Yang Jeongin x Reader
Word Count: 5,098
Genre: Smut, Fluff, a hint of angst
Rating: Explicit, MINORS DNI!
Summary: Y/N goes to confession and admits her sinful desires to Father Yang, and he happily indulges them. After their first time together, however, genuine feelings begin to develop, putting Father Yang's job at risk.
Warnings: Religious themes, Priest!Jeongin, smut (unprotected sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, Reader calls Jeongin "Father" during sex, biting, slight soft dom!Jeongin, creampie, possessive Jeongin if you squint), a tiny bit of insecurity on Reader's part, getting caught having sex, Jeongin gets fired, slight parental angst. If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!
Fic is under the cut.
It started on a Sunday that seemed just like countless others. You woke up early, got dressed, and went to mass. Father Yang spoke at the front of the church just like he did every week, and you struggled to pay attention. Thoughts about his cock inside of you drowned out the homily as usual. You were ashamed of the sinful thoughts you were having, but a small part of you also enjoyed them. He was younger than most of the priests that you had previously met, much more attractive, and a much better public speaker. If he wasn’t a priest, you would have started trying to get with him ages ago. You knew that it could never be, however, so you decided to try asking for his advice during confession, hoping that he could give you guidance on how to move forward.
Father Yang caught onto your interest in him shortly after it started. He would have been lying to himself if he’d said that he didn’t find himself incredibly attracted to you. Though he knew that acting on it would be wrong, he saw no harm in admiring your beauty from afar. Seeing your smile every Sunday made him weak in the knees, and your voice was like that of an angel in his eyes.
Once service ended, you waited quietly while Father Yang spoke to various members of the congregation. Watching him take an interest in what was happening within his community always made your heart swell, and you couldn’t help but think of how attracted you were to him beyond his physical appearance. He had a beautiful soul, too, something that became increasingly obvious each time you saw him answer questions from church members with nothing but care and kindness. In all honesty, though, it made you feel even more guilty for thinking about him the way you did.
When the conversation he was having with an older member of the church ended, you quickly made your way to where he was standing. He smiled when he saw you, and the anxiety you felt in that moment made you feel like you were going to throw up. It was too late to go back now, though, so you quietly asked, “Father, when is the next time that you’ll be available for confession?”
“This coming Saturday. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I have some things that I need to confess to, and I’d like some advice about a personal matter.”
“Come see me next Saturday. I’ll be there all day, so no need to worry about a specific time.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“It’s no problem. Goodbye, (Y/N). Have a blessed day.”
“Thank you, Father. Goodbye.”
The following six days went by agonizingly slow as you waited to see Father Yang again. Your weeks always went slowly when he was the focus of most of your thoughts, but this time it was worse because of the added fear of how he would react when you finally confessed your desires. Would he try to help you, or would he be disgusted that you were having such sinful thoughts in the house of God?
When Saturday finally came, you almost chickened out. Now that the day had actually arrived, confessing to your desires felt all too real, and it was almost too much. In the end, though, you decided to go. After all, you needed to ask in order to be forgiven. That doesn’t mean you didn’t wait until the evening, though. Forgiveness was necessary, but it didn’t have to come at the expense of embarrassment if someone else at the church overheard you.
When you entered the church, you initially thought that it was empty. That’s probably why it startled you so much when Father Yang called your name. When he saw how scared you were, he apologized. You reassured him, clarifying that you were more nervous about the confession than you were frightened by the sudden noise. He responded by gently placing his hand on your shoulder and saying, “It’ll be alright, (Y/N). Whatever it is, I’m here to help. Let’s go.”
You walked into the confession booth as he entered the other side. Confession had always been terrifying for you. This time, however, you found yourself feeling the slightest bit hopeful. All you needed to do was confess your sins, and you could finally be forgiven. Father Yang started the confession by saying “You may begin whenever you are ready.”
“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” you said as you made the sign of the cross. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a month since my last confession.”
“What sins are you here to repent of?”
“I am here to confess to sins of a sexual nature. I know that it’s wrong, but I fantasize about you when I’m alone at night.”
Father Yang was silent for what felt like an eternity before he softly asked, “What?”
“Sometimes I touch myself, and I think of you when I do.”
He was silent again as he processed your words.
“It’s terrible, I know, but I can’t seem to help myself,” you continued I was wondering if you had advice that could help me stop.”
Father Yang knew exactly what he was supposed to do in this situation. He was supposed to give you a penance for the behavior and tell you some Bible verses that he thought would be helpful. Instead, however, every ounce of self-discipline he had went away, and he said, “My advice is this: Don’t.”
This time it was your turn to be surprised, softly asking, “What?”
“Don’t stop.”
“But it’s so shameful. I shouldn’t be thinking about you in that way.”
“My sweet girl, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, I think that I’d like to know more. Why don’t you touch yourself while you tell me specifically what you think about?”
“Are you sure? That doesn’t seem like a good idea. What if someone else hears?”
“There’s no one else here but us, it’s alright.”
It was exhilarating to have one of your greatest fantasies actually happen, but it was also terrifying. Still, you said, “Yes, Father,” and did exactly what you were told to do. You started by pulling down your pants and underwear. Then, you gently rubbed your clit. A small whimper escaped your mouth as you let yourself enjoy the familiar sensation.
“Tell me about your fantasies, my dear,” Father Yang instructed. “Tell me about the thoughts you have about your priest when you’re in the house of the Lord.”
“I think about your fingers inside of me when I see you make the sign of the cross,” you mumbled as you moved your hand to slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy.
“What else?”
“I think about what your cock feels like whenever I use a dildo to get off. I know it’s wrong, but it feels so good. I just can’t seem to stop myself.”
He groaned at your words, and that’s when you realized that he was touching himself on the other side of the confession booth. The thought thrilled you, and you started to move your fingers faster. You continued letting out sinful but delicious moans as you fucked yourself and thought about the effect you were having on a man of God. This was wrong, and you knew it, but you also loved every second. Especially because you got to hear how much Father Yang was enjoying himself as well.
“You have no clue what you do to me, (Y/N),” he whimpered, “Every Sunday it takes every ounce of willpower I have to not just take you in my office after mass.”
“Well why don’t you, Father?” you responded.
“Are you sure about that?”
“I’m sure. I want you to take me in any way you see fit. I wanna be yours.”
“Don’t talk like that,” he begs, “I don’t want this to be over yet.”
“Are you close, Father?”
He didn’t even get the chance to respond as he came with a strangled sob leaving his mouth. Hearing Father Yang’s orgasm brought that familiar feeling to the pit of your stomach as well, and it didn’t take long for you to come undone on the opposite side of the confession booth. As you caught your breath, you started to say, “I’m so sorry, Father. I didn’t mean–”
“My sweet girl, you have nothing to apologize for. I’ll clean the confession booth after you leave, and no one will know what happened but us.”
It took longer than you thought it would to recover from the intensity of your release, but once you did, you exited the booth to find Father Yang waiting for you. He pulled you into a hug, and you instantly felt calm. The tranquility was short lived, however, since it was replaced by excitement when he leaned closer and whispered, “Come see me after mass tomorrow, I need to feel you.”
The following day was not like any other Sunday. You still woke up early, just like before, but you dressed much nicer than you typically would for mass. It wasn’t a special occasion, so you did get a few looks from the older ladies sitting near you, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was looking pretty for your meeting with Father Yang.
You had to admit that during service, your mind wandered more than usual. Of course, you always had inappropriate thoughts during mass, but there was also the added excitement of knowing that your thoughts might soon turn into reality. To say it was difficult to be patient and focus as he spoke was an understatement. You needed him, and you needed him as soon as possible.
Once mass was over, you waited diligently for everyone to leave, despite the fact that you wanted to run to Father Yang’s office the moment he was done addressing the congregation. You waited to approach him until nearly everyone had left, though. He smiled when he saw you, and asked, “Hello, (Y/N). How are you today?”
“I’m well, Father, thank you. Would it be alright to speak to you in your office for a few minutes? I have a personal matter that I’d like your assistance with,” you replied, your voice filled with false sweetness. Father Yang knew exactly what you were doing, and he loved it.
“Of course. Just wait here for a few minutes, please. I have a few more people I still need to speak to. I’ll come find you when I’m done and show you to my office.”
“Thank you, Father.”
You sat down in a pew and waited for Father Yang to come get you. As you waited, you let your mind wander again. You wondered what would happen once you were in his office, and picturing the various possibilities only turned you on more. The thoughts were such a distraction for you that you almost didn’t notice a hand on your shoulder.
“Are you ready for our discussion, (Y/N)?” Father Yang asked.
“I’m ready.”
“If you don’t want to discuss this today, we can wait to discuss it another time. It’s also ok if you don’t want to discuss it at all.”
“I’d really like to discuss today, Father. I desperately need your advice,” you said with a smile.
Father Yang grinned at your eagerness and led you to an area of the church you had never seen before. You wondered what he did when he wasn’t offering confessions or leading services, but this was absolutely not the time to ask. You weren’t sure if you would be able to focus long enough to hold a conversation about it if you did ask, anyway, given that you were too turned on to think straight.
When you finally arrived in Father Yang’s office, the first thing he asked was, “Are you sure that you want to do this?”
“I’m sure, Father. I want you.”
“Please, (Y/N). When we’re doing this, just call me Jeongin.”
“Well, in that case, I’m sure, Jeongin. I want you.”
The moment the words left your mouth, Jeongin’s lips were on yours. It was a kiss that was full of desire, but also full of anxiety. It had been a long time since either of you had kissed anyone, and the nerves about what was about to happen were intense. That didn’t stop either of you, however.
When you pulled away for air, Jeongin asked, “Would it be ok to do more?” You nodded, and he started to gently kiss your neck. The small moans that left your lips in response were like music to his ears, and he realized that he wanted to hear them every day of his life. He even considered leaving the priesthood just so he could. He’d thought about it before, but now he had a reason to seriously think about whether he really wanted to continue on the path he'd been on for most of his adult life.
Jeongin snapped out of his thoughts when he heard you whisper, “More, please.”
“Your wish is my command, angel.” The nickname made you shiver with anticipation, and Jeongin loved it. He knew that it was a sin to do what you two were doing, but he didn’t care anymore. All he cared about was you.
You pulled up your dress just enough to remove your panties, and Jeongin removed his robes. You had to admit that he was even sexier without them. When you kissed him again, this time with less nervousness, he took the opportunity to gently insert his cock into your pussy. The kiss muffled the moans that came from both of you, but not as much as you would have liked.
Once he took a moment to adjust to how you felt around him, he started thrusting. Both of you were louder than you meant to be, and you silently hoped that none of the other church staff were still in the building. If they were, they would certainly be able to hear you. Jeongin couldn’t have cared less, however. All he could think about was how good you felt around him.
“Fuck, do you see what you do to me?” he asked. “I’m a servant of God. I’m supposed to be chaste. How does it feel to know that you’re so fucking sexy not even a vow to the Lord could keep me from you?” You only moaned in response, too overwhelmed with pleasure to speak.
For a while, the only sounds in the room were moans and skin slapping skin as Jeongin fucked you. His moans were addictive, and you loved that you were the reason behind them. A small part of you loved the fact that they were coming from a priest even more. Something about a man of God turning to sin for you worked wonders for your ego.
It didn’t take much longer for Jeongin’s orgasm to approach. With a moan, he said, “I’m close, (Y/N). What do you want me to do?”
“I want it inside, please. Fill me up. I wanna be yours.”
That was all Jeongin needed to hear to still inside of you, a string of curses and moans falling from his lips as he came. His orgasm made you desperate to reach your own, so you brought a hand to your clit and started to rub small circles around it. When he noticed, he decided to help by attaching his lips to your neck once again, biting and sucking every bit of skin he could reach. The sensation was almost too much, but it ended up being just enough for your release to hit you. Hearing you moan his name as you came was enough for Jeongin to once again consider leaving the priesthood to be with you.
Jeongin held you close as you both calmed down, and he kissed you with a combination of love and lust that made your head spin. You pulled away to catch your breath, and he said, “(Y/N), I think I love you.”
You hesitated for a moment before you said, “I love you too, Jeongin. I know that this is a sin, but in all honestly, I don’t think I care.”
“I can’t find it in me to care either. Hell, I’ve even been thinking about leaving the priesthood again just so we can actually be together.”
His words made you stop in your tracks and actually process what you’d just done. You were not only responsible for a priest breaking his vow to God, but now he was considering leaving the priesthood because of the vow that you’d helped him break. The realization brought tears to your eyes, and you said, “I’m sorry, Father. I shouldn’t have led you astray.”
“Don’t apologize, angel. You know I was thinking about leaving before we did this, right? Before what happened in the confession booth, even. I haven’t told many people this, but I never really wanted to be a priest. I was pushed into it by my parents. You’ve just given me the strength to acknowledge that this isn’t what I want.”
You only started crying louder when he said that, overwhelmed with too many emotions to count. You loved Jeongin, and you wanted to be with him, but you didn’t know if leaving the priesthood was a good idea for him. Unsure of what else could be said, you whispered, “Don’t throw away the life you have because of me, Jeongin. I’m not worth that.”
“Hey, yes you are. You are absolutely worth it. I meant it earlier when I said that I love you. I don’t want to be a priest. I want to be with you.”
You thought for a moment before you said, “As long as you swear to me that I’m not the only reason.”
“You are far from it, angel. I promise you,” he said, holding you tight as he spoke. “I don’t think I was gonna last much longer here, anyway. A lot of the older members of the congregation don’t like me much because I replaced Father Park.”
You laughed a little at his words as you relaxed into his hold. Once Jeongin was absolutely sure that you were ok, he let go just long enough to put his robes back on. As he wrapped his arms around you again, you said, “I’m really happy that we met.”
“I am too.”
“Would you like to come back to my apartment for a bit?”
He replied, “That sounds lovely,” and the two of you walked out of the church together.
The drive to your apartment was silent, except for you occasionally cursing at fellow drivers. It was kind of mean, but Jeongin couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the sudden shift in your demeanor. Just a few minutes before, you’d been incredibly sweet and gentle, telling him how much you loved him and how happy you were to have met him. Now, you were calling a driver that had cut you off a stupid prick and telling them that you hoped that their mother knew what a disappointment they were.
When you got to your apartment, however, you went right back to being the sweet girl that he knew, turning to him to say, “We’re here,” with a gentle smile on your face. The two of you got out of your car, and he followed you to your door.
Once the two of you were inside, you gave Jeongin a brief tour of your apartment, ending with your bedroom. He smiled as you showed him around your space, and he could feel himself falling for you harder. As far as he was concerned, his eternal soul could be damned. All he wanted was you, no matter how sinful the time you’d spent together so far was.
“What do you think?” you asked, plopping onto your bed.
“It’s really cozy. Can I sit?”
“Of course.”
He carefully sat next to you on your bed, and you kissed him. He kissed you back, once again adoring the feeling of your lips on his. When you finally pulled away, he smiled and said, “You are absolutely gorgeous. You know that, right?” You didn’t respond, too lost in thought to register that someone was speaking.
You would have been lying if you’d said that you weren’t concerned about the relationship that seemed to be blossoming between you and Jeongin. You wanted it to happen, and it seemed like he did too, but you couldn’t help but think about what could go wrong. What if once he left, he decided that you weren’t enough for him? What if he realized that he didn’t actually want to leave the priesthood? The idea was terrifying, and it was all that you could think about.
You didn’t even notice that a few stray tears had started to fall until you felt Jeongin’s hand on your face wiping them away. You jumped, startled by the sudden touch. He felt bad for startling you, but he couldn’t just let you cry. Pulling you close, he asked, “What’s wrong, angel?” You only started to cry harder, too overwhelmed by the emotions swirling around your brain to speak. Seeing you so upset broke Jeongin’s heart, but he didn’t really know how to help you. So, he slowly rubbed your back, whispering sweet nothings until the tears stopped.
When you were calm enough to talk again, you just said, “I’m really worried.”
“What’s got you worried, angel?”
“What if you realize that this isn’t actually what you want?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“What if you leave the priesthood and realize that it wasn’t actually what you wanted to do?”
“Sweetheart, I promise you that’s not going to happen. I don’t know if you remember me saying this when we were still at the church, but I was already considering it before I even realized I was attracted to you. I was pushed into this life by my parents. It was never what I actually wanted to do with my life. The only thing that you did was give me the strength to live my life the way I want to instead of how someone else wants me to.” Jeongin’s words did make you feel a bit better, but the doubt still gnawed at you.
Desperate to think about anything else, you said, “Tell me about your life before you were a priest.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I wanna know everything that you’re willing to tell me.”
“Well, I grew up with two brothers. One is older, one is younger.”
“Do you get along with them?”
“Mostly. We fight sometimes, but I think that’s normal for siblings.”
“What about your parents? Do you have a good relationship with them?”
Jeongin let out a long sigh and said, “I’d like to think so, but sometimes they do make things difficult.”
You wanted to ask him what he meant, but you had a feeling that it was a touchy subject. So, you left it alone, instead listening to the stories that he told you about his childhood and teenage years. Your favorite story that he told you was about the period as a child that he took piano lessons. It wasn’t necessarily the story itself that made you so happy, though. It was more the light in Jeongin’s eyes as he told it. He seemed to have a real passion for music, and as he spoke, you found yourself desperately wanting to help him develop that passion.
Hours passed as the two of you talked about anything and everything that you could think of. As the two of you talked, Jeongin was fascinated by everything that you shared with him, from stories of your time in marching band as a teenager to the summer that you spent learning how to knit. If anyone else had taken the time to explain to him the difference between the garter stitch and the stockinette stitch, he probably wouldn’t have cared at all. Because you were the one explaining it, however, he found himself hanging on to every word.
As much as you loved spending time with Jeongin, you knew eventually your time together had to end. The time came for you to take him home when he told you that he had some business to attend to before the end of the day. As you drove, an awkward silence filled the car once again. Both of you wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence, but neither of you quite knew what to say.
Watching Jeongin walk back into the church once you dropped him off filled you with a sense of dread. All you wanted was to beg him to stay with you. He had a job to do, though, and you knew that, so you kept your composure until you got home.
For a few weeks, nothing else happened between you and Jeongin. You were disappointed that you hadn’t really seen him, but you also trusted that he would make time for you as soon as he could. You couldn’t help but wonder when that would be, though. On a random Sunday, however, you got your answer. Before service, Jeongin came up to you and asked, “Could I come back to your apartment with you after mass?”
“Of course, Father Yang. Is everything ok?”
“Yes, everything is fine. I’ll explain when I see you later,” he answered.
After he walked away, you found your seat and waited for mass to begin. As you took in the scene around you, you noticed that a few of the older women that sat near you were giving you dirty looks. You brushed them off, however, assuming they were simply judging the dress you wore to church. If you only knew just how wrong you were.
For the most part, the service was completely normal. As announcements began, however, a feeling of dread filled your stomach. There was no reason for alarm bells to start going off in your brain, really. There was just this feeling that something major would happen, and everything would change. You were proven right when Father Yang said, “I want to conclude this week’s announcements by informing you all that this will be my last service as your priest. It has been an honor to serve this community for as long as I have, but for personal reasons, I need to move on. Starting next week, I will be replaced by Father Lee Minho. He’s a good man, and I’m certain that he will lead you all in the right direction in your walks with God.”
“Shock” was nowhere near a strong enough word to describe what you were feeling. You were appalled that Jeongin was really throwing the life he had away. You also wondered what had happened to make it happen so quickly. You still remembered when Jeongin replaced Father Park, and Jeongin didn’t actually start for months after you started to hear the rumors that Father Park was retiring. Either something happened that sped up the process, or the process began long before you knew about it. As you remembered the dirty looks you’d gotten before mass started, you realized it was probably the former.
Mass ended, and you waited for Jeongin outside of the cathedral. You didn’t have to wait long, though, before you heard him say, “I’m so sorry about this.”
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for, Father.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m done with that life now.”
“Ok, then there’s nothing for you to apologize for, Jeongin.”
“I do need to apologize, but I’d like to talk more about that in the car if that’s ok.”
“Of course.”
The two of you walked to your car in silence, but once the two of you were in your car, Jeongin took a deep breath and started to explain.
“So, apparently we weren’t alone in the building a few weeks ago. A few of the older ladies were still in the sanctuary, and when one of them saw the two of us go to my office, she followed us. She heard everything.”
You were silent for a few minutes while you processed his words and thought about what to say in response. With a deep breath, you said, “I am so sorry, Jeongin. I didn’t mean for you to lose your job.”
“I knew it was only a matter of time, honestly. She called the bishop and told him what she’d heard, and a meeting was set up. At the meeting, I was told to either go to confession or leave. I chose to leave, and Father Lee was chosen as my replacement.” The rest of the ride was silent as you thought about what Jeongin had told you. When you pulled into your driveway, however, he added, “I hope you know that you aren’t the only reason I chose to leave.”
“I know, but I can’t help but feel guilty that it played out this way.”
“There’s nothing to feel guilty for, dear. I appreciate that you’ve been there for me while I figured this out.”
“I’ll always be here for you. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said before softly kissing you.
The two of you went into your apartment, and you discussed what Jeongin’s plan was now that he was no longer a priest. To start, you asked, “Would you like to stay here until you get on your feet?”
Jeongin hesitated before he replied, “I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you. I have no clue how long it will take me to find another job.”
“You wouldn’t be a burden. I promise.”
With a sigh, Jeongin said, “Ok. Thank you so much. For everything.” Sure, he was still concerned, but he had to admit that he was excited to spend more time with you.
The next day, Jeongin called Father Lee to schedule a time to get his belongings from his former church-provided lodging, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell with pride as the fact that he was finally living his life the way he wanted to. When the agreed-upon time came, you went with him and helped him to load his things into your car. Then, you drove him back to your newly shared apartment as the two of you enjoyed each other’s company and wondered what the next chapter of your lives had in store.
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Seungmin x reader. (f,a) SFW
Synopsis: At first, you knew Seungmin as the guy you made out with on a flight home but once the plane landed, you discovered that he's the son of your father's rival candidate for the upcoming election, causing you to be caught between love and loyalty. (10,9k words)
Some people might call it fate, serendipity, or kismet, but you're not the type to believe in romantic clichés like that, so let's just call it a coincidence.
It's merely a coincidence that the car got a flat tire on the way to the airport, causing you to miss the flight you were supposed to be on. Otherwise, you would have been sitting in seat 4B on a completely different plane next to a completely different passenger in seat 4A.
As you make your way to your seat, you notice him immediately. A young man sitting in the window seat next to yours, he possesses a rare, gentlemanly beauty. With refined features, a charming smile, and tousled dark hair, he exudes a sophisticated appeal. In other words, he’s the kind of guy who instantly catches your eye.
He glances up as you stow your bag in the overhead compartment, offering a polite nod. You take your seat next to him, trying to keep your cool even though your heart skips a beat.
There’s something about him that draws you in, something magnetic—a quiet confidence that doesn’t need to be loud or showy to be felt.
After you settle in and the plane takes off, you feel the urge to talk to him. You're usually not the type to strike up conversations with strangers, but for some reason, with him, you can't help it. Also, you realize that if you want something to happen, you have to start somewhere.
“Is this your first time flying out of here?” you ask, turning to him with a smile.
He looks at you, his lips curving into a small smile. “No, I’ve been here before, but it’s been a while," he answers, his voice smooth and calm, making something flutter in your chest.
You introduce yourself to break the ice and make interacting easier.
"Seungmin," he says, taking your hand and holding it for a moment as he introduces himself. "Traveling alone?"
"Yes," you answer innocently.
"Business or pleasure?" he asks, a playful glint in his warm brown eyes.
You stare into his eyes and faintly bite your lower lip before answering, "Hopefully, pleasure."
From there, the conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about everything—from favorite travel destinations to the books you're reading. Something about Seungmin makes it feel so natural, and before you know it, two hours have passed in the blink of an eye.
“I can’t believe we’ve been talking for hours,” you say with a low laugh, glancing out the window at the darkened sky.
The Atlantic stretches endlessly below, and the flight attendants have dimmed the cabin lights, casting a soft, intimate glow over the rows of seats.
“Time flies when the company’s good,” he says, his eyes lingering on you in a way that makes your heart race.
The space between you feels charged now, the conversation slowing as the connection deepens into something more. You can feel the pull—the undeniable attraction that’s been simmering since you sat down. Then you catch him glancing at your lips, and you know he feels it too.
Daringly, you lean in slightly, testing the waters, and he responds by shifting closer. The air between you is electric, and when his hand brushes yours, a spark shoots through you.
Both of you hesitate for a moment, caught in that intoxicating space where everything hangs in the balance until neither of you can resist any longer.
Your lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss, and the world outside the window seems to fall away. His kiss is gentle at first, cautious, testing, but when you respond, he takes it as permission to deepen it. He rests his hand on your cheek, and warmth spreads through you as his lips move against yours in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, making you forget you’re on a plane surrounded by strangers.
For those few moments, it's just you and him, lost in each other, the quiet hum of the plane fading into the background.
When you finally pull apart, breathless and dazed, you exchange a look that says everything. This isn't just some fleeting attraction. There’s something real here, something undeniable.
However, once the plane touches down and the cabin lights flicker back to life, reality begins to creep in. It's the altitude, the change in air, and the fact that you now have both feet on the ground. The intimacy of your shared moments with Seungmin starts to fade as you both prepare to disembark.
Everyone stands from their seats to gather their things, and you can feel Seungmin watching as you reach for your bag in the overhead compartment.
"So…" Seungmin begins as you both shuffle out of the row and into the aisle. "Can I get your number? Or at least, a last name?"
Your heart is still fluttering from the kiss you shared just hours ago, but you hesitate. There’s an inexplicable tug in your gut telling you not to give in so easily, to be cautious. You like him—really like him—but you're not going to make it that easy.
You flash him a playful smile. “Hmm... I’m not sure I should make it that easy for you,” you tease, shifting your bag onto your shoulder.
Seungmin raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smile. “You’re going to make me work for it?”
You nonchalantly shrug, trying to keep things light despite your racing heart. “Let’s just say I like a challenge.”
As you walk together through the terminal, the chemistry between you still crackling, you step outside and notice a car waiting at the curb. The driver, standing beside it, is holding a sign with Seungmin’s name. At first, nothing seems out of the ordinary, until you notice his jacket. The driver is wearing a dark blazer, but pinned to it is a familiar emblem—the logo of a political campaign.
Not just any campaign. It's your father’s rival’s campaign.
Your smile falters as you look more closely, and your heart drops when something clicks. You turn to Seungmin, your mind racing.
“Is that your driver?” your voice comes out sharper than you intended.
Seungmin follows your gaze, looking a bit confused. “Yeah. Why?”
Your throat suddenly feels dry. You clear it before asking the big question. “Are you from the Kim family? The same Kim family running for governor?”
"Yes," Seungmin answers, clearly puzzled.
The Kim family. The Kim family. Your father’s bitter rival in the upcoming election. This isn’t just some random guy you met on a plane—he's the son of the man your father has been railing against for weeks. You feel the blood drain from your face as the realization crashes down.
Seungmin’s expression shifts from confusion to concern. “What’s wrong?”
You unconsciously take a step back. "You’re... you’re a Kim," you say, still in disbelief.
Seungmin opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. "Your father and mine—they’re both running for governor."
For a moment, Seungmin seems to be processing what you’ve said. Then his face hardens slightly in understanding. You take another step back, the weight of everything pressing down on you.
“This changes everything,” you whisper.
He looks at you, his eyes searching. “No, it doesn’t have to," he says.
If only he knew how badly you wanted to believe him. But you can’t ignore the reality of the situation. Both of your families are in a brutal political war, and no matter how much you like him, getting involved with Seungmin could blow everything up—for both of you.
"How is it not? Your father accused mine of siphoning money from the city’s budget for his campaign."
"Because he did!" Seungmin says boldly.
"There’s no concrete proof!" you counter.
"Of course, because they know how to make things disappear. Your family is known for their generosity with hush money," he remarks bluntly.
You’ve never been one to argue about things that aren’t your business, but when it comes to your family, you naturally defend them.
"As opposed to your father’s blatant hypocrisy," you calmly reply. "He’s fighting the climate crisis, but his wife keeps taking private jets for her shopping trips."
You come up with a concrete data point. "According to the data, those trips contributed 58 metric tons of carbon—the same amount emitted by 4,625 cars in a day."
That seems to shut him up. His jaw clenches, and it's unfair how good he looks when he's mad.
The driver awkwardly clears his throat, glancing between you both. “Sir, we should get going. Your father’s waiting.”
"It was good to see you," Seungmin says before storming off, childishly bumping your shoulder as he passes.
"Goodbye, I guess," you mutter, scoffing in disbelief as you watch him walk away.
That concludes everything, officially making it an unpleasant coincidence.
-
It was just a coincidence!
That's what Seungmin has been telling himself after spending days wrestling with his feelings, convincing himself that it doesn’t matter, that you are just a fleeting moment, a passing fancy. But the truth is undeniable: no matter how much he tries to push you out of his mind, he just can’t stop thinking about you.
When his friend mentioned that you’re living separately from your family, something shifted inside him. The tension between your families has always been an obstacle, a reason to stay away, but now it seems more like an excuse. If anything, the fact that you aren’t on good terms with your family only deepens his curiosity—and somehow, his feelings.
Seungmin hadn’t planned to find your hotel room, but once he knew where you were staying, he couldn’t help himself. And now, as he stands there, waiting for you to open the door, his heart races in anticipation despite the cool facade he tries to maintain.
After a moment, the door creaks open, and there you are—your hair slightly tousled, your expression showing slight shock to see him there. His heart leaps at the sight of you, but instead of the warmth or excitement he hoped to see, your face remains cold, indifferent.
“Are you stalking me?” your voice is cool, a little too casual, as if you haven’t been thinking about him at all.
There's no going back now, so Seungmin pushes forward. "Well, you're not that hard to track."
You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms in front of you defensively. “You shouldn’t be here,” you say flatly.
Seungmin notices the flicker in your eyes, something you’re trying to hide. He takes a small step closer, his gaze softening, and playfully says, “Maybe."
You stare at him for a moment, your expression hard, but he sees the hesitation in the way your fingers grip the edge of the door. You’re fighting something, trying to keep a wall between the two of you. He understands why you keep your guard up so high—you’re trying to protect yourself, your heart, and maybe even protect him from the mess that is your life right now.
“You shouldn’t be... with me,” you make it even clearer, but even as you say the words, your voice wavers.
Seungmin takes another step forward, placing his hand near where yours rests. “Let me in, and we'll find out."
Your eyes soften for a brief moment before you quickly look away, the conflict clear in your expression. It’s obvious that you want to shut the door, to push him away, but something is holding you back. Maybe it's the same thing that brought him here in the first place—the connection, the spark between you that refuses to be ignored.
The conflict in your eyes only encourages Seungmin. He leans against the doorframe, his eyes never leaving yours. "Why are you staying in a hotel anyway?" he asks, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity.
You remain aloof, folding your arms across your chest as you raise an eyebrow. “Why should I let my enemy know?"
The coldness in your tone is deliberate, a shield to guard against him, against what you’re really feeling. But he doesn’t back down; his smirk only grows wider.
His hand inches closer to yours as he leans in just a bit closer, making his presence suddenly more overwhelming.
“See, that’s the thing..." his voice drops lower, with a teasing edge.
“What?” you ask, trying to keep your cool even though the proximity makes your heart race.
“We’re enemies,” he states the obvious, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity that it sends a shiver down your spine.
You let out a sigh, already prepared for whatever line he’s about to throw at you. “And what’s your point?”
Seungmin’s smirk deepens as he leans in even closer, his face now mere inches away from yours. His voice is low and soft, almost a whisper, but filled with mischief.
“Sleeping with the enemy is hot.”
Your breath hitches slightly, but you keep your expression in check, refusing to let him see just how much his words affect you. You tilt your head a little to the side, raising an eyebrow, but the corner of your mouth betrays you with the slightest hint of a smile.
“Is that so?” you respond with a daring smirk.
Seungmin lets out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering with something dangerous and alluring, like he knows exactly how this game is going to end.
As you stand there weighing your options, the tension between you and him becomes unbearable. You can feel the electricity crackling in the air, and despite everything, you find yourself taking a step back, opening the door wider without saying a word.
Seungmin’s triumphant smile tells you that he understands your silent invitation. Without wasting another second, he steps inside, the door closing softly behind him as the world outside fades away.
Before you can even catch your breath, he’s on you—his lips crash against yours with a force that makes you dizzy. The kiss is urgent, an explosion of passion and frustration that has been building between you and him for so long.
His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as if the mere touch of your skin isn’t enough to satisfy the hunger between you.
All the walls you’ve built, all the reasons you shouldn’t be doing this, crumble in an instant. It doesn’t matter that he’s your enemy. Right now, all that matters is the way his lips brush against yours, the way his breath mingles with yours, the way your hearts seem to beat in sync.
In that moment, nothing else exists but the two of you.
-
It’s Seungmin’s third time staying over in your hotel room this week alone, and no, you're not complaining at all. You've already grown accustomed to him—Seungmin is part of your routine now, part of your life, and his absence leaves you feeling restless.
When you're not with him, you recall what he’s done to you: the way he kissed you, caressed you, all the things he's said. Your hand unconsciously flies down to your thigh, wishing he was touching you right now.
But don’t get it wrong—the non-bedroom side of Seungmin appeals to you just as much as the lover side, if not more. He makes you laugh, and he listens to you, even when what you talk about isn’t particularly interesting. He’s comfortable around you, and that makes you comfortable around him. You like how he fills the empty space in the bed, and you also like just lying with him in a comfortable silence that doesn’t beg for questions.
However, tonight is an exception.
As you lie on the bed with Seungmin, still recovering from the passionate lovemaking you shared earlier, you feel the weight of reality slowly creeping back in. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it feels heavy, as if there are things that need to be said.
You roll over slightly to face him and place your hand on his arm, fingers gently tracing the veins coiling down his inner arm. “I need to tell you something,” you murmur.
Seungmin turns his head to look at you, his gaze soft but curious. “What is it?”
You inhale deeply as you gather your thoughts, looking into his eyes as you begin with the one thing you're sure of.
“I really like you, Seungmin.”
“I know,” he says confidently, one corner of his mouth curling into a half-smirk.
You bring your hand up to cup his chin, gently scratching his jaw with your fingertips as you flash him a soft smile and continue speaking.
“What you don’t know is that my family isn’t speaking to me right now, and that’s something I’d like to change.”
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” he says earnestly, softly caressing your cheek.
“My family used to control me—I’m sure you know what that’s like. I rebelled, took off, and a year into it, I found out my younger sister was going through something, and I wasn’t there for her because I was trying to prove some... stupid point,” you explain with a dry chuckle.
His gaze remains steady as he listens to you without interrupting.
“I’m just trying to find my way back in, and I happened to bump into you along the way.”
“And I’m glad you did,” he says, catching your other hand in his and resting it on his chest.
You hold his chin, wanting all of his attention focused on you, because what you're about to say is the most important part of this conversation.
“Being seen with you would send the wrong message, and I really can’t risk making my family more upset right now.”
Seungmin’s eyes soften, and without the slightest hesitation, he nods in agreement. “I understand,” he says calmly.
“Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at secret relationships,” he adds with a playful smirk. “And all the sneaking around... it’s kind of thrilling. I find it really hot.”
You let out a soft laugh, suddenly feeling at ease. “Of course you do.”
Seungmin pulls you closer, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face before placing a chaste kiss on your lips.
“We’ll keep it a secret, but I want you to know that it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
As Seungmin presses a tender kiss to your forehead, you feel the warmth and reassurance sinking in. For now, the secret doesn’t feel like a burden—it feels like a shared world that belongs only to the two of you.
-
In under a month, Seungmin learned a lot about you.
You live by routine: you get up at the same time every day, shower, and then your breakfast usually consists of a cup of black coffee and French toast. You share a kiss before parting ways, as you get picked up at the entrance of the hotel while Seungmin makes his getaway through the hotel kitchen exit.
During the day, you help your father with his campaign at headquarters, and you're back to your hotel room around 8 or 9 when you have dinner with your family.
As for your evenings, they belong to Seungmin. When the two of you aren’t fooling around like teenagers, you fill the time with late-night snacks, talking about random things, or just cuddling on the bed—things that Seungmin has never experienced with anyone before.
Day by day, he wants more of you, not less.
Tonight, you both decide to pass the time by watching something on pay-per-view. You rest your head against his shoulder while your eyes are on the large screen mounted on the wall. At times, Seungmin places a kiss on you, and it feels good having you near, as if he was made to be your lover.
From time to time, you react to certain scenes in the film, your bare legs shifting beneath the hem of your nightdress.
“Are you wearing underwear?” he jokingly asks into your ear.
You laugh, teasing him with your playful smile. The night continues with soft moments like these—gentle touches, soft kisses, and quiet laughter.
By the time the movie credits roll, you both realize the film played in the background while the two of you were wrapped up in each other. At the end of the night, you climb into bed, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, enveloping him with your warmth.
Seungmin brushes stray hair away from your face and trails his fingertips over the smooth curve of your lips before placing a gentle kiss with tenderness mixed with a sense of possessiveness.
“Goodnight,” he mutters softly as he breaks the kiss.
The next morning, he finds you wearing his shirt—the one from the very first night he spent with you. He doesn’t know how to describe the feeling that rushes through him seeing you in his clothes, knowing you kept his shirt and have been wearing it. All he knows is that it feels good.
Truthfully, he’s been feeling like this a lot lately—every time you smile, ask for a kiss, or cross the room just to be near him, but also when the two of you aren’t together. He has spent the past few weeks in a euphoric high, grinning for no other reason than thinking of you.
There’s no doubt about it—Seungmin is stupid in love.
-
The fundraiser party is in full swing, the lights casting a warm, polished glow over the room as it's buzzing with conversations and the clinking of glasses. You stand beside your father, perfectly poised, playing the part of the dutiful daughter.
This night isn’t about you—it’s about him. Every charming smile, every polite nod you give is an extension of the image he wants to project: a perfect family, a perfect father. But you know the truth.
As you watch your father work the room, shaking hands and making connections, you know your role is to boost his image—not because he cares about you, but because you are part of his political strategy. Still, this is your chance to prove yourself, to show him you can be the daughter he wants, even if the real connection is long gone.
Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Seungmin and his brother-in-law approaching. Your heart skips a beat, but you hurriedly calm yourself down, knowing this isn’t the time for emotions—it’s the time for control.
Seungmin and his brother-in-law stop in front of you and your father. Seungmin’s gaze briefly meets yours for a second, and despite the public setting, the intensity of that look sends a small thrill through you.
“Good evening,” Seungmin’s brother-in-law says politely and formally. “We’re here representing our father tonight, and he sends his regards.”
Your father, ever the politician, gives a thin, practiced smile. “Ah, yes, it’s unfortunate he couldn’t attend himself. I suppose running a campaign must keep him quite busy.”
There’s a subtle edge to his words, a slight sneer that isn’t lost on you or anyone, but fortunately, Seungmin and his brother-in-law remain composed, not rising to the bait.
“Of course,” Seungmin replies calmly. “He’s doing everything he can for the campaign.”
Your father’s gaze shifts to Seungmin, sizing him up before his eyes narrow in curiosity. "Seungmin, isn’t it? I’ve heard good things about you. You’ve been quite the asset to your father’s campaign, haven’t you?”
“Oh, please. I’m just doing the best I can to help,” Seungmin humbly replies, perfectly nailing the model son role.
“It’s refreshing to see someone so dedicated to their family’s success. We could all learn from that, couldn’t we?” your father says, glancing at you, making it clear that his praise for Seungmin is a thinly veiled comparison.
You keep your composure, your smile unwavering, even as a knot of discomfort forms in your stomach. You entertain yourself with the thought that your father has no idea what is really going on—that the very man he is praising is the one you are secretly seeing. The joke is on him.
“Have you met my daughter?" your father asks, gesturing toward you as if you haven’t been standing there the whole time.
Seungmin turns to you, his expression steady, but his eyes flicker with something only you can recognize. He holds out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” you reply, keeping your smile polite. You have to continue acting as if nothing has ever happened between you and him.
Hours pass as you mingle with other guests, but the pressure of keeping up appearances starts to weigh on you. Toward the end of the party, when most of the guests are distracted, you slip away, catching Seungmin’s eye as you do. He follows discreetly, and soon you find yourselves in an isolated part of the building, the muffled sounds of the party still audible.
The moment he comes into sight, you let out a sigh of relief, allowing yourself to drop the mask you’ve worn all night.
"I missed you," he whispers as he steps closer. Before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours, the kiss filled with longing and the tension that has been building up since your last secret meeting.
"I missed you too," you murmur between kisses.
In the dimly lit, secluded hallway, you and Seungmin find a rare moment of peace. His hands cup your face, his lips moving urgently against yours, pouring all the longing and frustration of the past few days into every kiss.
It is reckless, but being with him feels too good to resist. In fact, it feels so good that you almost forget the dark shadow that has been hanging over your mind. Almost.
"My mom found out about us," you blurt out after breaking the kiss.
Seungmin freezes, his lips barely an inch from yours, his brows furrowing as he processes what you’ve just said. "Wait... what?"
“I guess we didn’t fool the doorman,” you say with a heavy sigh as the gravity of the situation sinks in.
For a moment, Seungmin just stands there, panic rising in his chest. If your mom knows, it won’t be long before both of your families find out, and he knows exactly what that would mean for both of you—and for his father’s campaign.
“So... you told her the truth?” he asks, focusing on the possibility that your mom might indirectly support this relationship.
“Obviously, I didn’t want to risk everything with my family for some fling that wasn’t going to last,” you reply meekly.
Seungmin blinks, then his lips curl into a teasing smile. "Oh, so it isn’t just some fling?”
“Seungmin, I’m serious!" you whine in frustration, giving him a playful slap on the chest.
"You can’t keep sneaking into the hotel anymore. It’s too risky, and if my father finds out...” You can’t even finish your sentence without feeling sick to your stomach.
Seungmin’s smile fades as he realizes the danger you are both in. It feels as if the walls are closing in on both sides, and it won’t be long before someone else notices the two of you together. His mind races, trying to think of a solution, somewhere you can be together without the prying eyes of your families.
Just as he opens his mouth to say something, a voice interrupts, and both of you stiffen.
“Seungmin?”
His brother-in-law is standing a few feet away, his eyes narrowing as he glances between the two of you, catching sight of Seungmin’s hand still holding yours.
None of you speak, and in that moment, it feels like the quiet before a storm about to break.
-
Seungmin’s brother-in-law has always been sharp, and tonight is no exception. As you and Seungmin slipped out of the party, thinking you were being discreet, he spotted the two of you. From the moment you met, he sensed something was already there. He observed further, noticing the sneaky glances, the looks that said more than words, and the way you interacted with each other. He must admit, both of you are poor actors.
When his brother-in-law corners the two of you in the hallway, Seungmin braces himself, expecting him to spill everything to his father immediately, knowing what he could gain from it.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Seungmin asks, suspicion creeping in. He knows his brother-in-law has always been loyal to the family, especially to his father, so this calm, nonchalant reaction doesn’t add up.
Instead, his brother-in-law glances between you both with a knowing smile and says, "You two are playing a dangerous game, but you know what? I won’t stand in your way."
That doesn't make Seungmin relax. If anything, the words make him more cautious. "And why’s that? Why are you suddenly on my side?”
“Seungmin, I already think of you like my own brother,” his brother-in-law replies simply, with enough sincerity to convince anyone who hears him. “I want you to be happy."
Seungmin remains quiet for a moment, still wary, but realizing he has little choice. Whatever his brother-in-law’s motives are, this is the only lifeline he has right now.
“So, what’s the plan?” Seungmin finally asks, keeping his voice steady.
“I have a boat. It’s docked not far from here. No one checks it, no one comes by." His brother-in-law reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small set of keys, handing them to Seungmin. "You two can stay there, alone, as long as you need."
Seungmin’s gaze flicks from the keys to his brother-in-law’s face, still unsure if he can fully trust him. But this is the best option you both have right now. He decides to take a leap of faith and takes the keys from him.
"It's docked on the west side, slip twenty-three," his brother-in-law informs him. Before Seungmin can say anything else, he adds, “Oh, you may want to check the first aid kit on the boat.”
Seungmin’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “What for?”
His brother-in-law puts on a mischievous grin. “Let’s just say you’ll find some essentials in there."
Seungmin’s suspicion deepens, but he doesn’t question it further. Maybe his brother-in-law is being sincere, so Seungmin stops overthinking it. On a more important note, you both need a place to hide, and this is as good as it’s going to get. He glances over at you, and with a silent agreement, you both know you have to take this opportunity, no matter the risks.
“Thanks,” Seungmin mutters, cautious but grateful. “I appreciate it.”
His brother-in-law pats him on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring nod. “Just be careful,” he says.
With that, you and Seungmin slip away into the night, heading toward the boat where, for at least one night, you can finally be alone.
-
The boat is bigger than you thought it would be, bobbing gently in the moonlit water. As you step onto the deck, you feel a sense of freedom, as if, for once, the outside world can’t reach you. You settle into the small but comfortable space, the tension between you fading into something softer, more tender.
When it’s just the two of you, you can finally let your guard down and be your authentic self. You walk up to him and slip into his arms for a warm embrace.
"It's just you and me now," you say, resting your forehead against him.
"Just you and me," he repeats, gently tilting your head with his hand on your chin, and places the gentlest kiss, treating you like a fragile piece of art.
Seungmin leads you through the cabin, the scent of saltwater and wood lingering in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of the sea breeze drifting in from the open hatch.
“This is nice,” you comment, running your fingers along the edge of a worn leather couch. “But do you think your brother-in-law keeps any food around? I’m starving.”
He lets out a soft chuckle and makes his way to the small kitchenette, opening the fridge with a creak. “Looks like frozen pizza is on the menu,” he says, pulling out the pack and showing it to you.
As Seungmin prepares the frozen pizza and tosses it into the microwave, you head to the bedroom to find something comfortable to wear. In the bathroom, you find a soft bathrobe neatly folded on the top shelf. Without a second thought, you change out of your dress and into the robe. As you tie the belt around your waist, you sigh in relief, feeling a great sense of comfort.
By the time you return, Seungmin is plating the pizza, the smell filling the small cabin. He has also found a bottle of champagne in the cabinet, the label a little worn and the drink lukewarm. Both of you eat in comfortable silence, exchanging small smiles between bites, enjoying this rare moment of normalcy.
When the food is all gone, you lean back in your seat with a contented sigh. The dinner is simple, yet it feels more special than any you’ve had before.
Being the neat person he is, Seungmin wastes no time cleaning up after dinner.
“You can clean up later,” you tell him, sipping your warm champagne.
“There’s not much to clean anyway,” he replies, taking the dirty plates back into the cabin.
Remembering what Seungmin’s brother-in-law said before you left, you decide to go on a little hunt for the first-aid kit he mentioned and see what’s inside. It doesn’t take long to find it tucked away in one of the cabinets in the control room. As you open it, you blink in surprise.
“Well, well…” you murmur, pulling out a small Ziploc bag among the usual bandages and ointments.
Seungmin raises an eyebrow when you bring it over and show him. He shakes his head, already deciding it’s a bad idea.
You shrug, holding the pack out to him with a playful smile. “Why not? Let’s live a little.”
“We shouldn’t even be touching his things,” he says, leaning back on the sun lounger.
“What are you talking about? We’ve just eaten his frozen pizza and drunk his champagne,” you remind him, settling onto his lap.
“I can buy those things back for him,” he replies, folding his hands behind his head.
“But he mentioned it, so that means he’s fine with it, right?”
He shakes his head, eyes closed, unwilling to hear more persuasion.
“Come on,” you urge, taking a rolled blunt out of the bag and rolling it between your fingers. “Just one. It’s a special night, isn’t it?”
He opens his eyes and finds himself unable to resist you when you smile so sweetly. He reaches for the blunt.
“Alright, fine," he gives in, "but just one.”
You light it and take a slow drag, letting the smoke curl lazily into the air before handing it over to him. His fingers brush against yours as he inhales, and you watch as his shoulders visibly relax.
The two of you take turns smoking, the night enveloping you in a peaceful cocoon. The quiet of the water, the gentle sway of the boat, and the faint glow of stars above make everything feel far away, as if the world and its complications couldn’t touch you here.
“I could get used to this,” you softly mutter, your voice barely louder than a whisper as you nuzzle into Seungmin’s side, sharing the sun lounger with him, the blunt hanging loosely between your fingers.
Seungmin exhales long and slow, his arm coming around your shoulders to pull you close. “Yeah, me too.”
The smoke, the sea, and the quiet lull you into a different kind of peace—an escape from everything, if only for tonight.
With one last drag, you finish the rest of the blunt yourself. You rest your head on Seungmin’s shoulder, your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath. For once, you don’t feel like you’re running away from something.
“I wish it could always be like this,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. “I feel happiest when it’s just us, alone like this.”
Seungmin shifts slightly, his arm tightening around you as if he wants to hold onto this moment forever. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, and your heart flutters in response. He doesn’t say anything at first, just holds you closer, and you wonder if he feels the same way—that the world outside seems so distant when it’s just the two of you.
“I feel it too,” he finally says. “When it’s just us… it feels like everything makes sense. Like we’re the only two people in the world that matter.”
His words make your heart ache with a bittersweet warmth. In a moment like this, it’s easy to forget about the chaos waiting for you back home.
Here, it’s just you and him.
You stare at him, your faces merely inches apart. The moonlight casts a soft glow across his features, and God, he’s just so beautiful. His eyes meet yours, and the longer you look into them, the more you see the depth of his feelings. There’s something tender, something vulnerable—you’ve never seen him look at you like this before.
Seungmin swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he’s gathering courage. Then, in a soft yet steady voice, he says, “I love you.”
The words hang in the air, suspended between you, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. He’s never said it before, and hearing those words now, spoken under the starry sky with the waves lapping gently against the boat, it feels… magical.
“I love you,” he repeats, his voice more certain this time, his eyes steady on yours. “I don’t care about the rest of it—our families, the politics, all of it. I love you."
Tears well up in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming joy of hearing him say those words. You feel the sincerity in them, the weight of what it means for him to admit it, to declare it, despite everything.
You reach for him, cupping his face in your hands. Using your thumb, you softly rub his cheek. “I love you too, Seungmin, and I think I’ve loved you for longer than I can admit," your voice breaking as you try to hold back your emotions.
Seungmin leans in, closing the small distance between you, and kisses you softly, slowly, as if savoring the moment. His lips are warm against yours, and in that kiss, you feel everything: his love, his promise, his fear, and his hope.
-
Things are going well. Your relationship with Seungmin remains a secret, and the results of the pre-vote are out, revealing that your father is leading the race by an 8% margin. Everyone is happy, all is well—but you have this nagging feeling in your chest that things won’t stay like this for long. You hope it's for the better, and God, you hope that's true.
To celebrate your father leading in the pre-vote, your family holds a brunch this afternoon. Being invited to this is a significant step toward winning your way back into the family. Your little sister has taken your hand under the table, squeezing it as a sign of solidarity. She hasn’t said it out loud, but you can feel that she’s happy to have you here, part of the family again, even if only for a moment.
However, as the minutes tick by and your father doesn’t appear, a gnawing feeling settles in your chest. You try to brush it off, focusing on how far you’ve come. After all, you’re here, included, proving that you can still be the daughter your family wants you to be.
Then your mother calls you and asks you to follow her to your father’s study. She makes you sit on the leather sofa in anticipation. Her expression is soft, but there’s something behind her eyes that makes your stomach churn, and you know something is wrong before she even speaks.
“When was the last time you saw him?” she asks, her voice quiet but direct.
Your mind flashes back to that night with Seungmin on the boat. You haven’t told anyone, and as far as you know, no one has seen you. But your mother’s gaze is sharp, and she’ll know if you lie.
“I… I went on a boat with Seungmin,” you admit meekly, your voice small and low. “But we were discreet. I swear, no one saw us.”
Your mother lets out a heavy sigh, her hand going to the nape of her neck as she massages it lightly. She doesn’t say anything but takes out her phone from her tweed jacket, tapping the screen a few times before handing it to you. Your eyes widen as you look at the screen, the shock hitting you like a punch to the gut.
There on the screen are photos—compromising photos. Some show you smoking; others are more intimate, even naked. You feel the blood drain from your face. These are pictures from that night on Seungmin’s brother-in-law’s boat, now plastered across the internet.
“Mom…” you stammer, trying to make sense of it. “There was no one there except us. This can’t be happening. It wasn’t Seungmin… it couldn’t be.”
“I’m afraid you weren’t as discreet as you thought,” your mother says, her expression composed but with a grave undertone. “Your father found out about the relationship. He’s furious, and this… this could ruin everything for him.”
You feel faint and hurriedly lean against the table to steady yourself. “No… no, it can’t be. Seungmin would never—”
The idea of Seungmin betraying you is unthinkable, but the pictures don’t lie. Someone had been there, someone had taken them, and now your life is spiraling out of control.
“I don’t believe it’s him,” you insist, shaking your head in denial. “Seungmin wouldn’t do this to me. He cares about me.”
“Think about what’s best for you,” your mother says, her voice rising slightly as she struggles to keep her composure. “Whether it’s Seungmin or his family behind this, we can’t take any more risks. You need to stay away from him, at least until I can figure out what’s really going on.”
Your heart aches, torn between your love for Seungmin and the loyalty you’re still trying to prove to your family.
“I’m sending you back to your hotel,” she says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. “And you’re not to leave until I say it’s safe. Your father is already angry enough, and we can’t afford any more mistakes.”
Before you can protest, she leaves, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving you standing in the middle of the room. You want to believe in Seungmin, but now doubts plague your mind. A question gnaws at you: Is your love for Seungmin worth risking everything you have left?
-
The car ride back to the hotel is a blur of tears and shattered trust. Your chest feels heavy, the weight of betrayal pressing down on you, suffocating you.
The man you trusted, the one who held you close, is part of the very family responsible for leaking those photos. Whether Seungmin is directly involved or not doesn’t matter anymore—his family is, and that’s enough for you to push him away.
The car pulls up to the curb, and the doorman is there instantly, opening the door and offering his hand to help you out. You feel faint, your legs trembling from the emotions raging inside, but you force yourself to stand, to walk, and to keep your head up if you can.
Just as you step onto the pavement, a familiar hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, your heart aching in your chest.
Seungmin. He’s there, his eyes wide with worry, as if he hadn’t expected to see you like this. And oh, the sight of him, the man you thought you could trust, brings everything crashing down.
Without thinking, you rush at him, your fists pounding against his chest in a fit of anger and betrayal.
“How could you?!” you scream through your tears, each punch that lands fueled by the pain inside. “How could you let them do this to me?!”
Seungmin doesn’t fight back. He just stands there, letting you hit him, his face filled with shock and pain as he tries to reach for you, to explain.
“It wasn’t me,” he tries to say, but the words are lost in the chaos of your emotions. “You know I’d never—”
“Stop lying!” you shout, cutting him off.
Your emotions hit their boiling point, the pain overwhelming you. “You expect me to believe you didn’t know? That this wasn’t some way to tear me apart?”
His eyes widen in disbelief, his hands reaching for you, but you slap them away. “I don’t know who’s doing this, but I would never let anyone hurt you like this. You have to believe me!”
“Believe you? After everything that’s happened? I’ve been humiliated, and you come here pretending like you had nothing to do with it?” Your voice rises with every word, and you’re too far gone, too hurt.
He tries again, stepping closer, but you shove him hard enough that he staggers backward. “I can’t even look at you right now. Get out! Get the fuck out of my face!” you scream, tears streaming down your cheeks.
Seeing you like this is painful for him, but not as painful as knowing he caused this. His hands tremble as he tries one last time to reach for you. “Please, don’t do this—let’s talk—”
Drawn by the commotion, hotel security steps in between you and him, blocking him from approaching you.
“Sir, you need to leave,” one of them says, placing a firm hand on Seungmin’s shoulder.
“Wait! Just let me talk to her!” He tries to push past them, but they hold him back, stronger.
It’s too late. You’ve already turned away, not even sparing him a last glance. He can’t bear the thought of being the cause of all this.
As the door of your hotel room clicks shut behind you, the silence fills the room, and everything comes crashing down again. This time, you don’t have anything left to fight with, so you let the pain and heartbreak consume you, sinking to the floor as tears flood your eyes.
It hits you now—you’ve pushed away the one person you thought you could trust, but everything feels broken beyond repair. It feels like you’re losing everything: your family, your trust, and the man you thought was different.
Leaning against the closed door that seals you off from the outside world, you wonder if there’s anything left to hold on to.
-
The more Seungmin thinks about it, the more certain he becomes that there is only one person who could have leaked the photos—someone who knew about the boat, someone involved. His brother-in-law.
He doesn’t waste any more time. He grabs his car keys and drives straight to his brother-in-law’s place. A storm rages in his chest, anger mixed with dread, his head full of accusations and possible answers.
When he arrives, he skips the courtesies and storms inside. He finds his brother-in-law leaning against the kitchen counter, looking surprised but not startled to see him.
“Seungmin? What’s going on?” he casually asks.
Seungmin doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of him, glaring into his eyes, refusing to be fooled again.
“You know damn well what’s going on. You’re the only one who knew about the boat, the only one who could’ve tipped off the paparazzi. Tell me the truth!" He slams his hand on the counter, causing a spoon resting on the edge of a bowl to clatter. "Did you leak those photos?”
His brother-in-law’s face tenses, the calm façade slipping, replaced by panic. “Look, Seungmin, before you go off—”
“Just answer me!” Seungmin urges, his voice cracking with anger. He can’t bear the thought that someone so close to him—someone he thought of as a brother—has betrayed him like this.
After an intense silence, his brother-in-law sighs and rubs his forehead. “Fine. Yes, I hired the paparazzi.”
Deep down, Seungmin knew this would be the answer, but it doesn’t stop the anger and betrayal surging through him. His hands ball into fists at his sides, his body shaking from holding back violence.
“You set us up? Why?”
His brother-in-law looks at him and licks his lips before answering, “It wasn’t just me, alright? I had permission—permission from your father.”
Seungmin could understand his brother-in-law’s motive: he wants to get on his father’s good side, to be acknowledged and approved. But his father? His own father, whom Seungmin respects and admires, someone he has helped campaign for because he believes in him?
“My father? He knew? He approved this?” Seungmin stammers, struggling to comprehend it.
“Your father’s been watching you, Seungmin. He knows about your little affair with her, and he’s not happy. So yeah, he gave the go-ahead. The idea was to expose her, make her the problem,” his brother-in-law explains, and as if he couldn’t say anything more stupid, he adds, “It’s nothing personal, just politics.”
Seungmin knocks everything off the table—plates, glass, spoon—all clattering to the floor. “You ruined her life for politics!" he shouts, hoping it’ll knock some sense into his brother-in-law’s crooked mind.
“You know how this works, Seungmin,” his brother-in-law says calmly, still leaning against the counter. “Your father is just trying to protect you.”
“Protect me? By destroying her? By ruining her reputation?” Seungmin’s jaw clenches as he fists his hands so hard his knuckles turn white.
“She’s not innocent in all of this, and you know you shouldn’t have gotten involved with her in the first place,” his brother-in-law says, his gaze piercing.
It’s betrayal upon betrayal. Seungmin’s mind is still struggling to process the fact that his father orchestrated the entire thing, using his brother-in-law to tear them apart.
Without another word, Seungmin storms out, but his brother-in-law daringly runs his mouth once more, “You’ll thank me later, Seungmin. Trust me.”
But Seungmin isn’t listening. His mind is busy planning what to do next—how to fix this, how to make things right. His number one priority is not letting his family ruin your life any further.
-
Seungmin storms into his father’s office, despite his father clearly being in the middle of an interview. His father hurriedly signals his secretary to escort the interviewer out of the room, knowing Seungmin is barely containing his anger.
The man behind the desk doesn’t flinch, already knowing why his son is there. He’s always composed and in control, but today, Seungmin isn’t going to let him keep that control.
“You set me up,” Seungmin spits, his voice sharp with betrayal. His father looks up, surprised but not shaken. “You used your own son to destroy her, to ruin her life, just because of some political rivalry?”
His father leans back in his chair, calmly putting his hands together in front of him. “It’s not about you, Seungmin. It’s about our family’s legacy. You were distracted, involved with the wrong person. I had to make sure you stayed focused on what really matters.”
“What really matters?” Seungmin’s voice shakes with disbelief and anger. “What really matters is that you took someone I care about and humiliated her! For what? Your campaign?”
“That girl was trouble,” his father remarks coldly. “She’s from a family that stands against everything we’re trying to build. You should have known better.”
“I don’t care about the politics!” Seungmin shouts, stepping closer to his father’s desk, unafraid for the first time of going against his father’s principles. “I care about her, and you—you ruined her for your own gain.”
His father stands, towering over the desk and staring intensely into his eyes. “You think you can just walk away from this? From your family? We’ve sacrificed everything for you, Seungmin. You’re going to be a part of this, whether you like it or not.”
“No, I’m not. I’m done with all of this. I’ll never be a part of this family again,” Seungmin says, shaking his head, done being a pawn in his father’s political games.
His father’s eyes darken, and a cold smirk rises at the corner of his lips. “You think this is all about one girl?” he scoffs.
“You’re naïve, Seungmin. You haven’t been in this world long enough to understand how power works. Sacrifices have to be made. And if you walk away from this family, from me, there’s more where that came from.”
Seungmin’s chest tightens with disbelief. “What do you mean by that?”
His father leans forward, his voice low and dangerous. “You think those were the only photos? There’s more from her past. I have them, and if you walk away now—if you so much as think about turning your back on this family—I will release every last one. She won’t have a life left to salvage.”
His father pulls open a drawer and takes out a file, showing Seungmin the photos he’s been keeping as a weapon. “But if you stay—if you fall in line and keep your head down until the election is over—I’ll make sure they disappear.”
Seungmin is hit with another wave of betrayal. His father had planned this all along, dangling her reputation as leverage over him. He expected manipulation, but this? This was beyond anything he could have imagined.
“You’re willing to destroy everything just for power?”
His father doesn’t flinch. “It’s not about power, Seungmin. It’s about winning. And I have won.”
-
TEN DAYS LATER.
The election is over, and his father has indeed won, but to Seungmin, it means he has nothing left to lose.
The man in front of him has torn apart the one thing that means the most to him, and for what? A title? A seat in the governor’s office?
As everyone gathers around his father, congratulating him and celebrating his victory, Seungmin can't help but wonder: does his father feel the slightest bit of disgust for what he did to achieve this win? Seungmin certainly does. He can't look at his father the same way anymore and refuses being related to him apart from sharing the same DNA.
Seungmin makes his way toward his father, and when he's close enough, he extends his hand. His father doesn't hesitate and grips it, shaking it with a triumphant smile plastered across his face.
"Are you happy now?" Seungmin asks calmly.
"Well, I've won," his father replies with a sickening smirk.
There’s not a hint of remorse on his face for what he did to his own son, which only convinces Seungmin further that he wants no part of this anymore.
"But you've lost your son," Seungmin boldly remarks, each word carrying a finality his father can’t ignore.
Without waiting for his father’s reply, Seungmin turns on his heel and walks away—from his father, his family, everything. He leaves the office behind, as if it’s already become a distant memory.
There's only one thing left to do now.
He drives straight to your father’s campaign headquarters because he doesn't know where else to start. Your family is the only one who knows where you are, and although he doubts any of them would tell him, he can’t—he mustn't—give up.
When he arrives, the place is busy with activity, but it offers a different kind of atmosphere compared to his father’s headquarters. He balls his hands into fists in determination and enters the building without hesitation.
"Apologies, sir, but the headquarters is strictly for staff only tonight," a security guard blocks him from stepping inside.
"I need to talk to someone in there," Seungmin says, hoping the guard will understand and let him through.
"Unless you’ve already made an appointment, we can't let you in, sir," the guard says firmly, crossing his arms and standing in front of the doorway.
Reluctantly, Seungmin steps back, trying to come up with a new plan. He considers waiting outside until one of your family members leaves. It’s a flawed idea, but it’s the best one he has.
Then, as if by divine intervention, your younger sister appears at the reception desk. Seungmin takes a step closer to the entrance, ignoring the guard, and does everything he can to catch her attention, even calling her by her full name.
She looks over her shoulder and, upon seeing him, her expression turns cold and defensive. She never trusted him, and Seungmin doesn’t blame her. Still, he’s desperate, and this might be his only chance to find you.
“I need to know where she is,” Seungmin says, his voice steady but pleading. “I need to see her before it’s too late.”
Your sister crosses her arms, scrutinizing him. "Why should I help you? After everything that’s happened, why should I trust you?"
His throat tightens, but he meets her gaze with unwavering sincerity. “Because I love her. I had no part in what my father did. I’d give up everything to be with her. I already have.”
There’s a long pause as your sister’s expression shifts, her defenses slowly lowering. Perhaps she sees the earnestness in his eyes, the depth of his regret, and his determination.
She turns to the receptionist, writes something down on a piece of paper, and hands it to him. “If you break her heart again, I swear to God...” she mutters, leaving the threat unfinished.
Seungmin’s heart leaps. He’s just met her, but she already feels more like family than his own ever has. “Thank you," he says, his voice full of gratitude.
“She’s leaving the country tomorrow, so you’d better hurry,” she adds, turning away before he can say anything more.
Every second becomes precious as his heart pounds with a new sense of urgency. This is it. He won’t lose you—not to his father, not to the mess his family has created. This time, nothing will stop him.
-
The country house is quiet, almost too quiet. The only sounds are the soft rustling of the trees outside and the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards beneath your feet. The room is stifling, but it’s your thoughts that press down on you the most. You fold another shirt and tuck it into your suitcase, packing for tomorrow, planning to leave nothing behind.
It was a mistake to come back here, and you know it now. This city was once a refuge; now, it feels like a prison, a place to hide. You’ve become a liability to your family, and your father made that painfully clear when he sent you here. You were told to stay quiet, remain hidden, and leave without a trace in the morning.
There’s no future for you here anyway.
Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you zip up the suitcase. You can’t take any more of this—feeling like a pawn in a game that was never yours to play. Leaving is the only choice left. It’s for the best, even if it means abandoning everything you’ve ever known. It’s not an easy decision, but you force yourself to push through it.
Then, suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, breaking the stillness of the night.
Your heart leaps, and for a moment, you freeze. You remember your father’s warnings: Never open the door. No one is to know you’re here. Stay hidden. You take a step back, away from the door.
Another knock comes, this time more urgent.
You remain still, holding your breath, praying that whoever it is will go away. But then you hear a voice—his voice.
“Please... it’s me, Seungmin.”
Your heart races at the sound of his voice, familiar and full of emotion. You badly want to rush to the door, to throw it open and fall into his arms, but the alarm bells in your head ring louder. You can’t. You shouldn’t.
“I know you’re in there,” Seungmin says, his voice breaking between words. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Please... just let me in.”
You clench your fists, torn between what you know is right and the ache in your chest. You stay quiet, pressing your back against the door, fighting the overwhelming urge to respond.
"I had to find you," Seungmin continues, his voice softer now, almost desperate. “I couldn’t let you leave without seeing you. I can’t lose you—not after everything we’ve been through.”
Tears well in your eyes as you lean your forehead against the door, trying to keep your emotions in check. You shouldn’t let him in. This is a mistake—all of it—but hearing him on the other side, so close yet out of reach, is tearing you apart.
“I just want to be with you," Seungmin whispers. "I love you.”
The words break something inside you, and before you realize what you’re doing, your hand is on the doorknob. Torn between fear and love, you know you shouldn’t open the door, but your heart is aching for him. No matter how hard you try, you can’t ignore the pull you feel toward him.
“Please, don’t shut me out," he mutters, his voice thick with hopelessness.
Your walls crumble. With shaking hands, you unlock the door and pull it open, revealing Seungmin standing there, his face full of worry and relief. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours. Without a word, he steps forward and takes you into his arms.
He holds you tightly, his warmth familiar and comforting. He feels like home. Finally, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
Seungmin buries his face in your hair, whispering, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
You pull back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his. In that moment, without thinking, you lean in and press your lips to his—a kiss full of longing and everything you’ve been holding back for so long.
In the quiet of that night, with the stars shining through the open window and the future uncertain, you know that, despite everything, being with him is the only thing that makes sense.
-
The soft glow of moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a delicate sheen across the room. Your bodies are entwined beneath the sheets, the warmth of the moment lingering between you.
Seungmin hovers above you, his chest rising and falling as he gently caresses your face, his fingertips tracing the outline of your cheek like you are something sacred. His gaze is intense but tender, as if memorizing every part of you, still unable to believe you are really here in his arms.
His touch is soft, but the weight of the emotions between you is palpable. You can feel it in the way his fingers brush over your skin. He hasn’t said much, but his eyes tell everything—relief, love, fear of what could have been if he had lost you for good.
“I almost lost you,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing your lips. You lean into his touch, savoring the feeling of being so close, so connected. “I don’t ever want to feel that again.”
You gaze up at him, your heart aching with affection. Here, in this moment, it is just you and him, and nothing else matters.
Seungmin lowers his head to place a soft kiss on your forehead, then your lips, as if sealing some unspoken promise between the two of you.
“Let’s go somewhere,” his lips brush against yours with every word. “Let's start over, somewhere far away from all of this.”
His words hang in the air. The invitation comes so suddenly that you don’t know how to react. You blink up at him, feeling a mix of emotions—hope, love, but also fear. You love him deeply, more than you thought was possible, but you don’t want him to lose everything for you the way you have for him.
“Seungmin…” you whisper, your voice barely audible as your hand comes up to cup his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to lose your family, not like I did.”
“I’m sure,” he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction. “This, us, it’s what I want. I want to leave all of this behind and just be with you.”
A tear rolls down your cheek as you stare into his eyes, seeing the truth in his words, the earnestness of his intentions. While it makes you indescribably happy, it also breaks your heart a little. He is giving up everything—his family, his place in their world—just to be with you. You love him more for it, but it's also a heavy burden to bear.
“You really mean that?” you ask, your voice trembling with emotion.
Seungmin nods, his forehead pressing gently against yours. “Yes. This is what I want.”
It feels like the world has finally shifted, like things are starting to fall into place. Even though the future is still uncertain, you believe in him, in the two of you together, and that's enough.
“I love you,” you whisper, pulling him down into a soft, lingering kiss. “As long as we’re together, everything’s going to be okay.”
He kisses you back, holding you tightly against him, and in that moment, everything becomes clear. This is not just a mere coincidence. This is fate. You and Seungmin, together, is fate.
-
The hum of the plane's engines is comforting, familiar, as you both settle into your seats, side by side.
The memory of that first flight together—the stolen glances, the whispered conversations—comes rushing back, but this time it feels different. This is a new beginning, a chance to start over.
Seungmin glances over at you, a playful glint filling his warm brown eyes. He shifts in his seat, turning toward you just like he had the first time.
"Hi, I’m Seungmin,” he softly says, offering his hand in mock formality, his smile full of warmth. “Traveling alone?”
You can’t help but smile back, slipping your hand into his. “Nice to meet you. And I’m traveling with someone very special, actually.”
You both chuckle, the familiarity of the moment easing the tension of everything that came before. It's like stepping into a memory but with the promise of something better ahead.
Seungmin’s eyes soften as he looks at you, and he leans in closer, his voice lowering.
“Business or pleasure?” you ask playfully, replaying the conversation that had sparked your connection all those months ago.
“Neither,” he answers, his voice gentle but certain. “I’m traveling for a happy ending.”
His words send a flutter through your chest, and you feel the warmth spread all the way to your fingertips. You look at him, your heart overflowing with emotion, knowing that this isn’t just a flight—it is a leap into the unknown, into something new and full of possibility.
You squeeze his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin against yours. “A happy ending,” you repeat with a smile.
As the plane begins to taxi down the runway, he intertwines his fingers with yours, holding on tightly, unwilling to let go. You both stare out the window, watching the world fall away beneath you, your hearts beating in sync.
And as the plane lifts off, climbing higher into the sky, you know that whatever the future holds, as long as you are together, everything will be okay.
The past is behind you now, and in this moment, with Seungmin by your side, the world feels wide open, full of hope and promise. Into a happy ending, you go.
-
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-> You keep coincidentally running into your supervisor after work hours. It's getting harder and harder not to flirt with him...especially since he can't seem to stop flirting back.
supervisor!Jisung x office worker!fem!reader
office!au, low-key secret dating, low-key forbidden love, fluff, slight angst, suggestive (let's not kid ourselves)
2.7K
warnings: creepy behavior makes Jisung feel uncomfortable but reader is there to save the day, cursing, mild dirty thoughts (they get worse just wait), really bad flirting not sorry, kdrama cringe bc I'm the author and I can
After Hours navigation
Feedback is greatly appreciated bc honestly I'm still writing the storyline and I need a little inspiration <3
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Coffee is, perhaps, the most important sustenance in existence. From an early age, you remember being introduced to your first love. The smell, the bitterness, the warmth. It's one of the only things that can make you happy when you have to get out in such disgusting weather.
The sky has been crying for hours. Cars drive through puddles, splashing the sidewalk while street drains continue to sing off-key. You manage to escape into the coffee shop just in time to miss a roar of thunder.
It's unexpectedly crowded today. You lean to the side to get a better look at how long the line is. With a sigh, you settle in for an uncomfortably long wait. You're not the only one who loves coffee on rainy days apparently.
It is unfortunate that this rainy day happens to be the first day of your new job. And since you are particularly excited for this job, you really don't want to be late. A good first impression is everything after all.
The chimes on the door ring out again, signaling someone new has entered the shop, earning your attention for a brief glance over your shoulder.
In he trots, the clumsiest man you've ever seen in your entire life. He trips over the threshold trying to beat the rain and almost falls flat on his face. No umbrella, a mumbled curse under his breath, and the hood of his rain jacket dripping onto the floor. He shakes his shoes off, hissing a shiver.
Although you can't see his face from this angle, he begins carefully scanning the coffee shop. If he's trying to be inconspicuous, it's not working very well. His every movement is like a cartoon character.
Where did this clown come from? Is it his first day walking or--
"Oh, damn," you slap a hand over your mouth because that was not meant to be out loud.
But the 'oh damn' still stand because what the actual fuck? The moment he removes his hood, everything changes.
There's an instant attraction you simply can't deny, even if you tried. If someone took your type on paper and manifested it into a single guy, it would be him.
You quickly revert your attention, realizing immediately that the line has in fact moved up without you in the time you spent gawking at a stranger.
His skin reminds you of a sweet caramel macchiato, but his eyes make you crave black dark roast coffee. His lips glisten from the rain, as if nature herself was so enamoured she had to pause to kiss them. His hair is perfectly messy but also styled to compliment his duality that makes you think babygirl, but also you would like him to push you against the wall, please. His shoulders relax as he makes his way to the line.
He stands behind you now, hands in his pockets, jacket open, and a pleasant hum on his lips. You don't recognize the song, but it sparks a curiosity within you. Does he hum a lot? When he's waiting in line for places or cleaning his apartment? It's a cute quirk, one you wouldn't mind tolerating if you were to ever be around it for an extended period of time.
You're such a hopeless romantic. Grow up.
The gentleman in front of you must be getting impatient. He huffs at the wait, turns around, and trudges off, knocking into you on his way because basic manners don't apply to him clearly.
"Oof--!" You stumble backwards. And if it hadn't been for the water on the floor, you might have survived. But you end up tragically slipping and falling into the arms of the customer right behind you.
Looking up, you're face to face with him now. His arms cling around your shoulders while your back has crashed into his chest. He looks surprised but not upset.
He smiles down at you, charmed and amused. "Are you okay?"
Despite being stunned by both the suddenness of the moment and his beauty, you pull yourself together and stand up on your own.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm so sorry, that was an accident."
"Don't worry about it. That guy bumped into you pretty hard. I would have fallen too."
"Well, thank you for catching me," you reply sweetly, brushing yourself off.
"Anytime. Wouldn't want you falling into the wrong arms."
Hold up...did this dude just drop a line on you? Wait a second, look closer.
A half smirk, puffed chest, lifted chin, soft eyes, bitten lip. Based on your extensive experience reading romance novels...he's flirting with you!?
This is no time to get flustered so easily. Oh, but something else is lit under your skin at the notion of his confident body language and adorable dimples -- the growing desire to flirt back and make him stutter.
"Thank you for your generosity and willingness..."
"Jisung."
"Jisung..." his name sounds cute in your voice, "I can be pretty clumsy."
"Me too."
"Yeah, I know," you stiffle a laugh, "I saw you come in earlier."
"Oh," he facepalms into his hand, a regretful groan coming from his chest. "You saw that?"
"Mhm," you nod cutely.
"Well, I guess the jig is up. I can deny it no longer." He takes a bow. "I am a klutz."
Even if it's not that funny, whatever he says makes you laugh. The way his eyes communicate, causing a rush of endorphins and giggles to bubble up inside you. You're completely smitten after only a few minutes.
There's just something about him.
The line moves up periodically, so you scoot your way forward every few minutes. Jisung takes the opportunity to inch his way closer until he's practically standing next to you in line. You don't mind. He gives off a warmth and spiciness you'd like to explore more of.
"Well, Klutz, I should warn you," you say, and Jisung tilts his head at the nickname, "most people don't find it easy to keep up with me."
"Good thing I like a challenge. Who knows..."
"___."
He pauses for a moment, seemingly to process your name, eyes glazing over as if enchanted. Wouldn't it be nice if he was that starstruck by simply your name? Whatever is going through his head, there's a spark behind his eyes, and the mention of your name only made it brighter.
"___," he smiles and continues, "I might just surprise you."
"You really think you can?"
"I caught you once, didn't I?"
"Yes, but one could argue that was just a coincidence."
His voice lowers, playful and knowing, as if daring you to deny it, "A pretty damn good coincidence if you ask me."
There's not many moments his gaze is elsewhere. He keeps his attention locked on you, your attitude, your comebacks, your eyes. Goddamn, your eyes. They make him hesitate, but...he doesn't want to miss the immense possibility hidden behind them.
There's just something about you.
Then something else rudely catches his attention as you approach the front of the line.
“Oh, shit.”
“What?”
“Nothing." He plays off his sudden nervousness with a hand behind his head and a chuckle.
"You said oh shit for nothing?”
You two barely know each other, but somehow he knows you're not about to let this go. And it's easier to just fess up what's wrong instead of playing dumb.
“That barista," he gestures with a head nod. The one behind the register taking everyone's order. The one about to take your order.
“What about her?” You look back and forth, examining his drastic change in body language. “Does she make you uncomfortable?”
“She…wants me.”
“She wants you?”
"Hey, don't be jealous, ___," he chides with a sassy click of his tongue.
“I'm not jealous," you insist, rolling your eyes, "I'm just surprised.”
“You're surprised someone wants me?"
"I didn't mean--"
"Brutal."
“Come on, you know that's not what I meant!"
“I'm not making this easy on you, am I?”
“You're really not," you laugh as you give his shoulder a playful shove.
“Sorry," he apologizes while pretending your push did literally anything.
“Okay, but what's her deal?”
He shakes his head as if bamboozled by the whole thing, a disgusted taste in his mouth as his expression twists and frowns. “She just always flirts with me and it's weird. Last time she said something pretty inappropriate…”
“It must have really bothered you.”
The girl at the register lifts her hand. "I can take whoever's next, please."
“You know what, I don't really need to buy coffee," Jisung says quickly, holding a hand out to shake yours goodbye. "There's coffee at my office anyway. It was really nice to meet you, ___. I hope I catch you again sometime soon?"
“Hold on, you waited in line all this time, and now you're not going to get coffee because of her?”
He just shrugs.
“Uh, no," you say firmly, taking his hand and pulling him with you to the counter. "Come on, we're getting you a coffee.”
He has no choice but to give in, because you're rather cute dragging him along like this, like the two of you are familiar and close. But he's also undeniably nervous. Something feels very wrong about the way the barista eyes him up and down when she sees him.
But something feels very right when you hold his hand.
"Hi," you sing to the girl, "just one second please."
And then you turn to Jisung. Lifting his hand so the barista can clearly see, you interlock your fingers while scanning his features lovingly. "Don't forget, babe, you promised I could pay this time, so get whatever you like. I want to treat my prince right."
Oh, fuck fuck fuck.
You're pretending. This is not a drill. Jisung can't barely breathe when you look at him like that. Mischievous and domestically lighthearted with a hint of sexy expectation.
The most outrageous and yet charming thing you could have possibly done in this moment, and Jisung is struggling to move past the feeling of your nails nonchalantly scratching the back of his hand, like it's habit after holding his hand so many times before. Oh god, the goosebumps aren't going away.
You must be an actress. It's the only thing that makes any sense. Your beauty, grace, off the cuff banter, expressions, not to mention your ability to jump into the scene and play the perfect girlfriend in seconds. Jisung is convinced he's met the next nation's sweetheart, and all he can do is sweat bullets under his jacket and stare into your eyes as if he's stargazing.
He said he could keep up with you. Here's his chance to prove it.
He manages a small, breathless chuckle, "Okay okay. You know I can't refuse that face."
"I know," you proudly reply while hugging his arm, your chest pressed into his side and your lips spread into a wide, victorious smile. "Which is why I use it all the time. I like flustering you."
The whole coffee shop audibly heard the skip in his heartbeat just now.
In the corner of your eye, you can see the barista's smile slowly dying. She's watching you dote and hang all over Jisung with distain. But what bothers her the most is how absolutely spellbound he is by every movement you make, happily mesmerized by your very existence. The way he's looking at you...
"Jisung," she tries to get his attention, "you never mentioned a...who is she?"
"Huh?" He finally tears his eyes off of you for a mere moment, but then they're glued to you once again. "Oh, this is ___. My girlfriend." Saying that out loud felt way too right.
"Girlfriend?" You whine, pausing to shake your head. "I thought you said I'm your soulmate."
"Aw, baby, I'm sorry," he cups your cheek and matches your pout, "of course, you're my soulmate. It was a slip of the tongue. Forgive me?"
You nod happily and boop his nose. "Forgiven." The flush of pink that spreads to his ears definitely isn't pretend.
"Umm," the barista smacks her gum, "I thought you said you were single."
"I was," he sighs, doing his best to play along without getting too caught up in the role. "But then I met ___. And everything changed."
She eyes you up and down with a distasteful frown.
"You could do better."
There's a short silence while the two of you try to figure out where she found the audacity. The only sound is the barista's foot tapping on the floor, a most rhythmic and detestable thump.
While your heart dramatically sinks into your stomach.
"I'll take a caramel macchiato," you finally break the silence, "what do you want, babe?"
"You don't know his order?" The barista cuts in with a scoff. "How can you be his girlfriend and not know his coffee order? Looks like I know Jisung better than you do, huh?" She flips on the sweetie pie act again when she turns to him. "I'll make your usual--"
"I'll take a caramel macchiato as well. And an apology."
"Oh, umm sorry--"
"Not to me." His hand tightens around yours. "To ___."
"What?"
He doesn't repeat himself. The barista can't hardly believe he's serious. But he doesn't back down or make light of what he demanded. You look a little caught-in-headlights as well, unsure of what to do exactly. If anyone should be apologized to, it's Jisung. He's the one the barista has been borderline harassing every time he tries to get coffee here.
And yet Jisung is more concerned about the fact that she made one, minor comment about you not being good enough for him. And who knows, maybe you're not! You just met today and you're not even his real girlfriend!
She clenches her jaw, unwavering eye contact with Jisung as she grunts through her teeth, "Sorry."
Not exactly a satisfactory apology, but at least she won't be bothering Jisung anymore. And you're more than willing to stop by with him a few more times to make sure the story sells and this barista bitch stays in her lane.
You tap your card to pay, grab your coffees, and head for the door.
You gather your umbrella. Jisung pulls his hood over his head. Out the door you go. As soon as your out of ear shot, the two of you can't keep your laughs in any longer.
"Did you see her face when she apologized!? Oh my god, you never get caramel macchiatos, do you?"
"Absolutely never," he giggles behind his hand.
"Sorry if that was completely insane. But it's stupid you can't order coffee because some bitch barista can't keep her eyes up. I know you probably felt weird."
"No, it felt right." A pause of held breaths and fluttering eyelids, and then Jisung scrambles to add, "I mean, it worked, didn't it?"
"Like a charm," you respond, still flabbergasted at the moment.
"That soulmate shit was priceless by the way." Jisung narrows his eyes at you, a teasing suspicion on the tip of his tongue. "You're a real hopeless romantic, aren't you?"
"You're the one who cupped my face and called me baby. If anyone is the hopeless romantic, it's you."
He can't argue against that. Jisung is indeed a hopeless romantic at heart.
"Seriously, thank you so much for not letting me leave. I'll pay you back for this, promise. Anything you want."
"Anything?"
"Name it and it's yours."
"Your number?"
Where this confidence came from you're not entirely sure, but the way his smile lights up like fireworks at your request feels brand new. He quickly corrects his giddiness with a sip of coffee and a shrug.
"I guess that's a reasonable request."
With his number in your phone and the hour ticking by, you exchange glances through the rain. Shy eye contact and hesitating feet. Neither of you want to leave, although it's definitely time to get going, and it's painfully obvious.
"Which way are you headed?"
"Towards City Center."
"Oh, me too! We can walk together. If you'd like?"
"Yeah," you take his arm, coffee in one hand while he holds your umbrella in the other, "I'd like that. Klutz."
"Uh, is that nickname gonna be a thing?"
"I don't know yet. Why?"
"I liked babe better."
Yeah, well that makes two of you. But calling him babe feels a bit too natural for you to be so shamelessly and carelessly throwing it into the mix. But maybe you let it slip a few times while you're walking, you know, accidentally. And maybe you really enjoy seeing the corner of his lips turn up each time you do.
Banter and flirting fly free between the two of you, never once feeling awkward or scary. It's so rare something like this comes along in your life. An instant click like this needs to be protected, cherished. The more you listen to Jisung talk, the more you're convinced he's supposed to be someone special to you.
"This is me." He stops at the doors to a large glass building, the rain still coming down decently hard on your umbrella above your heads.
You look at the building with sad eyes, knowing that unless something crazy happens in the next ten seconds, this magical happenstance of meeting him will--
Hold on.
"Does that sign say Mindy&Mindy Consulting?"
Jisung slowly nods. "Yes. This is my work. Why?"
"I'm starting here today."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm the newest hire for the financial services department."
"Wait," Jisung blinks, "you're the new hire?"
"You know about me?"
"Of course, I do," he says. "I'm the department's Senior Consultant."
"You're the...so that means..."
Any and all confusion morphs as his eyebrows lift and his jaw drops in realization. It hits you both at the same time, a reality bomb just dropped on your little flirty fantasy.
"You're my boss."
::
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<3
Love you better- H.JS
So, LATAM Jisung did something to my heart and I had to write something for him 🫠 I was supposed to also post uno and chill part 2 today but I accidentally fell asleep during the afternoon and since it's already late, I won't be able to finish it. Good thing I have a long holiday and only come back to uni on Thursday so wait for a lot of updates during the following days (including an Easter special fic 🤭). Nari, if you see this, please don't freak out 😚
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: smut, bros code breaking
Alexa, play Friends With Your Ex by Landon Barker
It all started the night you left Chan.
Not in a dramatic, Hollywoodian explosion. No screaming, no shattered plates, just silence. A final, tired “okay”, and the soft click of a door that didn’t reopen.
You didn’t know where to go, so you walked. It didn’t take long for your phone to buzz.
Hannie: you okay?
That was all it took.
He met you at that 24 hour diner which served bad coffee and greasy bacon slices. Han slid the booth across from you like it wasn’t the middle of the night, like you hadn’t just broken up with his best friend.
He didn’t pry, didn’t ask you why it ended, or if you were okay. He just sat there, gave you his hoodie when you started shivering and let you cry into a plate of pancakes.
And since then, he kept showing up.
You’d text each other more. Stupid jokes bloomed into real conversations. He helped you move boxes out of Chan’s place without asking questions. He made you laugh when no one else could. He gave you rides home late at night because ‘it’s not safe for you to walk'. But he never pushed or crossed a line— he just was there for you, in case you needed it.
Until the night everything changed.
You were sitting in his car parked in some random parking lot. Raindrops tapped against the windows, music playing low. You were wearing his hoodie again and this time, your knees were pulled up in the seat, chin resting on top of them.
“I don’t get it”, you murmured, staring at the blur of city lights outside, “How he just… stopped loving me”
Chan had always been a good man. A kind man. But he was never there. Always at the studio, always putting your relationship last. You didn’t break up with him because you stopped loving him— you did it because he forgot how to love you back.
Han exhaled softly, glancing at you from the driver’s seat, “I don’t think he stopped loving you”, he said quietly, “I think… he just didn’t know how to love you the way you needed”.
That made your chest tighten. You turned toward him, realizing there’s something heavy in his gaze— something he’d been trying not to say for weeks.
“Han…”
He leaned in just a little. Not enough to kiss you, just enough for you to feel the heat.
“I shouldn’t want this”, he said quietly, eyes flicking to your mouth.
“Yeah… you shouldn’t”
“But I do”
You don’t remember who leaned in first. Maybe it was him, maybe it was you. But suddenly, your mouths met like you’ve been starving, like every night he held back, rushed to the surface all at once. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb gently brushing your cheek and suddenly you were kissing him hard.
Messy. Desperate. The car windows started to fog with your breath, your bodies twisting in the cramped front seat. Your legs slid over his lap and his hands grabbed your waist as he tried to stop himself— but he couldn't.
“He never touched you like this, did he?”, he murmured against your neck, teeth grazing your sensitive skin.
“That’s so wrong”, you whispered, but you were already pulling his hoodie off.
“Then why does it feel this good? Why aren’t you stopping me, huh?”, he groaned, voice rough as his lips found your collarbone.
Because the truth was— you were not just kissing Han. You were kissing every stolen glance. Every accidental touch. Every night you wished someone saw you the way he always did.
It was messy, forbidden— everything you were not supposed to want.
But in that moment with Han’s hands under your shirt and his voice whispering your name like you owned him— you finally felt wanted again.
“You’re still not stopping me”, Han breathed, voice hoarse against your skin.
He was right, you weren’t. You should. But your fingers were already tangled in the hem of his shirt, already tugging it up, palms sliding over the warm lines of his stomach as you straddled him in the driver’s seat.
Your breath hitched when your hands traced over his inked skin— his tattoos, surprisingly familiar, mapped out across his muscles.
“God”, you whispered, brushing your fingertips over just under his ribs, “These always drove me crazy”.
Han let out a low groan, eyes closing as he leaned into your touch, “You’ve barely seen them” he said, voice rough.
“I saw enough”, you whispered, lips ghosting over his neck, “I just didn’t let myself want to. It had been three long weeks, you know”
His hands found your hips like instinct when you grinded down on his lap, head falling back against the headrest. “Fuck”, he groaned.
You kissed him again, your teeth clashing slightly. He moaned into your mouth like he didn’t care that this was sinful. Bros code? He barely remembered it existed.
His hands were everywhere— trailing up your thighs, gripping your hips, sliding under your shirt until he gripped your bare waist like he needed to hold on or he’d have lost himself completely.
“We can’t do this, Yn… Tell me to stop”, he said suddenly, breath shaking.
But your reply was a soft, “Don’t stop”, whispered into the curve of his neck. You didn’t want him to stop, not when he touched you like that.
You rolled your hips over his lap slowly and he let out the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard from him.
Han’s hands gripped you tighter, his jaw clenched. “Jesus”, he muttered, kissing down your jaw, “You’ve been in my head for weeks. Every time you looked at me like you needed me… I couldn’t think straight”
You whimpered as he slid his hand under your bra, gently, thumbs brushing over your nipples. He pulled your shirt up, just enough to kiss the curve of your chest, hot and desperate, leaving a purple stain there. Even though it was sloppy and frantic, it made you cry out his name.
“Hannie…”
That definitely did something to him. His eyes flicked up, then he pulled you back in for another kiss— this time deeper, filthier, full of tongue and need and everything he’d been holding back.
You could feel how hard he was beneath you, straining in his jeans, as you rocked down again, dragging a soft whine from his throat.
“You keep doing that and I’m not gonna last”, he growled.
“I don’t want you to last”, you whispered, “I just want you to”
He let out a harsh exhale, more like a curse, then leaned forward. “Backseat”, he muttered, eyes dark with lust, “Now”.
You crawled over, and he followed right behind, pulling the door shut with one hand and dragging your hips into his lap again. This time, it was faster, hungrier. He slid your panties down your thighs without fully undressing you, and the thrill of it made your pulse race.
His fingers slid between your legs, and he cursed under his breath. “Damn, you’re soaked”
You arched into his touch, head falling back. “This is so bad”, you pant, “So, so… ah… wrong”
“Then why…”, he murmured, kissing the corner of your lips as he sank two fingers inside you without any warnings, “Does it feel so fucking good?”
You gasped, grinding down against his hand, and he watched you unravel, like he was trying to memorize every twitch, every moan, every part of you.
He fucked you with his fingers slow at first, curling them just right, until your hips were jerking and your nails digging into his shoulders.
“Let me make you forget him”, he whispered.
And god, you did. You fell apart in his lap with his name on your lips, and when you came down, trembling and breathless, he already got his jeans undone, already guiding you on him with a look that said: ‘Please, just this once, let me have you’.
You took him teasingly slow. As you sank down on him, your fingers clutched the back of the seat, lips parted in shock at how good it felt— how right it felt even when it shouldn’t.
His hands held your hips, anchoring you as you started to move.
The car rocked, the windows fogged and the world outside disappeared.
All that was left was Han— his body, his voice, his mouth. The desperate gasps, and whispered curses.
“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart…. better than I ever imagined”, he groaned, head falling back.
That made you pause, “You… imagined this before?”
With eyes closed shut, he nodded, breath shaky, chest rising and falling fast. “Every time something went wrong”, he whispered, voice wrecked. “Every time he ignored your feelings cause he was at the studio. Every time you showed up glowing in a new dress and he barely looked at you before saying you looked pretty cause he had a deadline”
A choked sound escaped him— half groan, half confession— as he thrusted into you again. “Fuck… every time I thought, ‘I could be better for her. I could actually make her happy’ “.
Your eyes stung. From the overwhelming pleasure but also from him. From the way he was baring himself to you in a way no one else ever has.
You blinked, lashes heavy with tears, a lump forming in your throat. And then you kissed him. Hard. Deep. With everything— every buried feeling, every confused moment over the past few weeks.
You kissed him like he was the only thing that made sense in the middle of the wreckage you’d been walking through. And he kissed you back like he’d been waiting years. Like this was a secret he was finally allowed to speak.
His thrusts started to lose rhythm, stuttering, desperate, like he was chasing the edge just as hard as you were. The windows were completely fogged now, your skins slick with sweat, your hands gripping his shoulders like they’re the only solid thing left in the world.
You were so close it hurt, each grind sending heat spiraling low in your belly, pressure curling tight until you gasped, eyes wide and unfocused.
“Fuck, I’m…” you started, but he cut you off.
“I know, me too, just come with me”
And when he reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, all while looking at you like you were the whole sky, that was what tipped you over. Your body tensed, then unraveled all at once— hot and shuddering, pleasure crashing over you in waves so strong you almost forgot to breathe.
He followed with a low moan of your name, hands gripping your hips as he came, pulling you down hard against him one last time.
Everything went silent, save for the sound of your panting breaths and the soft hum of the car engine.
You were still wrapped around him when he murmured, “I meant it, you know”
You blinked, heart still racing, “What?”
“All of it”, he said, voice low. “I know it is still soon, but I could be better for you. I want to be. I want to make you happy”
Your chest tightened. No one had ever said something like that after sex. Not to you, not like that.
You leaned forward, brushing your nose against his, and whispered, “You already are”
Han smiled, lazily and crooked, and then he added, “Also… you definitely ruined my backseat forever”
You laughed, breathless and full of something bright and warm and real. “Worth it, tho” you say.
“Guess we’ll just have to use the front seat next time”, he grinned.
You laughed harder this time, still tangled together, still flushed and bare and glowing. And then, you realized:
You might be completely fucked up
But maybe… you were exactly where you were supposed to be.
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How do you think angry sex with Chris would go? Like, after a fight, maybe a jealousy fit? We all know he is hella respectful, but I truly believe in this case his mouth is spitting fire. The degradation is on another level, he'd say and do the most messed up shit. Of course, afterwards, he would be a puddle to your feet.
synopsis: Chan seems to think you and Jisung are a little too close.. and he gets a little jealous…
tags: smut, afab!reader, possessive (lowkey kinda toxic chan i think. idk but he’s very possessive), dacryphilla (? reader cries a bit)
a/n: idk what to think of this? I lowkey hate it lol, but let me know what you think!
You, Jisung, Minho, and Chan are hanging out in Jisung and Minho’s shared dorm. You’re currently curled up on the floor near the coffee table, practically leaning into Jisung as the two of you share a ridiculous story from when you went out to eat earlier that week. His hand brushes your arm while he mimics someone’s voice and you double over laughing.
Across the room, Chan watched. He’s sat on the couch, one ankle resting on his opposite knee, jaw tight, arm sling over the back like he’s comfortable—but he’s not. His eyes flick to you, then to Jisung, then back to you again.
Youre laughter is too.. free. Jisung is sat way too close. And you haven’t looked in Chan’s direction once in the past ten minutes.
He tells himself it’s nothing. You love him, not Jisung. But the way that you tilt your head at him with that soft smile, it stabs at something hot and unsettling in his chest.
You finally—finally—glance over to him. Chan’s gaze doesn’t waver. The look in his eyes is a little darker than usual, hooded and unreadable, but you don’t comment on it. You just offer a soft smile before standing up.
“I’ll be right back,” you say, the words directed more towards Jisung than him, as you head your way down the hall towards the bathroom.
The second the door closes behind you, Chan pushes himself to stand and quietly slips out of the room following right behind you.
You’re halfway though washing your hands when there’s a soft knock on the door. “…It’s me.” comes Chan’s voice.
You blink, staring at the closed door.
“Can you let me in?”
Your stomach flips, you unlock the door and crack it open. Chan doesn’t wait, he pushes inside and shuts in behind him, and it locks with a click.
“What the hell was that?”
You narrow your eyes, “What was what?”
Chan scoffs, “You two were all over eachother. What the fuck was that about?”
You roll your eyes, “He’s just being nice.” Chan stops in his tracks, jaw clenched, eyes dark.
“Don’t play dumb with me. I know what you were trying to do.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not allowed to laugh with our friends? Am I supposed to walk around with my head down so no one gets the wrong idea?”
“I’m not stupid. You were flirting back.” Chan whisper-yells, keeping his voice low so that the two in the living room don’t hear him.
“I wasn’t even flirting. You’re just being insecure,”
In one second he closed the space between you two, hand gripping your jaw firmly, tilting your face so you had no choice but to meet his furious gaze.
“I’m not being insecure, but if that’s what you think, fine. But don’t you dare act like you didn’t know what you were doing in there.”
You inhale sharply as your back hits the counter. “Chan..”
He bites his lip, “I just want you to remember who you belong to.” His mouth crashes onto yours before you can even think of a response, a mix of anger, frustration and desperation. His hands grip your hips, backing you into the counter and lifting you onto the counter like you weigh nothing.
“You want attention so bad?” He hissed against your mouth, “You’re gonna get it. Every. Fucking. Inch of it.”
You gasp gassing his lips as the cool marble meets the backs of your thighs and he swallows it greedily. His hands are already under your shirt, skimming your waist, pressing your bodies closer.
“You think I didn’t notice the way he looked at you?” he mutters against your mouth, dragging your shirt over your head. “The way you leaned into him?”
Your jeans are gone before you even realize he’s unbuttoned them, you tug at his shirt in retaliation, teeth grazing his jaw as he yanks it over his head and throws it somewhere behind him.
One hand slips between your legs as his mouth trails down your neck, teeth grazing your skn. You squirm beneath his hands, heat pooling fast and thick into your stomach.
You whimpering when his hand slips under the elastic of your panties and his fingers rub against you slick folds. He smirks against your neck. “That’s right. Only I get to touch you like this, make you this wet.”
“You like making me jealous, don’t you?” he growls. “You like when I lose control over you.”
You shake your head, breath ragged as you try and grind your hips against his fingers. “I don’t—I wasn’t trying—“ You cut yourself off with a moan as he presses one finger into you. You pull his closer by the front of his hoodie to try and connect you lips again.
Chan groans in response, deep and desperate. “You’re mine,” he grits out, finger quickly thrusting in and out of you, curling every so often to hit that one spot. “Say it.”
His words were filthy and his tone was mean. You let out a strangled moan, “Yours.. I’m yours.” you whisper. But the sudden loss of his fingers as he slides them out of you makes you whine, hips instinctively changing his hand.
You barely have anytime to catch your breath when you feel him slide into you and you grip his shoulder with a loud moan.
“That’s it. Louder.”
You let out chocked moans and whimpers of his name again and again, tears begin to run down your cheeks and your voice cracks as he thrusts into you with a ruthless rhythm. “Look at you,” he groans, lifting a hand to gently wipe your tears away. “So needy for me now.”
You bite your lip when you feel his tip graze onto your sweet spot, tucking your head down to his shoulder. His fingers tangle in your hair to pull your head back up.
“Don’t hide now, baby. You wanted this. Acting like a brat all night so that i’ll fuck you like this, yeah?” You shakily nod against his neck in response.
He gives a sharp tug that pulls a loud moan from your lips. So much for trying to be quiet, there’s no way they didn’t hear that, but at the moment, you couldn’t care less.
He leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Good girl. Let everyone hear you, baby.” His voice send a shiver down your spine. He shifts slightly, adjusting your legs so that your thighs are wrapped tightly around his waist. The new angle has him driving harder and deeper into you, and you can help but grind your hips down against him, desperate to meet every thrust.
His hand grips your hips, holding you in place like he’s afraid you’d disappear. Every thrust is rough, angry, desperate. He makes you feel every word, every breath.
You voice starts to falter a bit and your legs tremble around him. “You gonna cum for me?” he groans into your ear, “Cum on my dick baby, c’mon.”
You let out a moan and your body trembles with your release. Chan keeps thrusting into you as your legs fall slack around him, no longer able to hold themselves up. “Please—too much.” You whine as your nails dig into his arms. “Chan—“
“You can take it. Just a little more.” He grunts. Each snap of his hips sending an overwhelming wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. You feel the pace of his hips falter against you and his voice cracks with each hushed moan that escapes his lips.
“Fuck. I’m so close-“ he breathes. You lean in, pressing your lips to his in a desperate kiss, the two of you swallowing each moan that escapes each others lips.
“Come inside me.. please,” You whimper against his lips. Chan lets out a strained grunt in response, his thrusts growing faster, more desperate as he chases his own pleasure. One hand drops between your bodies, and his fingers rub at your clit in harsh, relentless circles. The overstimulation makes your breath hitch and you cry out as you feel another climax quickly building.
His hips still, and you feel him twitch inside you as spurts of warm cum begin to coat your walls. The sensation of him releasing inside you sends you spiraling all over, your climax crashes over you as your legs tremble against the counter.
There’s a long silence filled with nothing other but the sound of your heavy breathing. Then you feel his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you close.
“I.. You know I didn’t mean that right?” Chan murmurs into your neck, voice hoarse and wrecked with emotion. “I was just…fuck. I was jealous. I’m sorry. I took it out on you, and I shouldn’t have.”
You don’t answer right away, your body still trembling. You finger find their way into his hair, gently threading through the strands. “I know,” you whisper. “But really, I wasn’t trying to do anything.”
He pulls back enough just to look at you, guilt flooding his eyes. “I know, I know. I just.. the thought of anyone even looking at you like that, touching you..” He trails off, jaw clenching as he presses a kiss to your temple.
“It messes with my head.” He admits softly, “But it’s not your fault. I just can’t loose you. And the thought of someone else even trying just—I’m sorry.”
“You’re not gonna loose me.” Your voice is a bit hoarse, but there’s no hesitation in it. The reassurance seems to calm him a bit and he nods. He finally pulls put, breathing still a bit shaky. His fingers lazily trace your thigh as he watches, completely hypnotized as a slow, messy is of both yours and his cum begins to slowly drip out of you and down onto the counter.
“Fuck..” he mutters, low and gravelly, thumb brushing your inner thigh, almost in awe. “Look at that…”
You chest still rises and falls with each shaky breath you take as you glance down than back up to watch as he steps away and grabs some tissue for you (and to clean the counter).
You smirk, “You think Jisung will be mad that we fucker in his bathroom?”
Chan lets out a breathy laugh and his eyes flicker to yours. He leans forward, kissing your collarbone.
“Oops,” he murmurs, voice low and smug and clearly not sorry in the slightest.
“It’s no secret, i’m sure they heard,” His words send a flush down your neck. “I’ll just turn the fan on.”
You laugh, quiet and breathlessly, taking the tissue he offers you to clean yourself up while he cleans the counter.
If you’d like to be put on (or taken off) the taglist, feel free to let me know
@yaorzu-blog | @pixie-felix | @compersian | @tshyn | @kittenchaos2024 | @lze325
Can you give us skz bf when they find out a second member has a crush on the reader
ᙏ̤̫ ˘˘˘ skz reactions when another member likes you (nsfw)
𓈃 ★ CHAN
Chan wasn’t by any means possessive— at least not outwardly. He’d smile whenever the members would buddy up with you. They’re practically his family, after all. And you were the love of his life, why wouldn’t he like to see all of you get close? It’s only when he notices that Hyunjin has taken an extra liking to you. Going the extra mile to help you, laughing a little too hard at your jokes, and Chan especially noticed how his eyes would trail up and down your figure each time you turned around. Suddenly, Chan was biting his lip and narrowing his eyes. You were so obvious too… it made Chan wonder how you hadn’t noticed. Despite your oblivion seeing Hyunjin toy with you while you just smiled innocently made him want to pounce across the table at Hyunjin any chance he could.
It tipped over the edge when you wore that low cut top; the one he begged you not to wear yet you did anyway. That’s when Chan nearly lost his shit. He’d catch Hyunjin shamelessly eyeing those pretty tits of yours, the way they spilled from your top each time you bent forward. Chan was furious. So that night while Hyunjin was the only one home beside the two of you, Chan pressed you right against the door and fucked you as hard as he could. His goal was to send the message that Hyunjin could never have you. Your pretty moans slipping through the cracks of the door while he held your wrists above your head, going the extra mile by loudly boasting how you were all his.
“You’re mine— got that? No one else will ever fuck you this good. Isn’t that right, sweetheart? Tell me how good I fuck you, go on.
𓈃 ★ LEE KNOW
You could never really know what he was thinking. He was unpredictable; one day he might be the most loving, doting, perfect boyfriend out there… the next he could have you strip for him so he could bend you over his knee and spank the shit out of you. It’s the best of both worlds! It was surprisingly you who first noticed Seungmin’s lingering stare on you! You caught him staring at you one too many times for it to be a simple coincidence. The thought excited you because you knew exactly how Lee Know would react if he found out. You knew the games he played. So you decided to get a head start. Staring by returning the stares with Seungmin to fluster him, ultimately making Lee Know gawk at the two of you in utter shock. He’d bite his lips as he’d watch you pat Seungmin’s fluffy hair and place your neatly manicured hands on his knee. Lee Know caught on quick; he just didn’t bother to say anything, daring to see how far you’d go.
It was about a week into your little game when he finally snapped. The sight of your fingers swiping at something on Seungmin’s lips, swiping something away with care. Your nose so close to the younger boys— Seungmin was clearly blushing, enjoying the proximity. Meanwhile, Lee Know? No, that man was seething so he just outright said something, immediately placing a veined hand at the back of your neck and pushing you roughly against the dining table, making both you and Seungmin gasp loudly. However, your shock melted quickly into eagerness as you felt his hard-on press against your inner thigh; you also felt Seungmin’s piercing gaze as Lee Know practically growled into your ear.
“You must think you’re so clever, yeah? Taunting me like that… since you have taken such a keen interest in ‘Min, why don’t you show him how well you take me, hm?”
𓈃 ★ CHANGBIN
When Changbin first found out Chan had a crush on you, he was pouty. Adorable little lips jutting out, shimmery brown eyes fluttering each time with annoyance whenever he caught the two of you even just simply chatting. Changbin did not at all like whenever the two of you were left alone, maybe it was a bit toxic but does it matter? And it totally didn’t help that you were slightly feeding into his jealousy; always boasting about ‘Chan this’ and ‘Chan that.’ Poor boy was practically scowling whenever he even saw Chan enter the room. You teased Bin because he was cute when he was mad— you also teased him because you liked the sex you’d get out of him. The toe curling, jaw dropping quickies he’d give you each time he even felt an ounce of jealousy run cold in his veins. How his stamina seemed to grow tenfold whenever he thought you spent a little too long with Chan. Sex when Changbin was jealous, to him, was a reminder that you were his; to you it was euphoric because he was so rough and so whiny with you.
He currently had you bent like a pretzel, knees in your chest, ankles dangling beside your cheeks with his strong hand desperately gripping the pillow beside your head. This was the third time today he’d fucked you into the mattress— but it wasn’t his fault! You were pushing his buttons… this particular moment stemmed from how you had mentioned how toned and big Chan’s arms were. Changbin was quick to drag you by your elbow into the closest room, laying you on the bed and purposefully leaving the door unlocked. He hoped Chan could hear the way the headboard smacked violently against the wall; how you only moaned his name— Your Binnie! He couldn’t wait till later so he could show off the bite marks and scratches you’d left on his bicep, hoping to flex them around the dorms just for Chan to see. The entire time he would whisper to you in gentle whines how he didn’t like how Chan was looking at you. Or the way you were talking about him. Especially how you talked about his muscles. Definitely not that.
“Chan doesn’t have sh-shit on me, yeah, baby? Tryna steal— steal my girl, fuck. He can’t have you. You’re mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.”
𓈃 ★ HYUNJIN
Hyunjin… Let’s just say he temporarily despises whoever dares to crush on his girlfriend! Dirty looks, possessive touches, hickeys along your neck and collarbone that would be way too hard to hide with concealer. The person in question happens to be Jeongin, constantly giving the poor boy dirty looks despite the younger trying his best to avoid you for this very reason! But Hyunjin just doesn’t like knowing how he felt for you. He did not like it at all. So whenever Jeongin would come around Hyunjin was quick to drape his jacket over you and wrap a protective arm around your shoulder, maybe even bringing the two of you into a corner (though not at all hidden) just to kiss you. And he’d silently enjoy when he felt Jeongin’s jealous eyes watching as Hyunjin worked his tongue into your mouth and his hands under your shirt.
You’d tell Hyunjin to relax, although your cheeks were red and your thighs were pressing together for a bit of friction; eyeballs darting toward Jeongin who pretended to be busy with something else on the living room couch, though the apple of his cheeks were rosy and his pants seemed to be getting a tad bit uncomfortable. Hyunjin would simply scoff at you and decide to kiss down your neck instead, making sure to groan just enough to make Jeongin bite his lips. Maybe he doesn’t go the extra mile and put his fingers in your sweet little cunt like he wants to but he definitely riles you AND Jeongin enough to end this little hangout short.
“Did you see him staring at you? He’s so jealous, it’s funny… now spread your legs please, love.”
𓈃 ★ HAN
Jisung would lowkey get mad. Like? You’re clearly his girl, who do they think they are even daring to have a crush on you? So when Jisung finds out cute little Felix has a crush on you he smiles every single time he sees the poor younger boy; it’s not a nice smile either. It’s like he’s smiling to hide the pure anger he feels, his lips upturning almost creepily. It gets to the point where you softly wack his forearm and tell him to stop, red cheeks aglow from slight embarrassment. But Jisung does not give a singular shit, instead eyeing the boy longer. And god forbid you and Felix so much as make eye contact because Jisung will make it know how unhappy he is with that.
He wouldn’t try anything right then and there, nothing more than harsh squeezes of your thigh from beneath the table, maybe even snide remarks towards poor Felix. But the second the door to your shared home is closed he has you backed up against the nearest surface and is inhaling your breath like it’s his own. Lips on your neck, beneath your reddening ears, nipping at the skin like a starved man. It’s not so much as a jealousy thing as it is a dominance thing; proof that he really is yours!! That you chose him and not Felix, which only makes him smile in the kiss and slip his hand into your panties unexpectedly. The moans you let out as he fiddles with your clit only serves as further proof that he is yours, and you are most definitely his.
“Love you, my baby. Looked so pretty tonight even Felix was staring… too bad you’re mine, haha. Ah, stay still let me see your pretty face while I touch you… that’s it.”
𓈃 ★ FELIX
You were actually the one to tell him about Han’s crush on you. You heard from Hyunjin’s loud mouth that Han had been crushing on you for months; to which Felix literally giggled. He was by no means jealous, in fact he was flattered for you. Felix thought of himself as the luckiest man ever because he has someone that others want yet you chose him! It’s actually so sweet when he pressed a soft kiss against your lips, his warm, freckled skin practically melting into you as he placed his gentle hands along your jawline after hearing the news. Felix adores you, he understands why someone else would as well and he also trusts his friends to respect him and keep that shit to themselves!
The thought of another man wanting you only made Felix fall for you harder. You had options yet he was your first pick. So to show you how appreciative of that he is he’s pampering you. Spreading you out on the bed, you’re wearing that new lingerie set he bought you, lace flowers sewn into the panties with ribbons as white as snow. Felix is tender with you while he kisses you, small hands on your wrists as his messy blond hair tickles your tummy. He’s sensual and slow— not to be a tease but because he wants to make this feel special. His plump lips are grazing over your clothed pussy, hums deep enough to make your head spin. He savors every moment of this, thinking about how lucky he is that you’re his.
“Tonight is all about you, sweet girl. Promise to make you feel so good… so lucky to have you. Thank you for being with me.”
𓈃 ★ SEUNGMIN
One jealous son of a bitch. Seungmin seems to always catch other members staring at you a little too hard, seeing their eyes on you or how they licked their lips around you. But it was Lee Know who always had his eyes trained on you, watching you walk— even when you were around Seungmin! And it was pissing Seungmin off. He didn’t know if he was purposely trying to annoy Seungmin or if he was unaware; either way Seungmin was practically grinding his teeth together at the thought of Lee Know ever having a crush on you. But in a weird way Seungmin couldn’t even blame him— sure was he pissed that Lee Know even thought about you like that? Hell yeah. Was he surprised that other people found you attractive? No, not at all. Because it’s true. So in a way Seungmin related to Lee Know, chuckling at the thought after a while. And that’s how this idea had blossomed.
Seungmin had been fingering you for a little over half an hour, edging you on with a sadistic smile and his big brown eyes trained on the way your face squished at the feeling of your approaching orgasm. Your shivering hands rested on his shoulders, moans loud in the night. Seungmin left the door wide open so his roommate, Lee Know, would be able to hear every little sound you made; it worked like a fucking charm! Lee Know was sitting wide eyed in his bed just down the hall, his own bedroom door open a crack. His cock straining in his pants as the sound of Seungmin’s wet palm slapping against your swollen clit filled the room. Lee Know didn’t know whether to say something or to close the door and wish it were him pleasuring you instead. Seungmin loved that thought— so much so he had to whisper it to you, mouth right by your ear. The only thing was his “whispers” were loud enough for Lee Know to hear perfectly, every crisp syllable.
“D’ya think Minho heard you, sweetheart? Bet he wishes it was him touching you like this… bet he wants to touch you like this. He can’t reach the best parts of you like I can, baby, trust me. He doesn’t know this pretty body like I do.”
𓈃 ★ JEONGIN
Three words; jealous, whiny baby. He’s jealous, what else can I say? As soon as he hears from Chan that Changbin has a crush on you— his girlfriend —he’s seething. He immediately runs to you, whining into your arms as his weight crushes you into the bed, pouting into the soft crook of your neck, inhaling your faded perfume as he spoke. You’re feigning sympathy, asking questions you knew would tick him off, playing with his thick, conditioned hair as you did so just to tease him more, “Oh yeah? Bin likes me? How cute, how cute.” And, let me tell you, Jeongin is not amused by you at all. His bottom lip jutting out as he lifts his head and gives you the nastiest glare, big hands gripping your hands that were once in his hair. But it’s especially when Changbin comes in to ask you two what you want for dinner (though really he just wants to talk to you) that Jeongin silently loses it. Before you can even properly answer the older male Jeongin is pushing him out the room, locking the door behind him.
And now he has you laid on the mattress with your own panties pathetically shoved into your mouth as a make shift gag, holding his phone in front of your face. He’s recording, clicking his tongue and letting the camera scan up and down your sweaty, red marked body as he buries his cock between your thighs. He’s mocking you now, asking you questions with that same tone of understanding, feigning sympathy for the way his dick is splitting you open. Taunting you by saying he’ll send the video to Changbin to “prove a point,” and you’re practically sobbing from both pleasure and embarrassment! But it’s okay he won’t send it, he’ll keep it all to himself… you’re all his!
“What do you think, babe, should I send it? Think he’ll like it… no? Aw, what a shame. Shh, don’t cry, I know it feels good, shh.”
[ 𝗆.𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ] 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾:𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 !𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗉𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 😭
I have tried my absolute best not to seek financial help online, especially when our collective focus should be aimed towards the welfare of our Palestinians, Congolese, and Sudanese brothers and sisters. I truly have considered countless options before resorting to asking for monetary assistance but I no longer have the means to keep myself alive and my little family afloat. Following my father's death almost three years ago due to colorectal cancer, I was diagnosed late last year with Stage 2A breast cancer.
There's an even elaborate explanation on the fundraising page that I will be attaching in this post. Please, take some time to read it. I am our family's breadwinner, and I am only asking for monetary assistance because I no longer have a job/source of income nor is my previous company willing to shoulder my medical expenses. I am left to fend for myself and I have used all of my savings to afford numerous physical/health examinations and the prescribed medication.
I am going to attach photos of how disfigured my right arm now is, the evident lumps/tumors on my armpits and if you want proof of how the cancer affected my breasts, please directly message me. I don't think I can explicitly share the photos here. But to put enough context, my left breast shrunk into at least 1/3 of its original size.
I am sincerely sorry for being a bother, but if you have the means to donate to my fundraising post, please do. I badly needed all the help I can get so I won't be summoned to court and would be able to afford surgery on time. If you cannot donate, please kindly share this post. If you have any other questions, please reach out to me through direct messaging. This is my only account (I will probably reblogged this on my side blog as well) so please, if you see someone using my photos, alert me. Thank you. Please understand, too, that I will take a bit of time to respond because I am struggling to grasp my phone/only typing using my left hand. Thank you, and please consider helping me.
may we all bloom
“Remember… you’re my girlfriend,” he whispers into your ear.
It lets shivers run down your spine.
God, how you wished he said that in a real context to you.
👽 SYNOPSIS: Spawned at the age of thirteen—on his mission as a spy on planet earth—Jisung is made to build a bond with a human, quickly developing a tie of friendship and trust. On his 25th birthday, he is supposed to bring said creature to his home. But there’s a problem—by now, he has fallen hopelessly in love with you and there’s only one way to escape the awful mission: you need to return those hopeless feelings.
💭 CONTENT INFO: jisung x afab reader, alien/demon jisung, human reader, childhood friends to lovers, fake dating au, angst/smut/fluff, dark romance, mutual pining (they are dumb idiots), demisexual reader, there’s only one bed, perv jisung but reader isn’t any better lmao, based on the meme of jisung “spawning” as a teenager and a dream about an alien abduction I had in 2020, also a huge thank you @ lotus for inspiring + encouraging me to continue working on this story so make sure to check out her fic otherwordly, warnings and smut tags under the cut
🫧 WORD COUNT: 10.9K
🛸 CONTENT WARNING: (heavier topics since it’s dark romance, also contains spoilers) kidnapping, alien abduction to experiment on humans, demon powers, mention of death threats, pervy behaviour (panty stealing)
⛓️ SMUT: dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, mind reading (consensual), slight bondage, praise kink, marking, slight spit play, creampie, name calling (baby, angel, good girl, love, slut, whore)
The characters do not portray any of the skz members in real life, the names are just used for fiction. Minors do not interact, this post contains mature topics. By reading you consent to nswf content and agree that you have read all the warnings above carefully.
Three hours
“Sometimes I feel as if I don’t belong in this world.”
Jisung’s hand comes to a halt, stopping the motion on your head for a second. Your hair feels so soft colliding with his skin.
“Do you know that feeling, Sungie?”
He chuckles. Out of embarrassment. Nervousness. You name it.
“What do you mean?”
You get up from your position—your head in his lap—now, taking the seat next to him on the sofa instead.
“You know… like an alien almost.”
He believes his heart suddenly stops.
“No,” Jisung exhales, “I-I don’t know what you mean.”
Suddenly, you scoot a little closer again and by now your best friend believes you will actually be able to listen to his pounding heart, basically pumping through his sweater. He looks adorable like this. It was a great idea to hide all the scissors in your shared apartment and Jisung is simply both too lazy and too introverted to make an appointment at a hairdresser which works quite well for your advantages.
But not for his.
Especially, when you once again look at him like this before bringing your hand to his head, disheveling the strands. His hair is even softer than that innocent look on his face—which is surprising for two reasons.
First, Jisung practically killed his hair by an endless cycle of bleaching and dyeing it black and bleaching it again in a way too short span of time, sending any hairstylist into cardiac arrest. But it’s still beautiful and not as fried as you would have expected it to be.
Second—and this is the part that you are unaware of—Jisung is anything but innocent. Quite frankly, he’s basically the polar opposite of that term.
Not by choice, though.
He’s a victim of his own destiny after all.
“You’re a nerd, a fucking weirdo like me, Sung. You can’t tell me you’ve never felt like an outsider,” you tell him with a smirk, nudging his shoulder in the process.
But he doesn’t really react the way he usually does.
Something seems to be off today. Strangely off.
“You said alien, not outsider,” he says, keeping his gaze on the show that is playing on the bright screen in front of him.
You catch the remote in your hand, turning off the TV.
That’s when Jisung looks at you. But mostly because he’s pissed off that you’re switching his focus on the conversation now.
He doesn’t want to talk to you about this. Not now.
Any other day would have been fine but he gets even more nauseous thinking about the consequences of the clock reaching midnight will have.
“I meant the same,” you continue. You take a sip from your lemonade, before placing the bright pink strawberry beverage back on the table in front of you. “Don’t put too much thought into what words I choose to describe similar things.”
You can see Jisung rolling his eyes. His arms are crossed in front of his chest—his very much muscular chest that he’s hiding under the thick sweater. The fact he’s been hitting the gym regularly again these past weeks makes you almost start drooling at the thought right here.
Yeah. That’s the other issue.
You don't only find your roommate and best friend absolutely attractive but also have a massive crush on him.
Something tells you that he feels the same. You suppose, at least, judging from the way he looks at you when he believes you don't notice.
Or the fact he always buys that strawberry-kiwi flavoured lemonade for you from the convenience store right across the street.
Or how he always makes sure you drink enough water besides that, eat your meals, get enough sleep—including cuddles with him whenever another one of those awful nightmares is haunting you.
Jisung makes dinner—aka instant ramen—for you whenever you’re too exhausted after work.
He encourages you to make appointments at doctor’s offices that are long overdue.
He holds your hand when you cry, he holds your hand when you laugh.
Jisung picks up dandelions he sees on his way home, knowing they are your favourite flowers.
I don’t care that they are considered to be weeds. They can grow anywhere, no matter the surroundings. They don’t give a shit and I love that, you’d always explain. And the way they shapeshift, not caring what others think.
Your best friend takes care of the apartment whenever you’re too tired—although he’s the most chaotic person you know.
He does the laundry, even separating the colours—yeah, unbelievable, considering he’s a man!
Speaking of laundry.
That’s where another, darker hint of him possibly having a crush on you comes into play.
You believe it started a few years ago, some time during college, but it has happened more frequently the past few months.
It’s not a big deal, you know that washing machines sometimes swallow socks and other smaller, thinner stuff.
But it can’t be a coincidence that a lot of your panties go missing, can it? Or that they take a lot longer to be washed than other pieces of clothing, right?
Especially those tighter, prettier ones. The ones that are reserved for special occasions that, well, don’t really happen but they still make you feel absolutely attractive wearing them from time to time.
Just a couple of days ago—while doing the laundry this time—you went into Jisung’s room to grab his dirty clothes from his hamper and found three or four of your worn panties hidden between his sweaters and jeans.
In addition to that, some of them were possibly a bit different than how you remembered them to look like when you discarded them—now decorated in… well… his cum.
If it was anyone else, you’d be disgusted and it perhaps sounds problematic to an outside person but since you trust him so much, you don’t care.
You feel embarrassed to admit it but for some reason you feel flustered and may have, possibly, thought about him coating your used underwear in his juices while you were inches deep in your cunt with your own fingers.
Maybe. Just maybe.
However, that’s why you want him to make the first move. You want to know that he’s serious about it before you confess anything and either those accusations are wrong or he’s just generally… weird. Pervy. Whatever.
Or doesn’t want anything serious. Which is very reasonable.
But you’re not up for casual sex, never have been. You don’t judge people craving intimacy without a special bond but after trying it some time in college, you decided you live better with meaningful encounters.
Well. Those encounters have been non-existent for some years. To be specific—since you realised how much in love you are with your weirdo roommate.
“Can we just go on with the movie?”
Right. You’re still here with him.
God it’s fucking embarrassing that those little thoughts have your heart running a marathon and you intuitively pressing your thighs together.
But Jisung doesn’t notice.
“Yeah, you are weird. Weirder than me,” you reply.
Jisung doesn’t say anything but you’re not waiting for a reaction. He’s probably stressed from all the work. His new job has been sucking all the light and life out of his soul, almost turning him into a career demon.
Since you feel bad about that, you decide to grab the remote, continuing the movie.
You can practically feel the anxiety that is shooting out of his body, filling the whole living room in a tense atmosphere.
You’ve probably gone too far. Fuck.
“Sungie?”
He sighs, since he’s not really in the mood for any more questions from you today. He just wants to get this over with. “Yeah?”
You hear the annoyance, the constant stress that is crawling under his skin and how it’s reflected in his quiet voice. So, you make sure to be extra sensitive.
“I’m glad you’re here with me. I’m sorry if my words hurt you. I just wanted to tell you how comfortable and safe I feel around you since you never judge me for being… different.”
Fuck.
This just makes him feel even more horrible.
You probably won’t think that way anymore once the clock strikes midnight.
“I’m… I’m very glad to have you, too, Y/N.”
His heart aches.
He’s definitely the worst living being in this whole universe.
Thirty minutes
You’ve fallen into a deep slumber but Jisung doesn’t care. It’s quite the opposite. There’s nothing better on this planet than having you snuggled up in his lap, your quiet and peaceful little breaths filling the room.
You trust him with your whole heart. Whatever it is—you’ll always feel comfortable around him. He’s your anchor when the floods are dragging you away from the shore right into the deep ocean.
What a shame he will destroy everything in less than half an hour.
All those years.
Those years of trust.
Of familiarity.
Of friendship.
Of something that could have become love, perhaps.
Jisung doesn’t need to worry anymore if you return his silly little feelings. Not if he’s the one to demolish that tight bond in the next hour.
He hears a vibrating sound coming from next to his seat on the couch. His eyes switch to his second phone, screen lightening up in the dark living room.
[Boss 23:32]: The ropes and chains and all you need are in the box we sent you. Any more questions?
He could burst out into tears at the spot. But Jisung will have enough opportunities to cry out his heart later.
He hates this.
He hates everything and everyone.
This whole universe is a shitshow for throwing him into a destiny like this.
Although he’s asked his evil boss a thousand times, Jisung won’t give up. He loves you too much for this. There has to be some type of escape.
So, he types, trying again.
[Jisung 23:34]: Can’t I just ask her to come with me?
He sees the three little dots appear and his heart might as well just rip his chest open.
Another message pops up, making his head all dizzy.
[Boss 23:34]: No. That is too risky. It has to be kidnapping just to make sure she really tags along.
Fuck.
There’s no way around this horrifying situation.
Twenty five minutes.
Twenty four minutes and fifty nine seconds.
Twenty four minutes and fifty eight seconds.
You suddenly stir around in your sleep, as you adjust your position to lay on your back and still very much on Jisung’s lap.
Your beautiful eyes open a little, just as much as they manage to do in this sleepy state and enough for you to see your best friend above you.
“Sung?”
God. His heart is built up again just to break into a tiny thousand splinters another time.
He will lose you.
If it’s not for you turning against him—which would be more than understandable—he will at least lose you to those evil bosses that have made gruesome plans with you as the main character.
And Jisung happens to be the deliverer.
“Y-You’re still awake?” you ask in your sleepy state.
Your best friend places a strand of your hair behind your ear, softly grazing over your cheek—one last time.
“Yeah, baby,” Jisung softly hums, “you fell asleep. It’s almost midnight. ‘M gonna bring you to bed, okay?”
You blink a few times, propping yourself up.
“Hm? W-What about your birthday, Sungie?”
Even in a situation like this, Jisung is all you care and think about.
“My birthday will be twenty four hours long, we’ll have enough time after sleeping,” he assures you, before he picks you up.
You fall asleep in his arms, as he carries you bridal style to your room. Luckily, you’re already in your—unfortunately very skimpy—pyjamas, so Jisung only has to tuck you under the covers and lay your little plush quokka next to you. His name is Peter. Jisung gave it to you as a present on your birthday last year.
He watches you another minute, saying goodbye to the peaceful atmosphere before it’ll vanish away.
Although you’re already deep in your slumber, you still witness your best friend placing the sweetest kiss on your cheek, before he leaves your room.
Three minutes
The door creaks open again a little later and Jisung curses himself for the noise.
Unfortunately, you notice the little sound, as you wake up and change in a seating position in your bed.
“Sung? Is it your birthday yet?” you ask, when you make out his silhouette in the distance.
“No, no,” he says, as he approaches you. You can tell by the increasing volume in his soft voice.
So soft.
So opposite to what he’s about to you.
Jisung is carrying all the supplies behind him.
In a box there’s enough chains, ropes and tapes to keep you quiet.
But he can’t do it to you.
At least not like that.
He can’t physically harm you when he already isn’t able to avert the mental hurt.
“Why are you here then? Can’t sleep? We can cuddle,” you offer.
Jisung is about to get nauseous. Fuck. This is the worst day ever.
But he can’t do anything against it. He can only try to ease the situation a little.
Well, but how do you make a kidnapping attempt comfortable for the victim?
“Don’t worry about me, baby,” Jisung says, when he reaches the edge of your bed. “Go back to sleep, yeah?”
You fall down on your back again.
“Alright… good night.”
Jisung feels bad for thinking that the position you're in enlightens two thoughts he shouldn’t have.
First, you look absolutely alluring like this. Your shorts have ridden up a bit, putting your thighs on full display for him. It’s a beautiful picture—one that lets his mind wander to the idea of having you under him, watching you drool in anticipation as you beg Jisung to kiss you, to touch you, to fuck you.
Second, you’re making it a little too easy for him to fulfill his awful mission. It’ll be anything but complicated to tie your wrists and feet together, shut your mouth with some tape to throw you over his shoulder.
There’s just one small issue.
Jisung will not be able to do this while you notice anything.
He can’t do that to you. He can’t traumatise you even more.
In all of his twelve years on this planet, Jisung has never used his demon powers against people that he loves.
Well, there’s a first for everything.
👽
You wake up on the backseat of a car. The windows are darkened, making it impossible to get even a glimpse of your surroundings.
It’s insane how fast your heart is beating and how much trouble you have getting oxygen into your lungs—mostly caused by the utmost panic that is washing over you and the restraints around your hands, arms and legs aren’t making it any easier.
You figure out that the kidnapper forgot one important thing—he didn’t cover your mouth.
However, it still takes you at least five minutes, as you listen to the sound of the engine and a song on repeat with the title Driving Nowhere thundering from the speakers, to regain power over your voice.
“Sorry– uhm– w-who are you… why am I h-here?”
He doesn’t want to talk back. But the tears are stinging in his eyes when he hears the fear in your broken words.
How could he have done this to you?
He is your best friend. The person you’re the closest with, that means the most to him. He would literally kill for you.
And now he’s hurting you instead?
Well, it’s not as if he’s ever had the choice.
That was his destiny from the beginning.
Who would have thought he would first befriend his victim and then hopelessly fall in love with them?
Jisung is the worst demon to ever exist.
But he’s never wanted this life anyway.
Maybe he can somehow justify kidnapping you once he explains that the only other alternative would have been that both your lives end here. To be fair—that isn’t really an option.
“Y/N…” he decides to call out your name. He can’t lie to you. He’s been crying about this since the car ride, that’s supposed to bring you to the portal, started an hour ago.
When the sound of his voice enters your ears, your breath hitches.
What on earth is going on?
Does this have something to do with his birthday?
It could be. But why are you restricted by ropes and chains then?
“Sungie?” your voice is so small, almost inaudible, but he still catches that sweet but terrified melody.
“I’m… sorry…”
You break out into laughter then. More like a scoff. You don’t know what to say or do.
Maybe it’s a dream. You’ve been having a bunch of weird ones these past weeks.
But something tells you it’s not. Something tells you this is reality.
“So you’re… kidnapping me?” you decide to just ask him.
“I… am. Yeah.”
He’s not even denying it?
Is this one of those little fantasies he has?
Jisung doesn’t know about it but some time ago you accidentally scrolled through his browser history when you were borrowing his computer for a work project, finding a collection of ebooks, mangas and animes all including darker genres.
There was also some adult content revolving around helplessness, hypnosis and bondage as well. It wasn’t anything too alarming, all in a consensual context but putting two and two together it’s absolutely weird now.
And, yes. You watched those videos. Of course, only for scientific purposes. Although, you may have discovered some unknown kinks of yours in the process.
However, there’s a difference between having a fantasy about something and actually doing it.
“Jesus Christ, I told you to stop consuming those weird books and shows about demons and God knows what. It seriously fucks with your brain.”
Jisung thinks his body paralyses. It’s a miracle that he can still keep his eyes on the road and his hands on the steering wheel.
You’re sure there’s an explanation behind this.
You trust your best friend too much to believe he’s been leading you on for the past twelve years to then grab you and bring you somewhere unknown. It’s obvious that he hides some secret identity—maybe he’s a spy or working for secret services and can’t tell you more and therefore has to kidnap you to bring you along to his next mission.
Jisung has been behaving suspiciously his whole life, you’ve always thought it’s funny. Especially since he seems to not grasp that you’re aware of it.
Of course, it’s fucking toxic nonetheless. It doesn’t matter if his intentions are pure, he’s scared you for life.
So, the only logical consequence is to tease him as well.
With your own weapons.
“Besides that,” you start again, “if you wanted to fuck me, you could have just told me.”
The car comes to a halt when he suddenly hits the breaks. Jisung can be glad no one is driving behind you around that hour since he would have otherwise caused an accident.
“W-What?” he asks.
“Just kidding,” you say. “I’ll go back to sleep, wake me up once we’re at our destination.”
Jisung gulps. So loud that you must have heard it.
Maybe that’s why you open your eyes again, before you start speaking, “Also, before I forget it…”
He looks at your reflection in the rearview mirror.
“Huh?”
You click your tongue.
“Happy birthday, you weirdo.”
👽
It’s a miracle but you actually manage to fall asleep again.
Well, you did. But before you were able to wake up, Jisung used his demon powers again to make sure it stays this way.
That’s how he manages to guide you through the portal unscathed and he’s so fucking glad about it, he’s close to tears again.
You’re only waking up a little while later, sitting on a bench next to none other than your best friend who's holding you in his arms. The restraints around your wrists and ankles are gone but you can still sense the tight feeling around them, no matter how careful Jisung was with you.
“Where am I?” you blurt out, hastily turning your head around, taking in your surroundings.
“Safe with me, I-I promise,” Jisung says.
The air tastes weird around here. You’re sure you’re inside a building but oxygen seems pure, as if you’re inhaling molecules at the beach—one that is far from any type of civilization. All natural.
People seem to be generally smaller here, Jisung being amongst the tallest.
Weird. You really can’t figure out which country you’re in.
You have a distant memory of the car ride earlier but what happened after that is wiped out. You suppose that Jisung brought you here, possibly by plane.
Earth seems to turn around faster, making you dizzy. Maybe you’re closer to the equator which would explain the intense speed.
But that shouldn’t be that much of a difference, right?
It’s almost as if you can feel the rotation of the massive rock that gravity glues you to spinning around.
Speaking of gravity—from time to time it’s almost as if a force is pulling you to the ground. Not strong enough for you to actually land on the floor, but you still feel it.
It’s all so… weird.
You seriously don’t know how else to word it.
But Jisung is here with you.
As ridiculous as it sounds, you feel safe with Jisung. Here in his arms. His warm breath tingles your skin whenever he pulls you closer.
You noticed the tears in his eyes minutes ago and maybe they are enough to tell you he didn’t want this oddinary situation either.
“I believe you,” you tell him.
His head snaps towards your face, as he stares at you in disbelief.
“Really?”
Well, even if you wouldn’t—it’s not like you have a choice anyway. You’re completely relying on him.
“I do. So, could you please explain to me what the fuck is going on?”
He gulps, then he nods and a few more tears spill from his beautiful dark brown eyes. God. They’ve always amazed and almost hypnotised you to some extent.
“Y-Yeah,” he hesitantly begins, “it’s gonna sound dumb and weird but please bear with me.”
When you nod, Jisung gains enough confidence to start explaining.
“We’re not on planet Earth but on an earth-like planet called ITEM 180325—yes, the name is dumb, humans chose that years ago—that is also part of our solar system.”
He watches your confused expression. You’re caught in a bad movie, you’re sure. But the first thing that comes to your mind is something else.
“Wait– isn’t our solar system made of Venus, Mars, Saturn and others?”
Jisung nods, “Yeah. ITEM 180325 is just a dwarf planet, even further away than Pluto and for some reason, humans on earth haven’t realised yet that there's oxygen and water and such here. There’s the theory that… we originated from earth, that ITEM collided with it or split apart from it years ago. I-It’s the planet where I am actually from.”
Your mouth falls agape. “What?!”
Jisung is not… human?
Your best friend chuckles, “I know, it sounds absolutely ridiculous. But it’s the truth. It explains why the habitants here look human-like, just smaller which is caused by the gravity that’s a lot more intense here.”
“And I’ve always thought you’re just not tall,” you say.
“Oh, I am tall here,” Jisung says, crossing his arms in front of his chest, earning a small nudge from you.
“Anyway, tell me more, Ji.”
He looks around, making sure no one listens to what you say. After all, the inhabitans of ITEM have mastered their skills in almost every language that is spoken on earth.
If you thought humans were great scientists and astronomers, you haven’t met ITEM’s people before. They’re much more advanced in anything technological, basically a thousand levels and years ahead.
That also explains what follows next.
He nods, “I’ve been a spy on planet earth since I was thirteen and, well, this will sound pretty bad but my main mission was to bring you here on my 25th birthday.”
You look at him with big eyes and Jisung takes one last deep breath, before he announces the worst part of this all.
“Please know that I didn’t h-have any choice to make. They threatened to k-kill both of us if I didn’t o-obey–“
“I believe you,” you cut him off.
But he instantly wents on with his rambling.
“They recruit humans h-here for… experiments. I don’t know exactly what they do but rumours say that it’s pretty bizarre and crucial. T-That’s why we’re here but– I already have a plan B how we will escape so please don’t–“
“Okay. I trust you,” you reassure him.
That’s when your words register.
You… trust him?
Seriously?
Never ever in this world he would have expected you to not detest him after what he did to you.
“Wow… I thought you would hate me after this.”
You understand him. You’ve always been an empath and you get that there was no other possibility than this.
And besides that…
He’s still Jisung.
Your Jisung.
Your best friend. Your other half. The person you trust the most in this world.
“I could never hate you.”
It’s the most inconvenient situation but you can’t control it. Your gaze flickers down to Jisung lips. God, those beautiful lips. How often you dreamt about laying your own on them…
And he notices you staring at him, as the thinnest layer of pink appears on his squishy cheeks.
But you can’t kiss him. Not here. Not now.
You still have so many questions and when the ideas start running around, doing parkour in your head, you just start speaking.
“Ji, is that… why you don’t have any… family?”
He instantly knows what you’re referring to.
Right. His alien identity.
You both still have to get used to the secret being revealed now.
“Yeah. I have relatives here but they… abandoned me. That’s why the government assigned me this horrible mission. I indeed spawned at the age of thirteen on Earth.”
You think back to how you two first met.
Eighth grade, a warm morning in early September. His tanned skin was glittering so beautifully in the autumn sun.
Jisung told you right from the start that he’s been living in an orphanage but he never seemed sad about it. It all makes sense now.
You can’t miss something that you’re not aware of.
Besides that, the love and trust he got from you and your relatives has always been enough to feed his heart.
His smile proves that he must be thinking about the same fond memories right now, you can tell—almost as if you’re communicating without any words.
“Han Jisung, Y/LN Y/N.”
A voice suddenly erupts from right beside you. It comes from a man wearing a name tag that says The President’s right hand man.
“Your appointment with the president is next.”
The man disappears again, leaving your best friend and you alone in the corridor, still sitting close together on the bench.
That’s when you see Jisung’s mood has suddenly shifted. It did a one hundred and eighty degree turn.
Fear. All over his face. You can practically feel it with your own heart.
He realises now that this might be over soon.
Fuck.
He hates himself now for never making a move on you.
Jisung could have spend hours, days, months and years kissing and loving you if he hadn’t been such a fucking coward.
“Okay, calm down, Sungie,” he hears you speak.
But he just looks at you.
“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down? How the fuck are you not stressed?!”
You grab both his arms, holding him, trying to ease his mind as much as possible.
“Because I trust you. I trust us. There must be something to stop that evil mission,” you say.
That’s when a lightbulb appears over his head, rushing away the dark clouds that had been above him just prior.
“There… there is… but I can’t expect that from you,” he says with a shy voice.
Yeah. As if you’d care.
You’d do anything to save the both of you.
You would literally kill for Jisung.
“God, stop playing around. Whatever it is, I’ll do it,” you say all nonchalantly.
He takes a deep breath, as he catches a glimpse of the palms of his hands that are lying in his lap.
“They w-will be… less likely to do experiments on you if… if you’re my g-girlfriend.”
That’s it?
You were expecting some stuff including a billion won, your first born and a fucking unicorn.
“Alright. Let’s do this, then,” you tell him.
“Really?”
Don’t get your hopes up too high, Jisung.
“Sure, bro. If that’s what it takes for me to survive, I’ll play the best girlfriend you've ever had.”
Bro.
Yeah, he should in fact not get his hopes up too high.
In the meantime, you curse yourself for calling him that.
Bro.
Well, you don’t want him to believe you have a crush on him.
Which is dumb because you, in fact, have a crush on him.
But Jisung doesn’t. You’re sure.
He’s just the kindest person and always watching out for you because you’re friends.
This doesn’t explain the laundry-incident but that’s neither the right place nor time to debate this very much arousing disaster in your head right now.
There’s another thing that needs to be discussed beforehand.
“How do we get back?”
“Hm?”
“You know, back home,” you say.
The lightbulb turns on again.
“Oh I… there’s this guy I have to find at the ceremony tonight… he’s like a spy from earth, originally from ITEM as well but turned his back against them. He has been in a situation like this and will help us. His name is Minho. We met before.”
His words fully convince you that Jisung didn’t want this at all.
This time you hear the door next to you swing open, revealing the man from earlier.
You reach for your best friend, no, fake boyfriend’s hand, squeezing it a little.
It’s gonna be okay.
You’re gonna get out of here alive and well.
The man with the name tag is suddenly next to you again and coughs, drawing your attention to him.
“Sorry to announce this but the appointment will be postponed to tomorrow morning. The president invites you to the welcome party for all the humans tonight, though.”
Oh.
You don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing and judging from Jisung’s look on his face he doesn’t know how to categorise this either.
“Here is the key card for your room. Since you seem to be a couple, we assigned you a shared room.”
👽
The dress in a teal shade doesn’t only hug your body quite perfectly but also matches the tie that Jisung is wearing. It makes sense—the president must have chosen that for the both of you.
You’re already entering the party venue, when your mind is still occupied with the view of the hotel room they have given you.
Absolutely luxurious—to an amount that it looks nothing but pretentious—with a huge king size bed in the middle. Ornaments of pure gold, shimmering diamonds and real silk are embellishing the interior.
It’s not like Jisung and you haven’t slept in one bed before, you’ve been best friends for twelve years—going on camping trips during the summer months every year—and with your current nightmares occurring spontaneous cuddle sessions have been happening more frequently.
However, this whole fake dating thing and the possibility of never seeing him again as of tomorrow, if the bosses decide to keep you for their psychopathic little experiments, it makes you wonder if this is the last possibility you get to finally do what you’ve been dreaming of for the past years.
You don’t even care anymore, you won’t let the chance slip again.
Not when you don’t know what follows tomorrow.
Or if tomorrow follows at all.
“Are you okay, baby?”
Jisung has called you by this name since some night in college when the nightmares started.
What you don’t know is that it was simultaneously when your best friend fell even harder for you. He’s always had a crush on you but his feelings hit harder on a random friday, when he picked you up from a party. You drank way too much after seeing your toxic ex at the frat house and just got emotional.
On autopilot, you dialed your best friend’s number and he immediately went there and brought you home to your shared apartment. He made sure you got sober again, made food for you and helped you get ready for bed—even brushing your teeth when you fell asleep in the middle of the process—and stayed by your side until the morning.
The first nightmare was probably caused by mixing beer, vodka and tequila together throughout the night. But the next ones followed for different reasons.
Those are the side effects of his demon powers.
Making someone he loves suffer in order to pull them closer to him. To make them cling to him.
So that he can take care of you.
It’s absolutely fucked up. But that’s how things are when you’re from ITEM.
“I’m okay, no worries,” you tell him.
You wonder if time stood still for a minute when your thoughts were running around again.
“Would you like something to drink?”
Your head snaps towards Jisung. God. You really have to calm down.
But how?
You’re fighting for your life, basically, and pretend to be Jisung’s significant other.
Being his lover is all you’ve ever dreamt of. After all, during nights of procrastination in college—which should have been spent with studying—it wasn’t unusual for you to create a sim of Jisung and one of you and make them marry each other, living their happily ever after.
Luckily, Jisung never caught you. That would have been the embarrassment of the century.
“Yeah… but water is fine,” you say.
“Of course.”
Jisung decides to copy your choice, as he tells you to wait. He walks towards the bar, asking for two glasses of iced cold water to keep you both awake.
Just when he’s about to grab the objects and head back towards you, someone stops him.
“Han Jisung?”
Strong arms instantly fill his vision. The guy isn’t much smaller than him, definitely one of the taller ones on this planet.
But how does he know his name?
“Yeah… that’s me. And you are?”
The buff man takes a sip from his bright pink glittering drink, the scents of pitaya entering Jisung’s nostrils. The liquid evaporates shimmering dust, drawing his attention to it.
Something like this would never happen on earth.
Maybe Jisung should have gotten a fancy beverage like this as well, but he needs to stay sober.
“I’m Changbin, nice to meet you.”
The name lets the lightbulb appear above Jisung’s head again.
This is good. Very good.
“Do you know if Minho is here?”
Changbin nods, “Oh, yeah. I saw him dancing with his spouse earlier. He should be somewhere around.”
“Thank you.”
Jisung takes the glasses in his hand, before he walks back to you and gives you one of them.
He doesn’t know what overtakes him—maybe the desperation, the hopelessness or his true love for you—but he gets dangerously close to you in a public setting.
All of a sudden, Jisung grabs your hand and for a second you get startled because of it.
“Remember… you’re my girlfriend,” he whispers into your ear.
It lets shivers run down your spine.
God, how you wished he said that in a real context to you.
You dearly hope your little lies will be successful enough to bring you back to earth and escape that shitshow. This whole setting is worth more than all your worst nightmares combined.
That’s when it clicks.
You’ve never cared about any label between the both of you.
Of course, you want to do things with Jisung that friends usually don’t do.
You’ve imagined him being the man next to you at the altar.
But you’ve always been okay with how everything has always been. It’s because you love Jisung so much that it doesn’t matter to you, what you two are.
You just want him close.
You just want him to be with you.
You just want him.
Maybe that’s true love after all.
Jisung’s been staring at you for a solid minute now, still holding your hand and pulling you closer. But complaining is the last thing you want to do.
It overcomes him right again.
All of a sudden, you feel a soft kiss on your cheek. It lasts a little longer than you would have expected.
“Everything’s gonna be okay, angel. I promise.”
Angel.
That’s unusual.
Jisung called you by this name only a few times.
The first one was when you fell off your bike when you two were fourteen. He rushed to you and even though he didn’t know anything about giving first aid, he still managed to make you feel better. Just him being there let the pain vanish away.
The second time was when your first boyfriend broke up with you in highschool, leaving you for the girl he told you not to worry about. When you called, Jisung was basically already at your house, bringing you a bag full of ice cream, candies and tissues without saying anything.
The third time was in college when you didn’t pass an exam you’ve been studying for for months but the professor didn’t like you. He assured you with the kindest and sweetest words, including this little pet name.
“Han Jisung, glad to have you here.”
The movie of nostalgic memories that is playing in front of your inner eyes suddenly comes to a halt.
You see your best friend taking a bow and you copy his movements.
“Mr Park. Thank you for the invitation.”
The man has a name tag on his suit jacket, saying The President’s right hand man. It’s the one from earlier.
“Oh, please, call me Jinyoung,” he says, shaking Jisung’s hands.
Jisung bows once more. Jinyoung gives you a warm smile, making you wonder how this person could possibly be involved in any of the deviant experiments.
“Your girlfriend is an asset to our whole planet. I can really imagine the two of you living happily ever after here,” he says, still keeping his gaze on you.
You thank him, feeling heat rise up to your head.
Then, Jinyoung comes a little closer to Jisung, aligning his mouth with your friend’s ear, making it impossible for you to catch his next words.
“What a shame your little fake relationship wasn’t convincing enough.”
You see Jisung freeze—his whole face and body paralyses.
“Baby?” he calls you.
“Hm?”
“Here,” he says, giving you the keycard, “why don’t you go to the hotel room, I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”
You simply nod, too confused to ask any questions. So, you just follow suit, leaving Jisung alone.
In the meantime, he gathers up all his strength and focus to do what he has to do—find the guy he is looking for.
Lee Minho.
He has a faded memory of what he looks like. They met some years ago at a meeting on earth.
Five minutes pass. Another ten minutes follow.
Jisung is giving up.
Although Changbin told him Minho will be here, he doubts it at this point. Maybe, he just didn’t want Jisung to feel any more hopeless.
“Why are you drinking water, when there’s plenty of fancy beverages to try here?”
The voice startles him. It sounds familiar.
Jisung turns his head around, staring right into the eyes of the man he’s been searching for.
“Is it you… Minho?”
“Yeah– Jisung?” he asks when he notices his old friend.
“Chan… told me to search for you,” Jisung explains.
That’s when it fully clicks. Minho realises what their older, shared friend told him.
They’ve all been in similar situations before. Minho brought his assigned human here roughly two years ago, on his 25th birthday. He fell in love with them as well, the same Netflix drama-like disaster Jisung is caught in now.
They weren’t dating either, Minho had the same stupid idea to just pretend, soon realising it’s not enough to fight against everything evil.
So, Minho is his last chance. He’s the only one who can tell him how to survive. After all, he saved his person and himself two years ago, too.
“Park said we… w-weren’t convincing. Does this m-mean the worst?”
Jisung’s palms are sweaty, his knees are getting weaker and weaker with every second.
“Well… there’s still time. I will explain the rules to you. But in order to get back to earth, you have to follow them exactly how I tell you. No chickening out,” Minho warns him.
It’s all or nothing.
“Sure. Whatever it is, I– we will do it,” Jisung says.
“You both have to work on it.”
Jisung nods, rubbing with his hands over the sides of his pants because his palms are still so sweaty. God. He’s so fucking nervous. Not about what Minho will tell him but about the whole situation and growing possibility of not being able to save you.
“So, what is it, Minho?”
The older one gets a little closer, making sure no one hears them.
“Your love wasn’t convincing enough… We had a few couples here pretending to be in a relationship or get married even. I did the same back then. But the evil force can’t be overpowered if it’s not real.”
Jisung nods, trying to catch all the words despite the deafening sound of his heart beating at the speed of light.
“This means,” Minho continues, “you should work on that, make it as authentic as possible and if you meet that expectation, the portal will open on its own. You still have a chance—at the very last when you’re at the meeting with the president tomorrow. But the sooner, the safer.”
He pulls Minho into a hug, clinging onto his friend.
“Thank you so much.”
The other man chuckles, “Not for that. See you on earth.”
👽
“So, it wasn’t enough,” you sum up Jisung’s five minute long hysterical monologue.
He came back with tears in his eyes, falling to his knees and begging you for forgiveness that he brought you into this. You shushed him up again, telling him to not be such a drama queen and that whatever’s going on can be solved.
Then, he poured his heart out, telling you about Jinyoung’s words and how he met Minho afterwards.
You have to do more than this. You have to be real.
“We weren’t authentic,” you repeat his words.
I am the most authentic, Y/N, because I am in love with you, Jisung thinks but he doesn’t say it out loud.
“Maybe… maybe not enough,” he adds.
Well. That still sounds very manageable.
You can act the best if it’s not acting, after all.
Showing Jisung affection isn’t the hardest thing in this world. Sure, you haven’t done it before, haven’t made a serious move so far because of your stupid crush on him but now it’s live or die and you can at least blame it on that.
A win-win situation.
Not really. But you keep telling yourself exactly that.
“We can work on that,” you say.
“H-How?” he shyly asks.
“We… could kiss. For instance,” you suggest, slowly nodding your head.
Jisung’s eyes are practically falling out.
“N-Now?”
If not now, when? Does he want to wait until tomorrow?
You doubt it’s a good idea to randomly start a make out session when meeting the president for the first time just to be escorted to the experiment building.
“Why not? You said the portal might open on its own when we’re convincing enough. We have no time to lose,” you remind him.
Jisung nods and just when he’s about to take a step towards you, he decides to take off his suit jacket as well as the tie.
He pulls at the teal fabric, loosening it before he throws it right on the chair a few meters away.
Oh, God.
You’re doomed.
With long strides he approaches you, before he grabs your face with both his hands.
“Are you sure you want this?”
It’s the only chance he’s got.
It’s the only chance you’ve got.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
For a second Jisung believes this isn’t about pretending anymore.
Especially, when he finally presses his lips against yours and you instantly give in, practically melt and then drown in his hold. Your hands copy his motions, as you pull him closer. He instead places his own on your hips, pulling you closer.
You can’t get enough. He hasn’t even done much yet but you’re already under his spell.
Jisung’s tongue grazes over your lips next, asking for entrance which you eagerly allow him. Your own starts dancing with his, swirling around at the same pace and rhythm of your heartbeats.
He can’t hold back—his lips are leaving their place, very much against your preference, but he makes up for it when he attaches them to your jaw instead. The most beautiful patterns wander down your neck, before they decide to stay there for a little longer, drawing the prettiest flowers all over again, almost like a tattoo that’ll remind you of who you’ve belonged to all along.
When Jisung pulls back for a second, his eyes finding yours, you could swear they darkened by a thousand shades, almost looking—unreal, magical, demonic.
“Still not enough, huh?” he teases, like the menace he is.
His hand is keeping your head in place, index finger lifting up your chin so that you’re forced to look at him.
“Hm, we could try more, Sungie,” you playfully reply, clicking your tongue.
“More?” he asks, pretending he doesn’t know what you’re referring to.
After all, your request should be the most intimate form two souls can engage with, right?
Jisung hasn’t forgotten about the fact that you’re only sleeping with people you have a strong, romantic connection with. But he’s too shy to ask what this means and also doesn’t want to ruin the mood.
And well, in your case this shouldn’t be a hindrance anyway.
“Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about burying your cock inside me before,” you provoke him.
“H-How–“
There’s a reason Jisung hasn’t made a move on you before. It’s, well, let’s say connected to his identity of not being human.
At least he blames it on that and not the fact he’s an absolute coward.
“I caught you stealing my underwear, you creep.”
Well and that. Yeah. That was also something holding him back.
His guilty conscience.
But when he can’t be with you, he thought the idea of you would live up to it.
Spoiler: It didn't. Jisung got desperate over time and the fact he has all those deep and dark desires, a million times stronger caused by his hidden strength, didn’t make thinking logically any easier.
It did start innocently. At first, they were just thoughts. Then, you accidentally left one of your panties in his laundry basket when giving him his fresh clothes.
And well from there… it all went downhill. He tried to be as discreet about it as possible.
He always made sure to throw your panties into his own hamper after… using them for what they’re not intended to be used for.
Spoiler: He failed.
“Y/N– I’m sorry I–“
Your hand wanders up to his face now. He deserves a little teasing.
Was it wrong doing this? Absolutely.
Did it just turn you on even more? Maybe.
So, you brush over his cheeks with your fingers, as a pout appears on your face.
Jisung is terrified. He feels bad about it and you can definitely tell.
“You’re a bit of a pervert but it’s a good thing that I’m the same when it comes to you,” you whisper.
That’s when his eyes darken even further, almost making him look like a creature from another world.
Well…
“You like the idea, hm?”
Oh, fuck.
You underestimated this.
“You’re craving my hands all over you? Want me to touch you, to take care of you, angel?”
He kisses you again. A billion times more passionate than before, if that’s even possible. You give in, allow him to guide you through the movements, before you pull away.
“I want you,” you tell him and that’s all he needs to hear.
Jisung lets go for a second to switch off the big light and turn on the little lamps above the headboard instead, shrouding the room in a dim colour of red. How convenient this hotel is.
You chuckle, when he comes closer again, already busy continuing the little artwork on your neck again.
You lose track of time and space, of everything that the universe has ever come up with. Nothing matters when you’re with Jisung, he’s all you’ve ever needed and if you’re to die tomorrow, you lived the best life you could’ve ever had.
“You’re beautiful,” he says between kisses, but all you can do is whimper, as your head falls back, letting him take the lead.
“Baby?”
He disconnects his lips for a second from your skin, before he lifts up his gaze, wanting to be on eye level with you.
“Y-Yeah?”
Jisung takes a deep breath. He still has to warn you about something before you take this any further. God, he seriously prays you won’t freak out.
“Once we start… you may have noticed how my eyes turn darker… I won’t be… won’t be able to stop… there are these powers that will t-take over me and they will affect you too and–“
“I want this. I’ve wanted this for years,” you reassure him.
Whatever it is, you’re fine with it. You’re not surprised he might differ a little from humans, he’s not from earth after all.
Meanwhile, Jisung is busy trying to not scream out loud.
You’ve wanted this for years? For fucking years?
“Are you for real?”
“Yeah. I thought you’d catch the hint sooner,” you let him know.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
He tilts his head a little, bringing his hand to your face to place a strand of hair behind your ear.
A move he did so many times before but for some reason your heart skips two beats in a row this time instead of just one.
“I wanted you to make the first move… with all your pervy behaviour I wanted to make sure you’re doing this because of me and not some general thing–“
“No. Just you. It has been you all along,” he admits.
“Then… what are you still waiting for, Han Jisung?”
That’s when his eyes darken to the fullest, filling your whole vision. He looks like… something mystical. Like the opposite of an angel and you wonder if that’s the reason he chose that name for you.
“Ruin me, demon boy,” you half-jokingly say.
But since it’s Han Jisung we’re talking about, of course this only turns him on even more.
He instantly goes in for a kiss and now the feeling overtakes you completely, you feel your souls connecting—a sensation you can’t describe with any word of any language you’ve ever learnt.
It’s like he’s your gravity and you’re floating in space, getting closer to him until you become one.
Jisung’s hands are by now all over you and you wonder how long it’ll take him to basically rip that short teal dress apart, until… well… the dress leaves your body on its own.
It wasn’t Jisung who took it off you, he was way too busy pulling his own button up shirt over his head.
Which means…
“You can take off– with your mind?!” you ask, standing there in your underwear only.
Jisung admires your body for a second and when he realises you’re wearing his favourite pair of panties of yours, he fears he might just cum on the spot. God, how many times he sneaked into your room to grab that specific piece of fabric.
“Hm, I can do a lot more than that,” he tells you.
“For instance?”
“Well, just in general fuck your brains out.”
The words leave his lips all casually and you might as well swoon right here, right now.
But Jisung is faster, already picking you up—bridal style—to place you on the huge bed. The mattress shifts under your weight and moves a little more when he follows.
He gets rid of his pants next, leaving him only in his boxers. You can already see the outline of his hardening cock, straining against the fabric of his underwear. Your friend turned lover positions his upper body between your legs, parting your thighs with no effort, before his lips make the most beautiful sequel of that artwork on your neck.
And that’s when your mind goes blank.
You don’t know if Jisung helped you out of your bra, if it was his demon power or you yourself but a minute later you find yourself almost completely naked in his hold.
Jisung’s fingers are grazing over the thin material of your panties. They’re practically transparent—arousal dripping through them—which is the reason they are his favourite. He imagined you wearing these and wondered if he could catch a glimpse of your pretty pussy whenever you walked up the stairs in front of him while wearing a dress.
He could. A few times when your skirts were short enough.
But nothing comes close to having you a few inches away from him, sprawled out on the bed, begging for more.
However, Jisung takes his time. Painfully slowly, he finally slips down your underwear but keeps it not too far away for later purposes.
As if he’s controlling your mind—but you’re in fact just more than eager—you part your legs even further, granting him better access. Jisung dives right in, after spreading your pussy lips apart. His tongue collides with your clit and for a second you believe you’re in heaven.
Collecting a little bit of saliva—although you’re more than wet enough for him—he spits on your sensitive nub, just to go right back to making out with it. You’re already arching your back, gripping the sheets and begging for more.
Your head gets thrown back and whimper after whimper leaves your mouth. Just when Jisung lets out a moan himself, drowning in your delicious scents, your gaze snaps back.
He looks so alluring. Almost like an angel, a God—it’s unbelievable he is supposed to be a demon or whatever he calls himself.
“Oh, thank you baby,” Jisung coos.
“I… I didn’t say anything, did I?”
You’re confused.
You did only think that, right?
Not that you’re denying anything but you don’t remember speaking even a syllable these past minutes. All that’s made it out of your mouth have been moans so far.
“Well… not out loud,” Jisung smirks. “I can still hear you.”
“You can read my mind,” you say. “You can read my mind?!”
He chuckles now.
“Demon powers, sorry. Should I turn it off?”
“No it’s…” something I touched myself to before, you want to say but cut off your words.
“Yeah, angel? It’s what?”
Angel.
Of course.
Han Jisung, you’re a fucking tease.
The brattiest demons of them all.
“I like it… yeah,” you admit.
“Me, too.”
Then you see his tie move on its own, basically levitating towards the bed. Right from the chair where it was just mere seconds ago.
Absolutely normal, sure.
The fabric is hovering over your head now, before it comes dangerously close to your wrists.
That’s when Jisung—despite seeing that absolutely eager look on your face—gets hit with second guesses.
“Are you okay with that? Or is it weird because–“
“No, I like that, too,” you confess.
“You like that?”
The smirk that appears over his face is letting heat rush towards your face.
“Maybe a little more than just liking.”
“Hm, I can tell,” he teases you.
“How? I didn’t think that.”
“Oh, solely by the way you’re squeezing your thighs together. I would have noticed that as well if I was a human.”
His tongue brushes over his teeth, one corner of his mouth rises up a little.
“You little–“
“Nah, you’re gonna be a good girl now, yeah?”
Oh, fuck.
“What if I’m not?”
The fabric floats closer to you, slowly wrapping around your wrists until your arms get thrown over your head. The tie turns into a knot, gluing you to the metallic headboard.
“Well, that would be a pity because only good girls are allowed to cum,” he warns.
That’s how you find yourself—all obediently—right back where you were a few minutes ago. Moaning, screaming, underneath him.
Jisung flicks his tongue over your clit, all whilst two of his fingers are dangerously close to your entrance, circling around it.
The tight piece of clothing around your hands stings a little, but you have to admit that you enjoy it even more because of the sensation. Despite that, you can’t think of anything right now anyway. Not when Jisung is finally pushing his two digits it, immediately feeling you clench around him.
He wonders what it will feel like to bury his cock inside you.
You’re wondering the same, or something similar, that’s why you call out his name.
“Sungie?”
“Hm?”
Jisung looks up from between your thighs, lips and chin covered in your arousal and feels you clench around his fingers when you notice. So, he starts moving them, still listening to your words.
“What did you think about when you… stole my panties?”
He chuckles, “Exactly this, to be honest. Have you squirming underneath me. Begging me for more. Absolutely helpless and eager.”
The thrusting motions continue, he scissors you open a little, before he adds a third finger. You let out another moan, nearly not catching what he says next.
“But I also thought about… how I would make love to you.”
There’s no possibility to respond or even think about his words when he shuts you up by curling those digits in an angle that makes him reach that certain spot inside you. When Jisung feels the effect he has on you, he brings his tongue right back on your clit, drawing circles around it.
“Sung– I–“
He nods, way too busy with his tongue, attacking your swollen bud even further. The thrusting movements pick up their pace and a few seconds later, you come undone, screaming his name for dear life, gripping the headboard.
Ecstasy takes over your whole body, possessing your complete mind and soul. Jisung helps you ride out your high, decreasing his speed when he feels you get even more sensitive from his touch. He pulls out of you and you watch him lick his fingers clean, wiping away your remaining liquids on his face.
“Jisung…”
He’d thought you’d be a little exhausted from that mindblowing orgasm, but it seems as if his powers are already taking over you again.
“Yeah, baby?”
You pull him closer, another passionate kiss follows as you taste yourself on his tongue.
“Need you…”
He chuckles once again, “What do you need, angel?”
You grunt. “Your cock inside me– please–“
So, he loosens the tie around your wrist and just manhandles you around in a ninety degree turn, flips you onto your stomach with little to no strength needed.
You see his underwear land on the chair across the bed and that’s when you notice something else right beside it. There must be a reason why Jisung opted for this position—he can watch your pretty face in the mirror while railing you into oblivion from behind.
“You ready, love?”
Love.
Jisung’s stroking his length, as you’re on all fours for him, giving access to your aching heat.
“It’s been some time… since I…” you tell him.
That’s when he slows down a little, softly brushing over your entrance with the tip of his cock.
“I’ll be gentle, yeah?”
Almost unbelievable, considering those words leave the mouth of a demon.
You hastily nod, before he pushes a few centimetres in. Your walls tighten around him in an instant, welcoming him in. His size is definitely above average but you’re not surprised. After all, you’ve watched him wear those grey sweatpants with definitely no boxers underneath before.
You’re not any better than him when it comes to watching and dreaming unholy thoughts about roommates.
“Sung– you’re so big–“ you let out.
“Shh, you can take it, baby.”
You nod and that’s when he finally bottoms you out. He starts moving with a painfully slow pace but you thank him for that, as he stretches you out carefully.
“Look in the mirror,” he orders. “I want you to watch how I fuck you, I want you to see what a slut you are for me.”
Oh, God. You’re already close again. That’s what his words do to you.
His cock is stroking your walls delightfully, as you follow his demand. Your nails are digging into the sheets, holding onto the fabric for dear life while Jisung fucks you senseless.
“You look so pretty, angel. Letting me do all the work while you’re being such a good slut for me, hm?”
“Hm…” you hum in agreement.
“Don’t need to think about anything, baby. Just let me take care of you, yeah? I know exactly what’s good for you.”
And so, you do.
Jisung picks up his pace, finding that spot inside you again when he changes his angle and adjusts your position a little. Two of fingers wander between your legs, as they start to rub your clit again like his tongue did earlier.
Mindless babble leaves your lips, your brain has shut off a long time ago.
Nothing matters anymore when he’s fucking you this good.
“Baby?” he suddenly calls out for you.
You want to reply but only a moan makes it past your lips, so you eagerly nod instead.
Jisung chuckles, “I’m going to make you cum all over my cock as if it’s the only thing you were made to do.”
It seems as if he can in fact control your mind—or you’re just dangerously close to your second climax because he’s taking such good care of you.
“Need to– close–“ you cry out.
Skin is slapping against skin. Squelching sounds are filling the room. Moans definitely make it past these four walls.
“No, baby, not until you beg for it like the good whore you are,” he tells you.
“Sungie, please, please, please–“
“You can do more than that, sweetheart,” Jisung adds, knowing he’s just as close as you are.
“Please– I need to cum– can I– please?”
“Okay, okay, angel, I’ve got you, yeah?”
Your vision gets filled with stars, as the feeling takes over you, sensation spreading through your veins. It triggers Jisung to reach his high as well and after you begged him for it, he paints your walls white, shooting his thick spurts of cum into your cunt.
Everything after that is a total blur. Jisung takes care of your fragile body, cleans you with a towel before he puts you into the bathrobe he finds hanging on the wall. He tells you to use the bathroom, before he helps you sit on the bed.
You’re definitely gonna be sore tomorrow.
Once you come to your senses again, you see the brightest smile on Jisung’s face.
However, he said that that Minho guy told him the portal will open on its own when you’re authentic enough.
But there's still no portal.
How is getting your brains fucked out not authentic enough?
Well, considering the odds aren’t in your favour and your life will change forever tomorrow, become a disaster you’re caught in without Jisung, the person you love the most, you might as well just tell him the whole truth, right?
You don’t care if he doesn’t love you back.
But he’s been so honest to you about his hidden identity, felt so comfortable to share it—so you should reveal your secret too, right?
There’s never been an actual reason to not be your true self around him.
It’s okay to be different as long as we can be different together with the people we adore the most.
So, without any useless introduction, you just tell him.
“I am in love with you, Han Jisung.”
His eyes widen. Then his mouth falls agape.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Say that again.”
You smirk, “I am in love with you, you weirdo.”
He startles you a little when his lips collide with yours, sealing them in the most heartwarming kiss you’ve ever received.
Then he pulls away.
“I am in love with you too, Y/L/N Y/L.”
A shining light blinds your vision, enlightens the whole room.
There’s a portal next to you. Just appearing there out of nowhere.
You chuckle. It makes sense now.
You’ve never had to prove your love to anyone else.
True love only has to be proven to the person that’s receiving it. Over and over again.
By caring for each other.
By looking out for each other.
By being there for each other in the darkest times.
By trusting each other no matter what.
But most importantly—by showing with words what we feel.
Because when we speak things out loud, that’s when they turn into reality.
🤍 AUTHOR'S NOTE: thank you so much for reading! I was pretty terrified to upload this since it's a little darker and I have never posted something alien au lmao but it was so much fun writing. I'm very happy I continued this story despite my insecurities. I hope, you enjoyed it too. If that's the case I'd be very grateful for any kind comments and reblogs you leave. Always rember that these are the number one motivation for us authors and likes mean nothing on tumblr considering its algorithm. Thank you for considering it and have a nice day :)
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