way, a bright smile rose on his face.

"Hey, you came," he said as soon as you were closing into his table.

"Yes, why wouldn't I?" You said back, you fought the urge to slap your mouth for saying it.

Seungmin chuckled, he got used to you blurting out whatever was inside your head.

"I was about to text you that I have to go somewhere," he said to you when you were already seated across the table from him.

"Huh? What?" You asked him, just in case you misheard him.

"My friends insisted on going to his party, and he won't stop until I really came," he explained.

You looked down at your lap, at your choice of skirt that took you hours to pick, and said, "oh," again, failing to not sound disappointed.

"I mean, would you come with me?" Seungmin asked again, rephrasing what he was trying to say to you.

"Going to the party with you?" you asked him in disbelief.

He nodded.

It wasn't like you never heard of a party before or had never been in one, but to be seen together with him at a party was a big deal.

"We don't have to go if you don't want to," Seungmin added with a reassuring smile.

But of course, you didn't want to disappoint him, maybe it was a party of a friend that is not from the campus. You braved yourself and nodded, "it's just a party, I say let's go," you said with such coy.

Being in a car with Seungmin and seeing him driving was something you never thought you would ever witness. But here you were, sitting on the passenger's side and stealing a few glances at him as he drove with his eyes focused on the road ahead.

You let yourself look at him for a while and saw that he is wearing a blue sky shirt underneath his varsity jacket with his hair is neatly styled and parted in the middle. Your eyes lowered to where his hands gripped the steering wheel that made the veins on his hands prominent.

You looked away when he was about to look your way, you were glad he was playing music, or else, he would hear the noises you made when he was about to catch you looking at him.

Forget about staying invisible at the party, everyone recognized you the moment you got out of Seungmin’s car and got so self-conscious, you thought of fleeing the scene and start running back home.

"We don't have to stay long," Seungmin said, he sensed that you were nervous being there with him, " I'll just say hi, and we can be on our way," he added.

His words didn't quite calm you down, but something about the way he inserted the word we as if it was something as natural. We and that we mean, you and him.

You shot a thin smile at him, "I'm alright, just take your time," you convinced.

Seungmin didn't bother to introduce you to anyone since you were already well acquainted with everyone, which is a perk from having a popular friend. You ignored the curious eyes on you and went on your way, but you decided that maybe Seungmin wouldn't like having you following him around like a puppy so you let him socialize with his peers that are mostly his baseball teammates.

But when you were about to leave his side, he grabbed you by your wrist, "I want you to meet my friends," he said to you.

You blinked a few times at him, not sure if you heard him right.

Seungmin introduced you to his friends, and you shook hands with each one of them, they didn't look as bitter as you think they would, they looked alright and welcoming instead.

"Let me get you a drink," one of his friends offered.

You kindly refused him, you knew the drink was spiked with alcohol, and you are not good at drinking.

When his friend handed you a drink, someone nudged your back and sent you tripped forward, the drink sloshing all over your white blouse.

Your mouth hung open, looked down at your blouse with a red stain on it and reeked of alcohol.

"I am so sorry," his friend quickly apologized.

You slightly shook your head at him, "it's fine, I'll excuse myself to the bathroom," you said to him and quickly made your way out of sight, out of Seungmin’s sight especially.

"It's the second door on the left," he shouted the direction to you then broke into a run.

You locked the bathroom door and hoped no one would come banging on it since you would be likely staying in there for a long time, at least until you washed off the stain on your blouse. And that too, only if you succeeded washing it off.

When you saw your reflection in the mirror, you got hopeless. The night had just started yet you were already a mess, and there was no way you could get rid of the stain on your blouse, you almost broke down crying when you heard a knock on the door, “A moment, please!” you shouted to whoever behind the door.

“It’s me,”

You recognized Seungmin’s voice right away, you reluctantly opened the door, just slightly ajar, and peeked out, “Hey, I’ll be out in a moment,” you immediately told him.

He didn’t say anything but handed you his jacket through the door, “Here, use my jacket,” he told you.

You took it from him.

“I’ll wait for you here,” he said again.

You nodded, “Okay,” then closed the door.

You stared at the varsity jacket that he always wears, draped around your hand, and hesitated to wear this saintly piece of clothing.

You reminded yourself that you have no choice but to wear it, and since there was no way for you to salvage the blouse, you threw it into the trash bin. You washed your hands, wiped the sticky juice with a wet cloth then put on Seungmin’s jacket next. It was too big that you pulled the sleeves up to not let your whole arms hands engulfed by it and buttoned the jacket since you were wearing nothing but your plain white bra underneath.

You fixed your hair and fixed your make-up, it was the least you could do to look presentable. You gained your composure back and opened the door, found Seungmin leaning against the wall waiting for you.

You smiled awkwardly at him, not feeling confident in his jacket and definitely not looking as good as him in it.

Just like he could see right through your mind, he said, “It looks good on you!”

“Thanks,” you shyly muttered to him.

“Shall we go now and continue our date?” he asked.

Your heart flipped at the word date, so Kim was right, it was a date after all. You nodded at him and began following him as he parted the sea of people filling in the place, your feet were on the floor, but you felt like you were floating.

“I’m sorry that we can’t have proper dinner meals,” he said to you as the both of you sat on the cap of the car with burgers and fries you bought from the drive-thru, looking out at the city view from the top of the parking building.

You smiled at him, “it’s more than alright! I love burgers!” you said to him with such enthusiasm.

Seungmin bit into his burger, “I’m sorry about your blouse,”

You swallowed the food in your mouth, “No worries. It’s just a blouse!”

When both of you were done with the food, you stared out at the view and enjoyed the pleasant night, despite the cold air kept blowing in your way, you were glad you were wearing his jacket.

“Kim said you were a quiet kid in kindergarten,” you told him.

“I still am,” he responded with a low chuckle.

“I’m not sure about that, you are a different kind of quiet,” you said, you shoved your hands into the pockets of the jacket.

“Yeah?” he asked, “What kind of quiet?”

You hummed, “The kind of quiet that is not because you don’t have anything to say, it’s actually the opposite, you have so many things to say but decide to only say things that people could perceive,”

Seungmin got quiet because he felt like you just saw through him.

You turned your head at him, “It’s okay to talk your thoughts out, you know, who knows you might find someone that understands you,” you finished with a smile.

Seungmin intently looked into your eyes and smiled, “I think I already did,” he said.

He was slowly leaning in at you when raindrops suddenly came pouring down on you, your hands covering your head, while Seungmin grabbed your hand and took you back into the car.

He opened the backseat door, and you hurried into the car so he could get in after you, you wiped the drops of water on his jacket with your hands and from your face, afraid that it ruined your make-up.

"I didn't know that it will rain today," he said as soon as closed the car door.

"I think it's the spring rain," you crooned and hugged yourself.

When it got quiet, the limited space of the car got a lot smaller by the second and none of you wanted to break it.

Seungmin cleared his throat and broke the heightened tension, "You know, Kim and I, we're just friends," he uttered out of the blue.

You already knew that he would say something about it at one point in the evening but didn't know he would choose this moment, were you both in the car and surrounded by the pattering of the rain.

"Yeah, I know," you told him, you shoved your hands into the jacket pockets, mostly to avoid the urge to touch him since his knee is only inches away from yours.

Seungmin got quiet again and shifted on his seat, "but you did think that I like Kim?"

You stifled a nod, "I got so used to being Kim's wingman," you joked.

Seungmin scooted closer to you on the seat, "Can I tell you something?" He asked.

You turned your head at him, "yes,"

"I like you," he said with eyes unwavering, looking deep into yours, "I like you a lot," he emphasized the last word to let you know how much feeling he has for you.

You smiled at him despite the burning feeling of blurting out how you felt about him to the tiniest details, but for now, you settled with, "I like you too," you said back, "a lot,"

A smile rose on his face, ever so softly, so gently as the sun rises. He leaned in so close, and you closed your eyes, soon after, you felt the plush of his lips on you.

Your heart palpitation and hands balled into fists inside the jacket pockets when he put his hand on your jaw. He opened his mouth and captured your lips between his, brushing his lips over yours like he was savoring a cone of ice cream.

He used his tongue to pry open your mouth until you gave in yourself, opening your mouth to him with a delightful sigh.

He didn't waste any time to taste you, invading your mouth with his tongue and twirling it with yours.

The kiss was slippery and hot, his fingers wrapped around the side of your jaw while his thumb steadily pulled your mouth down to keep it open.

You reclined on the seat and let him deepen the kiss, finally braved yourself to get your hands out of your pocket and tangled them in the soft of his hair.

The sounds of the rain hitting the roof of the car drowned out the smooching sound of your kisses and the occasional sighs you let out against his lips.

He pulled away slowly, swiped his thumb over your swollen, red lips, glistening wet with a mix of his saliva and yours.

His hand traced down your neck and stopped at the base of your throat, to where the top button of your jacket rested.

You gave him a nod of permission, and he acknowledged it, he began working to open it one by one. His eyes followed to where his hand worked while you were watching his face with his mouth slightly open.

Seungmin swallowed once he was done unbuttoning your jacket, he sighed when he put his hand underneath and slowly revealed your skin inch by inch, parting the jacket open and sliding it off one shoulder.

He whimpered as his fingers trailed your collarbone and the skin under your bra strap, "you're so soft," he softly muttered.

You bit your lower lip to fight the urge to kiss him and failed, you pulled him by the collar of his shirt then crashed your lips on his.

While your lips were connected in a long, passionate kiss, Seungmin ran his hand down your chest then gripped your waist to hoist you up onto his lap.

You gasped when your mouths unattached and straddled him with your legs on each side of his, your face hovered only inches away from each other. He reclined on the seat, with his head tilted up at you. You looked into his eyes, clouded with lust and intensely staring at you.

He placed his hands on your waist, and you shuddered when his hands moved to the small of your back, roaming on the skin, and you could feel the roughness of his fingerpads.

He withdrew one hand and reached up to cup your cheek, "you're so beautiful," he said to you, swiping his thumb over your lower lip.

You smiled at his praise, shyly looked down at his chest, that even with his clothes still on, you could feel the firm of his muscles under your touch. You put your hands on his shoulders and traced the broad of his shoulders, your breath quickened since it was something you badly wanted to do.

Seungmin slowly pulled you by your chin to plant a soft kiss on your lips, a kiss that escalated things where both of your bodies pressed close together.

Your hands were in his hair while his hands were all over your body, he dragged his lips down to your neck and began kissing the thin, sensitive skin making you softly moan into his hair.

He slid the jacket down your shoulder, slipping his finger under the strap of your bra then placed a tender kiss on your collarbone.

You put your hands around his neck as he made a trail of kisses across your chest, tilting your head up and pressing your lips together to muffle your moans.

The rain has turned into a drizzle, but the window started to fog, the space inside the car shrunken by the seconds, and all you did was pull him closer and closer until there was no gap left between your bodies.

Seungmin sank his mouth on the skin between your breasts with his hands wrapped you tightly in his embrace.

When he looked up at you, you smiled at him then gave his lips a quick peck.

Seungmin lifted his head to capture your lips into a kiss again, and you softly laughed against his lips.

For a moment, you were so caught in the moment you didn't realize your phone was ringing, and you tried to ignore it, but it kept on ringing.

You winced, "I'm really sorry," you said to him, then got off of his to get your phone from inside your purse on the front seat, you quickly punched the accept call button.

"How was it? How was the date? Where did he take you?" Kim shot you questions the second you picked up the phone, you glanced at Seungmin in unease, afraid he could hear her through the phone.

"Kim, I'll call you later," you quickly replied.

"What? Why? Don't tell me you're making out right now? Holy sh-"

You abruptly ended the call and put your phone back in the car, you sat back next to him again in the backseat.

It was so quiet and dark in the car, beads of water rolling down the car window.

Seungmin took your hand in his and held it, "I'm sorry that I couldn't take you on a proper date," he said to you.

You turned your head at him, "I like it. I like the elements of surprise," you playfully commented.

"I'm glad," he said with a low laugh.

Even in the dim light, you could see his eyes crinkled as he looked at you.

"Ready to go home?" He asked.

Deep down, you just wanted to stay with him a little longer or if you could, spend as much time with him as possible yet you nodded at him, "yes," you answered.

Seungmin reached for your jacket and pulled it close, you began buttoning them yourself. Seungmin helped you fix your hair by putting strands of hair behind your ears, "you're so beautiful," he murmured, it felt nice to hear the praise again, and you could tell that it was sincere.

When you were about to say something but his lips were already got ahead of you, kissing you briefly to leave a taste of his lips before letting it go with a sweet smile.

Arrived in front of your apartment building, Seungmin parked his car in the parking lot. He immediately got out of the car to open your car door, and it took you by surprise that something like this happen to you.

Seungmin walked you to the entrance of the building but did not get in.

You turned around to face him, "thank you for today," you said to him.

He grabbed your hand and clasped it with his, "no, thank you for not running away from the date," he joked.

You laughed, "I had a great time,"

"Me too," he said back, squeezing your hand then rubbing the skin on the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Your jacket," you jolted when you remembered you were still wearing his jacket, "if you don't mind waiting, I'll change my clothes and give it to you,"

He shook his head, "you can give it back to me tomorrow,"

"Okay," you responded.

You didn't know how long you stood there facing each other, looking at each other’s eyes, and was not quite ready to part for the day.

"I should go," he said, but his feet nailed to the ground.

"Okay,"

"Okay," he said back.

You giggled at how adorable he looked, you initiated first, stood on your tiptoe, and kissed him on the mouth.

"Goodnight!" you said to him and slowly let go of his hands.

Seungmin shyly smiled then said, "Goodnight!"

You waved your hands at him before starting climbing the stairs to get to your studio, and once again felt like you were walking on clouds.

We have to talk!

Seungmin said in his text.

You knew that nothing good ever comes out of those words, and it was the first text Seungmin sent to you that day. You got fidgety in your seat during the first class, couldn't focus on whatever the lecturer was saying at the front of the class.

Is there something wrong?

You typed a reply with your phone under the desk.

Meet me in the library after class

The class will end in fifteen minutes, and your feet bounce in anxiety under the table, counting down the seconds that lead to it. All kinds of thoughts rushed through your head, and none of them helped to calm you down. Because all you think about was if Seungmin has a second thought about dating you. When the class ended, you still couldn’t decide whether you should be excited or scared.

taglist: @lolalee24 @a-hyunjinshairband

AYO THIS IS SO GOOD 😩

share you with the boys

Author's note: i tried to fulfill this ask but i got too carried away with writing the foreplay lol maybe there will be a part 2! who knows? i hope it's what you envisioned, anon! enjoy :)

Warnings: Smut. Spitting, exhibitionism, daddy kink, cliffhanger that's gonna probably make you hate me

Characters: OT8 x Reader (Chan and y/n is in a relationship but this time Chan wants to share)

Everyone’s in the living room, somehow the dance practice review that’s supposed to be at the studio changed venues to 3racha’s lair, and you can hear noises waking you up from your slumber.

Chan already told you about it last night as he pounded into you like an animal, but he didn’t mention anything about being discreet. So, now, still in your little headspace, all you wanna do is go out there and greet your Daddy.

See, you and Chan have an understanding with Changbin and Han. You’re practically the fourth tenant in their dorms, so some rules had to be presented.

It’s not that you’re messy or noisy or anything of the sorts but you and Chan just have a particular interest in letting it all go once you get to a vicinity that no outsiders can have access to.

The dorms is where you and Chan get to unwind and most importantly, indulge in you active sexual lives. But how do you do that with two other roommates being around so often?

Well, you let them watch. Or listen. Or both. Depends on how they prefer to partake on that day.

At this point, Changbin and Jisung are used to seeing Chan fuck you anywhere in the dorm. Kitchen, living room, the hallway and even in their rooms a couple of times – name it, Chan has definitely fucked you at, in and on it. And it’s only infront of Changbin and Jisung that you’ve ever referred to Chan as Daddy.

“Is Daddy still at the studio?” “I miss Daddy so much.” “Will you drag Daddy out of the studio early tomorrow? I have a surprise!”

To which they would always indulge and play along, answering, “Yup, your Daddy is still at the studio, little one. He’ll be back soon.” “Oh your Daddy misses you so much too. We saw him sporting a boner, so you better be prepared now, sweetheart.” “Of course, princess. We’ll drag him out early. We can watch too, yeah?”

Chan loves and appreciates how Changbin and Jisung dote on you. He’s been enjoying the new living arrangements, not because he doesn’t like the other boys, no. But because he knows Changbin and Jisung would not throw away the opportunity to watch you get fucked on a daily basis, to hear your moans every chance they get. So, it works.

Today’s a little different, though. He wants to share his goddess with the rest of the boys. He told you about it when he was busy pounding his cock into your tight cunt, informing you that the other boys would be coming over for the first time with you around, but he didn’t specify anything. He would have told you to be discreet but he didn’t.

So, he isn’t surprised to see you walking out of his room, face washed and hair still a little messy, still clad in his satin shirt from last night. From the looks of how your nipples are showing, you didn’t bother to wear a bra and you’re definitely not wearing pants because your legs are all bare for him to look at.

Or for all the boys to look at.

Because sweet, polite Jeongin is the one to greet you good morning yet he only got to say “Good-” when he chokes on his own word, eyes frantic, not knowing where to look because he knows he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. You’re his hyung’s girlfriend but the way your tits are clinging to the shirt is making it hard for Jeongin to think straight. And the other boys aren’t any different than Jeongin. Seungmin and Felix are looking away, pretending to monitor the dance practice video while Minho and Hyunjin horribly fail in trying not to stare at you. Jisung and Changbin are the ones blatantly staring, chirping a cheery “Good morning!”.

Chan appreciates the boys’ sensibility to not look at his sexy girl but that’s the thing. Chan wants them to look. Chan wants them to look at how pretty his girl is in his clothes. The way his shirt is too big on you but thin enough that they can still see the outline of your curves, the way your hair is still a little messy probably from the way he pulled on them the night before and the way you’re standing there, still processing if you should go back into the room and change, looking all cute and fuckable – Chan just can’t believe he’s the lucky person who gets to have you.

“Daddy’s not in bed,” is what you say, gaining the courage to openly refer to him as ‘Daddy’ in front of the other boys. And the way you say it in such a cute voice with that cute little pout? Chan can’t help but feel his cock stirring in his pants.

“Daddy has to work, princess. Why don’t you come here and join us?” he tells you, patting his lap, signalling you to come over and like the sweet, obedient little thing you are, you do.

And Chan chuckles to himself when he sees you walking in the tight space between the members who are on the floor and on the sofa. You could have walked over from the front but no, you just want to torture the boys sitting on the floor because they can probably see your cute little baby pink panties.

“What’s Daddy doing?” you ask shyly, trying to not focus on the eyes that are definitely on you, choosing to focus only on Chan, carefully sitting on his lap, making the shirt ride up a little.

Your heart is pounding from excitement. You like to show off for Chan. You like showing people how good you can be for him.

And you definitely like the attention you get from the boys right now.

“I feel like we shouldn’t be here..” Hyunjin speaks up, clearing his throat, probably ready to sprint out of the dorm.

Hearing that, you pout. You turn to Hyunjin, give him your prettiest puppy eyes and say, “I promise I won’t bother Daddy and his friends while working. Just wanna be close to Daddy.”

Needless to say, the boys are smitten. Chan’s short comment of “You guys can look all you want” definitely changed the stakes.

Now the dance practice monitoring session is long forgotten. Who can focus on that when Chan is slowly rubbing your nipples over his shirt that you’re wearing, when you’re mewling like a cute little kitten, when your hips are subtly grinding onto Chan’s thigh?

Who in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to watch this heavenly scene in front of them?

“Da-daddy.. Your work,” you try to remind him but your mind is filled with how good all this feels, having Chan touch you while his members watch. You’re used to Changbin and Jisung, but the others? It’s a whole new experience having 8 men look at you like you’re their last meal.

“But Daddy wants to take care of his princess. The boys don’t mind waiting, right boys?” Chan chuckles, amused how quiet the boys are, eyes dark as they look at your beautiful being. “Daddy needs some help though. Maybe Hyunjin can help me,” Chan speaks, calling Hyunjin towards the two of you on the sofa.

“Yeah?” Hyunjin sounds breathless and it makes you feel so shy that you have your head buried in the crook of Chan’s neck. “Don’t be shy, baby. Daddy needs you to turn around, can you do that for Daddy?”

And turn around you did. Now you’re greeted with a heavenly sight – seven boys staring at you, bulge evident and none of them care to hide their erections.

“Spit on her tits, Hyunjin. Make the shirt wet,” Chan instructs the long haired blonde so casually he nearly trips on his way near you. Seungmin and Felix who are sitting a bit further away can’t help but scoot nearer. All of them wish they were Hyunjin right now.

Hyunjin has his face near your tits and it’s taking all of your might not to arch your back into his face. You know Chan wouldn’t approve because no one can touch you but him.

The blonde man gathers his spit as he looks at Chan and you interchangeably, wanting the green light to spit. The nod from Chan and the needy look you give are all he needs to follow through, slowly letting his spit drip onto your right tit, his hands holding onto the side of the sofa, so he won’t touch you.

The sight makes you moan. And the feeling of his warm spit coming in contact with the fabric of the cold satin shirt makes you shiver, hands holding Chan’s as Hyunjin gives you some time to compute that another man just spat on your tits in front of your boyfriend and six other men.

“You like it, baby?” Chan asks, clearly loving how your nose is cutely scrunched as you try to calm down from the littlest stimulation.

“Fucking hell,” Felix curses, swallowing his own saliva as he watches how Hyunjin’s spit is leaving a drak spot that beautifully showcases your pretty nipple. Oh how he would die to just suck on it right now.

Your attention goes to Felix when Hyunjin walks back to his spot, sitting with the other boys as he stares at you. But Chan’s finger rubbing your wet nipple over the fabric grabs your attention again, making you arch your back into his touch, moaning softly when he lightly pinches it.

“My princess likes that, hmm? Like having other men’s spit on her?” Chan teases, kissing the side of your face softly. You nod absentmindedly, eyes closing as you melt into his touch, forgetting about everything else.

“Daddy, please,” you moan, you don’t even know what you’re begging for, you just need something more.

And more you got.

Now you’re spread wide on Chan’s lap, his clothed chest rubbing against your back as you try so hard not to buck your hips up while the boys take turns to spit on your pussy. You managed to stay still when the first two boys, Jeongin and Felix, did it but the way Changbin is looking at you with such confidence and the cocky smirk of his, you could just cry in wanton.

“What a pretty cunt,” Changbin says before he spits rather messily, different from how softly Jeongin and Felix did, and the way his warm spit comes in contact directly on your clit makes you shake, the unintentional bucking of your hips nearly buries Changbin into your cunt.

Chan chuckles at your little movement, knowing how hard you’re trying to be good for him.

“Daddy,” you whimper, almost crying at how difficult it is to stay still when you can feel the boys’ spit trickling from your slit.

“Shh baby. Daddy’s got you. Just need Minho, Jisung, Seungmin and Hyunjin to spit on your pretty pussy next, then Daddy will fuck you, hmm? You can do that for Daddy, yeah?” Chan speaks, voice soft and assuring, you find yourself nodding again and again, spreading your legs wider, ready for the four remaining boys to spit all they want so that you can have Chan’s cock.

Minho makes his presence known, licking his lips as he stares at your pussy and you nearly cry at the intensity.

But you really cry when your boyfriend spreads your pussy lips wide, the boys whistling and groaning as they watch intently how the mixed spit from Jeongin, Felix and Changbin get to finally find their way into your cunt.

“Maybe today the boys can touch, what do you say about that, baby?”