No Yap No Life

Four years ago, when you started working as a detective for the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, you wondered if you would ever get used to the sight of dead bodies. 

The guard at the door inspects your ID badge thoroughly, his eyes darting from the picture on the card to you and back.

“I’m with the violent crimes unit,” you say, your foot tapping on the floor impatiently. Finally, he nods, letting you through.

Ever getting used to this? Now, as you crouch next to the corpse of Jung Wonho, the mere idea seems ridiculous to you. As if the sight of such lifeless, unseeing eyes could ever get less horrid. Those eyes that still carry the haunting look of realization that the life was draining out of them and there was nothing they could do about it.

“Jung Wonho, CEO of Jung Administration is questioned about his connection to the murder victim Park Inhyun, and is stabbed in the neck two weeks later. Interesting,” you note grimly.

Wonho’s office is one colossal contradiction of order and chaos. Aside from a thrown-over chair, every item sits neatly and dutifully in its place. Just another ordinary day at the job. But then there is the sea of blood in the center of the room, and the dead man lying face-down in it. It’s a clash of contrasts. ou look to the long-haired man beside you, a brow cocked.

“I don’t know, Y/n. This guy was stabbed in the neck,” your partner says, “while Inhyun was poisoned. Serial killers tend to have a set MO. That doesn’t seem to be the case here.”

You regard the victim with a frown, slowly shaking your head. “They were business partners, and now they’re both dead, Yuta. There is no way these cases aren’t related.”

You look around the office, recalling the last time you were here. The two of you questioned Jung Wonho on several emails he had exchanged with Park Inhyun, a business mogul of the food industry. He told you that besides him being in charge of the cyber security for Inhyun’s company, there had been no contact between the two. Even back then, you doubted his words, but now that his dead body lies at your feet, you’re more sure than ever that he didn’t tell you the full story back then.

He looks so miserable down there on the ground. His hands lay awkwardly next to his neck as if he was trying desperately to staunch the blood flow from his throat until the bitter end. Not that it did him any good. No, once that blade sunk into his flesh his fate was sealed. There was nothing he could do to stop the life from seeping out of him.

“Okay no offense, but you want these cases to be related so much that you’re making connections where there are none. Wonho did business with a lot of people, and Inhyun just so happened to be one of them.” Yuta pats your shoulder. “Trust your senior on this one, L/n. This is someone else’s doing.” 

You sigh, picking at your cuticles before turning to one of the officers at the scene. 

“What do you got?”

The man shrugs. “Not much, I’m afraid. No signs of forced entry or much of struggle.”

“Which means the killer was likely someone the victim knew. He let them in, oblivious to the fact that they intended to end his life,” Yuta says.

You nod. “And they must’ve known what they were doing, too. Likely overpowered Wonho so quickly he didn’t have any chance to fight back. A swift kill.” 

Your eyes meet Yuta’s, and he nods grimly, understanding the words you don’t speak. 

Whoever this killer is, they are a professional.

“How are you always here before me? I even came in early today!” Yuta says, yawning, as he enters your shared office.

Case files and loose reports lay strewn across your desk, and a filled whiteboard stands in the middle of the room. Your messy handwriting and pictures of the murder victims are connected by red arrows— an attempt of yours to understand this case better. So far, all it has done for you is give you a headache, though.

Yuta takes a seat at his desk, looking over at you as you click away at your computer. Two days have passed since the victim was found, and still, you find yourself confused with the hazy details of this case.

You shrug, trying to dig one of the reports out of the battlefield that is your desk. “You know how I get when a case is giving me a hard time. I get stressed, knowing I’ve made no progress. Work helps relieve my anxiety a bit.” 

Yuta scoffs. “You sure are your father’s daughter.”

His words make you halt in your actions. They hang precariously in the air between you for a few long seconds before he clears his throat, having realized his mistake.

“So, what are you looking at?” he asks.

Grateful for the change of subject, your shoulders relax slightly. “I know you think the murders are not connected, but look at this,” You pull out the case file you’d been looking for. “Four weeks ago—that is only several days before Park Inhyun’s murder— another man was found dead in his house. Kim Minhwa, CEO of Minhwa Electronics. That is three highly influential businessmen dead in the span of a few weeks. How can that be a coincidence?”

Your partner sighs but decides to indulge you. “How was this Minhwa guy killed?”

You scan through his file, cringing when you find the information. “Hanged from his balcony, but it says here that he was killed before that. Jesus, sadistic bastards.”

Yuta’s jaw clenches as he hears this. “That still leaves us without an MO,” he says though. “Not to mention the fact that nothing connects him to the other two victims, or am I wrong?”

If only you could look into the victims' memories. God, your job would be so much easier.  “No, you’re right. I’ve got nothing. Yet.”

Yuta opens his mouth but gets interrupted by someone entering the office. “Sorry for the interruption, Detectives. I have the forensics report for the autopsy done on someone named Kim Minhwa. I was told you requested it from the 32nd precinct.”

The man is not a total stranger to you. You know he works for the other violent crimes unit, and that he’s quite popular among your colleagues, the female ones especially so. Not that you can blame them. His raven hair and the undercut it is styled in bestows him with a razor-sharp look, that is reflected by his striking, uneven eyes. His looks create an aura of charismatic unapproachability.

“I did request it, thanks.” You study the man as he hands you the report, brows raising. “You’re a detective. Why are you playing errand boy?”

The smile he sends your way fails to reach those sparp eyes of his. “It was accidentally delivered to my investigation team instead of yours. I figured you would want it as soon as possible.”

He taps the file pointedly, drawing your eyes down towards his hands. They look rough but groomed, like a man who spends a lot of time pretending to be someone he’s not.

What might be lurking behind that pretty mask of his, you wonder? “Well, thank you then . . .?”

“Mark Lee. Detective Mark Lee.”

Those striking dark eyes of his pin you down, holding you in place. It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to tear yourself away from his gaze.

You clear your throat. “Right, thank you, Detective Lee.”

“Sure thing.” You watch him walk away, a feeling you can’t place weighing down on your chest.

Yuta’s cackling snaps you out of it. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” he says, smiling teasingly. “It’s just very interesting that the infamous Mark Lee would hand-deliver files to you just out of the goodness of his heart.” He pats your head adoringly, making you swat at him. “You should go out with him!”

You cross your arms in front of your chest. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not? I’m pretty sure you’re of a similar age, you have the same job . . . And besides, you must be the only one in this precinct who didn’t know his name! His arrest numbers are staggering. He got promoted to detective after only a year of being a patrol officer, and rumor has it that he engraves his bullets with his initials so that the perps who get shot by him and get away will know it was him. I mean come on, that’s pretty badass.”

You cock a brow at him, scoffing. “Gee. Maybe you should date him. Also, engraving bullets is weird, and it’s not ‘badass’ it’s against protocol.”

Yuta groans and throws his head back, then pretends to choke you. “God, you are such a killjoy! You know, maybe, if you got laid every once in a while you wouldn’t be so stuck up all the time.”

Your mouth falls open in indignation that is only half pretense. “I do get . . .” Well. . . “I have no interest in dating,” you declare. “Besides, it’s impossible to be a cop and date. I hardly even have enough time to maintain a social life. How the hell do you want me to find the time to date?”

Yuta shrugs. “I’m just saying . . . You obsess over every case you get, and you practically live at the precinct. It’s not exactly healthy.”

“It’s really not that serious,” you mumble. 

But as your eyes fall on the autopsy report, his words echo in your ears. When was the last time you weren’t working late? When was the last time you took a day off? Went on a vacation? Life should be about more than whichever case you’re working on at the time, but . . .

“Listen,” you sigh. “I like chasing burglars down the street. I like interrogating bitter spouses who have so clearly killed their partners. I like—” You take a surprisingly shaky breath. “This is what makes me happy. So why shouldn’t I give it my all?”

Also, your heart burns with words that ring more true than anything you’ve just said. Words, that you can’t bring yourself to speak aloud:

This is the only way you know how to keep him alive.

Sweat trickles down your neck as you pull the weight towards your chest. You exhale with every push, exhale with every pull. 

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhalte. Exhale.

In. Out.

In. Out.

Like the stab to Jung Wonho’s neck—

You drop the weight, gasping for air. Jesus, this case is starting to mess with your head. Not even the cool water from one of the dispensers helps to ease the tightness in your chest. You abandon your setup, instead jumping on a treadmill. Because why deal with this feeling head-on, when you can just outrun it instead?

You dial the intensity onto the highest setting and run and run and run. Until your lungs catch fire and your side screams for a reprieve, forcing you to slow down. Ironically, only now that you’re spent and out of breath do you feel your mind go numb, putting you a little more at ease.

“Gee, which serial killer are you on the run from?”

You startle at the voice, only now noticing the man on the treadmill next to you. You frown at him, trying to ignore the chill that runs down your spine at his choice of words. Out of all the treadmills, why did he have to choose the one right next to you? You inhale sharply, wincing as you misstep, rolling your ankle.

The man is at your side in an instant. You gasp at the warmth of his stabilizing hand around your waist and your close proximity as he turns off the treadmill.

“No need for them to take you out if you do it yourself, huh?”, he jokes the way men do when they look down on a woman. Your face heats along with your blood.

Because that’s exactly what he’s doing, looking down at you from his sharp nose like you’re a clumsy little girl who can’t even walk right. You push away from him, bringing a good few steps between you. Your eyes catch on his angular jawline, before his mouth, pulled into a condescending smirk, gains your attention.

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking,” you say sarcastically, your hands balled into clammy fists at your sides.

He scoffs. “You going to be able to get home on that?”

You grit your teeth together. How humiliating. “It’s fine. I just misstepped.”

He comes closer, his longer jet-black hair falling in his face in sweaty strands. His physique is lean yet incredibly toned, making it clear that he spends a lot of his time here. Come to think of it, he always seems to be here around the same time as you—

“Are you sure? Might want to get that checked out by a doctor.” At this point, you’re about ready to get crushed under one of these treadmills. Anything to make this torture end. You take another pointed step back from his crouched form at your feet. 

“As if you care.” Before he can say another word you step away. “Please don’t talk to me again.” 

You walk off, without looking back. Maybe it’s time you started going to a women’s gym.

Your phone rings on your drive home from the gym. You sigh, blindly fumbling around in your bag while trying to keep your eyes on the road. Thankfully, you arrive at a red light, allowing you to stop focusing on driving for a second.

You hesitate when you see the caller ID. The phone rings, rings rings—

“Hi, mom. I’m driving right now—”

“‘Hi, mom’? That’s all I get?” She nags. “How about ‘Sorry I haven’t been calling much lately. I was just really swamped with work’. You can’t even come up with an excuse these days?”

“I’m sorry,” you say, drawing out the last syllable. “I’ve been meaning to call. It’s just that I get home so late every night that I don’t want to wake you by calling anymore.”

“There it is. The excuse. You should stop working so damn hard. If that stupid boss of yours valued you he would promote you already.”

You chuckle quietly. “Actually, he recommended I take the Sergeant's exam.”

You choose not to remind her that that requires you to study for the exam, which has never exactly been your forte.

Your mother sighs contently. “Good, that’s at least something.”

You sit in silence until she asks the question you’ve been dreading to hear. The reason why you don’t call her as much as you should. 

“So, are you going to visit your poor mom down here any time soon? Or will we see each other the next time at my funeral?”

You scowl. “Mom! Don’t say things like that!”

“Then visit me, you little brat! Do you know how much I miss you down here? My friends are starting to doubt the daughter I brag so much about even exists! Oh, that reminds me! A friend of mine has a son who is a doctor. He looks strikingly handsome, too! I keep telling her that you will meet up with . . .”

You let her talk, not daring to burst her bubble just yet. Eventually, she notices your silence and, stops talking. Sighs. 

“You are too much like him, Y/n. Always working.”

“I like my life the way it is, Mom,” you say quietly.

You hear her release a heavy breath. Swallow. When she speaks again, her voice strained. 

“Just come visit me sometime, okay? I’ll make your favorite foods and show you around town. It’ll be nice.”

You blink a couple of times, your vision blurring at the bottom. Your throat works around the lump in your throat. “Mhm. We’ll see. I’ll try to call you more. I have to go now. Bye.”

If you weren’t her daughter you wouldn’t recognize the disappointment in the words that she forces herself to say with a smile. “Mhm. Bye-bye.”

But you are, so you do.

The grey sky looks down on you dishearteningly, while Raindrops splash against the windows in a rhythmic pattern. Fast food containers and coffee cups litter your desks, making the room look more like a frat dorm than an office.

“The DNA report of the crime scene shows that apart from the DNA we left on our first visit there, as well as some of the employees' DNA and the wife’s DNA, there has not been found any sample that doesn’t match these three categories,” Yuta says, biting the end of his pen.

You sigh. “Which means that the killer magically left no traces by doing what? Wearing a full-body condom? That doesn’t make any sense!” 

You massage a scar on your knee over your jeans, a hiss leaving your lips. A perp stabbed you there once, and the scar still hurts every once in a while on a rainy day. Yuta throws you a sympathetic look which you receive with a smile. It’s fine, you’re saying. He lifts his hands in defeat, scowling jokingly. Gee, sorry for worrying about my partner.

The action gets a snort out of you. 

“Anyway,” he says, turning back to his desk. “Whoever the bastard is, he’s good.”

You sip from your coffee and sink back against your office chair. “Have you called the other DNA matches in for questioning?”

“Mhm,” he nods. “Except for the wife, who I, by the way, think should be our main suspect. Look at this.” He throws a thick file onto your desk. 

You raise your brows at the stack of documents. “What am I looking at?”

“Divorce papers. As of the 5th of this month, Wonho’s wife is actually his ex-wife. The divorce is said to have gotten quite messy, which explains why Wonho’s secretary heard them fighting in his office repeatedly. The last time, you guessed it, on the morning of the day he died.”

A bitter wife takes revenge on the man who dared to leave her? You frown skeptically but decide that it’s better than nothing. 

“Fine. Let’s go pay her a visit, then. See what she has to say. Let me just quickly go down to forensics first. Then, we can go.”

He nods, taking another bite out of a burger he’s been having for lunch. “Sure thing. I’ll meet you out front in ten.” 

You push through the door of your office and are immediately greeted by the chaos that is your precinct. You halt for a second, a little overwhelmed with the sudden noise and bustle all around, suddenly glad for your shared office with Yuta. At least the two of you have your peace and quiet while working. 

Officers walk around, guiding perps into jail cells, witnesses look around nervously, and lawyers make their way into interrogation rooms. Back in your days as a patrol officer, you didn’t mind the chaos. Now, it makes your heartbeat pick up, and your chest constrict. You shake your head, quickly getting on your way.

All it takes is one moment of inadvertence as you round a corner. “Agh!”

The force of the collision sends documents he was carrying all over the place. One of his arms is propped up against the wall next to your head, keeping him from fully pushing against you as his wide-opened eyes look back at you in shock.

“Sorry! You alright?” 

Back at you looks Detective Mark Lee, a stabilizing hand on your arm. 

He musters you with those intense eyes of his, that you can’t quite bring yourself to look away from. He’s so close that his breath hits the tops of your brows as he looks down at you. Seeming to realize as much, he pushes off the wall and begins picking up his documents.

“Yeah, no, yeah. I’m fine. Sorry about that.” You crouch down, beginning to gather the loose papers.

“Oh, you really don’t have to—” Your hand lands on his as you reach for the same sheet, making both of you freeze.

You look at each other for a long moment, and only a loud noise coming from one of the holding cells startles you out of your trance. You mumble an excuse as you pull your hand away, but even as you walk away the spot where he touched tingles with the heat of the sun.

Two days later and you are starting to doubt yourself. A tired breath leaves your lips as you park your car, and your steps lack determination as you make your way to the Café where you get your morning coffee. 

The lead on Wonho’s wife turned out to be a total bust. Though the divorce gave her a clear motive, she had an alibi, having attended a recorded Zumba class held at the time of his death. So if she’s responsible for his murder, she had someone else do it for her, which only brings you back to your original theory. 

A contract killer murdered Wonho, and likely the other two victims as well. 

Not that anyone but you seems to agree with that story, though. Not even Yuta, whom you’re usually on the same page with when it comes to these things. Not that you can blame him, though, when all you have to support your claim is a loose relationship between the second and third victim and a vague gut feeling.

You smile weakly as you push through the doors of the coffee shop. Coming here has got to be your favorite part of the day. The comforting smell of coffee in the air, the beautifully decorated cakes behind the display glass, and the cute cat, who always greets you at the entrance. Not to mention that the coffee here truly is the best.

“Morning. I’ll have an—”

“Iced americano with a dash of honey to go, coming right up.” Your expression must fail to hide your surprise because it makes the blonde-haired barista smile. “You come here every day, Detective, always ordering the same thing. It would be strange if I didn’t know your order by now.”

He looks a little out of place in the coffee shop. The apron clashes with his broad chest, making the whole uniform look like more of a costume than official work wear.

You smile awkwardly, picking at your cuticles. But then his words sink in, making you halt. “How do you know I work for the police?”

His expression tightens for a fraction of a moment, but then that dazzling smile of his is back, making you question if it ever happened at all. 

“The ID batch,” he says. “You always wear it around your neck.”

You look down at yourself, nodding thoughtfully. What an observative barista. . .

After hours upon hours of going through the financial records of both Jung Wonho as a private citizen and his company, you’re starting to see numbers dance around behind your eyelids whenever you blink. 

“I know, this is tedious as hell.” Yuta pats your shoulder sympathetically as he places a steaming cup on your desk. A silver ring— a red-eyed tiger wrapped around his finger—catches your attention. Come to think of it, you’ve never not seen him wear it.

“Nice ring,” you comment.

“Oh, this?” He twists it around with his thumb and index finger. Shrugs. “Family heirloom.”

You nod acknowledingly, then eye the beverage he set down before you. “I don’t drink . . . What is this? Eugh. Camomile tea.”

“You drink too much coffee,” he retorts. “No wonder you’re having trouble sleeping.”

Your distasteful expression is replaced with a cock of your brow.

“I don’t have to ask.” He shrugs. “You look like shit, L/n. When was the last time you got more than 5 hours of sleep?”

You shrug, pondering the question before you realize that your silence proves his point.

“Whatever.” You brush his comment off. “Please tell me you managed to get something useful out of the employees?”

Your partner slumps back into his chair, heaving a sigh as he runs a hand through his long, black hair. 

“I wish. He was an . . . alright boss. Not overly friendly but always fair. No one knows of any enemies that he had within the firm, and as far as business rivals go, he did outperform his competition. But that has been the case for the last few years, so the timing doesn’t match. I’m sorry to say this but . . .” Resignation dulls the light in his eyes. “I’ve got nothing.”

Great. That’s just great. You sink your hands in your hair, frustratedly ruffling through it. But then your eyes catch on one of the documents. “Wait a second.”

“What?” Yuta moves closer with his chair and looks over your shoulder at the financial records.

“Look.” You point at the document. “Wonho made monthly transactions to an account called Oasis Holdings.”

“So?” Yuta types away at his phone, showing you the search result after a moment. “Oasis Relaxation and Spa. That must be it. He was probably a member.”

“Yeah, but which spa has membership fees this high?” You jut your chin at the figure listed on the document. Millions of won, every month.

He shrugs. “Businessmen are bougie?”

You shake your head. “Whatever, the money is secondary. Look at this.” 

You pull up the financial records of both Park Inhyun and Kim Minhwa, the other victims. “The account’s name stood out to me when I first read it in Wonho’s financial statement, but I couldn’t figure out why. Now I know. Both of the other victims also made regular transactions into Oasis Holdings.”

Whatever is behind Oasis Spa and Relaxation, it sure as hell is shady.

You regard your partner, your eyes filled with grim victory. “Still think the murders aren’t connected?”

The scent of grilled meat is a welcome distraction to your senses. There’s something comforting about it. The association of a parent preparing a meal for their child, a lover cooking for their partner. For some reason, the thought makes your chest tighten.

“What’s that face for?” Yuta asks. “We’ve got a lead. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

You reach for the bottle of Soju, pouring some more into both glasses. The alcohol burns subtly as it goes down, and it clouds over your stormy thoughts a bit, effectively numbing your mind.

“I am. I’m just feeling . . . impatient,” you tell him. “The warrant for Oasis’ records is taking longer than I anticipated, that's all.”

It’s been almost a week since you found the connection between the victims and applied for a warrant. Though you are used to these things taking their time, you can’t help but check your emails every few minutes, hoping for the green light from above.

Your partner places a piece of grilled meat onto your plate, gesturing for you to eat. “It’ll be fine. The warrant was pretty extensive in its scope. It’s bound to take a few days.”

You grumble your agreement as you chew the food. Even the savory taste of pork belly fails to liven you up.

“So, how’s your mom doing?”

You sigh. “She’s fine. Keeps nagging me to come visit her more.”

“You should,” he agrees. “I think it would be good for you to take some time off from this case, to be honest. You seem . . . exhausted. And the Busan air could do you good.”

You shake your head. “Nah. I hate taking time off when I’m working a case. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about work, which would set her off. She hates it when I talk about cop stuff.”

A beat of tense silence passes between the two of you. Yuta downs his shot of Soju. You refuse to meet his eyes. 

“Makes sense,” he says, finally. “That must bring up a lot for her.”

“Mhm.” You take another shot to make up for the curt response.

Yuta seems to hesitate before he speaks again. As if he’s weighing each word carefully. Slowly, he says, “He was one of the best detectives I’ve ever met. I learned more in the one year I worked with him than I have in my entire time with the force.”

A weak smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you watch his ring-clad hand wrap around your wrist. He caresses the skin there with his thumb, making you regard him closer.

Your partner is handsome, there is no denying that. The way he flicks his hair out of his eyes whenever it reaches a certain length, his passion for tattoos that is mirrored on his skin, that belly button piercing you catch a glimpse of whenever his shirt rides up just a little too high when he stretches his arms above his head—

You’re colleagues, you remind yourself. Mixing work and pleasure never works. And besides, he knows how unbearably cranky you get when you’re just a little too sleep-deprived for too long, and he likes to talk about anyone’s feelings but his own. As colleagues, ignoring these things is not hard. Your differences make you a good team. But as an actual couple? Oh, you would drive each other insane.

“Boss wants me to take the sergeant's exam next year,” you say, eager to steer your thoughts in a new direction. 

He looks more surprised than you thought he would. “Wow, that’s— that’s great!”

You pick at your food with your chopsticks. “I don’t know if I’m going to take it, though.”

“What? Why?” 

Who are you trying to fool? You are not going to eat any of this. You put down the chopsticks and lean back in your seat. 

“I don’t know. I don’t think I have the mental capacity to study for it, to be honest,” you admit, picking at your cuticles. “I’m so busy with work all the time, I don’t know if I’d pass. And besides, I was never really good at taking tests anyways . . .”

“That’s alright,” he says, smiling warmly. “You do what you think is best for you. Besides, you can take the test every year. No need to rush.”

How lucky you are to have someone like him as your partner. Someone who understands and doesn’t judge you for your shortcomings. 

You smile weakly. “Thanks, Yuta.”

The two of you eat and drink (mostly drink) some more until you’re both too wasted to drive. You look at your partner as he orders an Uber over the phone, finding yourself thinking, yeah, what’s the rush? I’ll just take the exam next year. Or the year after that.

Because there is no rush. And sergeants get too busy with bureaucratic work anyway. So why bother taking the stupid exam? Besides, you like being a detective. What’s so wrong about it staying that way?

Oasis Spa and Relaxation lays before you like a palace carved out of gold and marble. Your every step sounds with a damning ‘clink’ as if to warn the whole building: The fuzz is here to make trouble! 

It‘s been mere hours since your warrant regarding the financial statements as well as client documents went through. Yuta and you decided you wanted to question the man behind this place before going over the materials since he has made it suspiciously hard for you to get a hold of him.

Even now, he makes it hard for you to get to him. The building is like a giant maze that none of the employees seem particularly keen on helping you navigate. Even once you’ve finally located his office his secretary tries to ward you off. But you bypass her, having had enough of this ploy. Ignoring her insistent pleas for you to wait, you push through the heavy double doors with your shoulder, Yuta close behind you.

“—not the deal. Listen here—” The man fixes you with a cold gaze, his head turning slightly in annoyance. ”Let me call you back.” 

Yuta steps before you and shows his ID batch. “Nakamoto Yuta, SMPA. My partner and I are here to ask you some questions regarding three of your former clients.”

The man leans back, crossing his legs. The way he’s propped onto it makes his office chair look like a throne. His dark brown hair is slicked back neatly, and he’s wearing a black cashmere suit that looks too extravagant to seem professional. This man reeks of money.

“Ah, yes,” he breathes. “I take it you‘re the ones responsible for the chaos that occurred here this morning.” 

You step forward. “It’s nothing personal, sir. We’re all just doing our job here as I’m sure you can understand.”

He regards you with an expression that makes you feel scrutinized and scoffed at simultaneously. “And you are . . . ?”

“Detective Y/n L/n. Violent crimes unit.”

He regards your features for a moment too long, his expression taking on an icy-cold sharpness. “Well, Detective. I hope you find what you‘re looking for so we can all move on with our lives. Officers roaming around a spa doesn’t exactly help our customers relax. It’s bad for business.”

“Cooperate and we’ll be out of your hair soon,” you shrug. “We will stay in touch. Expect to be called in for questioning soon.” 

You excuse yourselves, but when you’re almost out the door his voice makes you halt.

“Miss Y/n. Aren’t you going to ask for my name?” His tone is as taunting as the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth.

You regard him with a cool gaze. “Oh, we know exactly who you are, Johnny Suh.”

Technically, taking home case files is against protocol. The first few times you did it, you felt like a delinquent. Nowadays it’s a transgression that you’ve gotten used to disregard. It’s not like you’re leaking classified information, and besides, you always bring them back to work the next day. Also, it helps you solve cases faster, so really, you’re doing the precinct a favor here.

Though you’re not so sure about the solving part anymore, especially with your downstairs neighbor blasting hard rock music despite it almost being midnight. You groan, throwing your head back. You’re never going to find anything in Oasis’ financial statements like this!

As the days get hotter and hotter, so do the nights. It’s fine in your air-conditioned apartment, but the hallways of your building have no such technical facilities. You put your hair up with a claw clip, fanning at your neck in a desperate attempt to cool you down as you walk down the steps. The obnoxiously loud music booms even in the stairwell. How the hell have none of your neighbors complained to these people yet? 

Your knuckles hurt by the time the tenant on the other side of the door hears your knocks. The moment the door opens the music assaults your ears, making you cringe.

“It’s fucking 11:30!” you call over the noise, tapping the imaginary watch around your wrist pointedly.

The man on the other side doesn’t take his eyes off you as he calls something over his shoulder that you can’t make out over the noise. He flicks strands of his two-toned, black, and blonde hair out of his face as the music reduces to a faint roar coming from deep within the apartment.

Your neighbor rubs his neck, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry about that. We’re not quite used to having neighbors yet.”

You do remember them moving in only about a few weeks ago.

He holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Renjun.” He juts his thumb toward the person approaching from behind him. “And that’s my roommate, Hae—” 

“Donghyuck. Lee Donghyuck,” a man with dark brown, wavy hair interrupts, making his roommate roll his eyes.

“Sorry we have to meet like this for the first time, princess,” he says, not sounding sorry at all as he leans against the doorway. “I’ll keep the volume down from now on, promise.”

A strange intensity looms in his gaze like black magic trying to suck you in. He holds out his hand for you to take, and his black-painted nails and what looks like a . . . burn mark gaining your attention. You turn to Renjun instead. “Y/n L/n. You can still listen to your music, just do it throughout the day, please.”

Renjun smiles at you while Donghyuck scoffs in an overly dramatic fashion. “Sure thing. And if you ever need anything, feel free to come to us.”

“Anything,” the other hums, voice seductively low. 

You look him up and down pointedly, before turning on your heel. But even as you walk away, their gazes follow you.

You have never understood the appeal of wine bars. If you want to get drunk, Soju is the best, especially with snacks. And if it’s expensive liquor that you’re after, isn’t it cheaper just to buy a bottle for yourself than to purchase an overprized sip of it?

The stares of the customers at the wine bar bore into your back as you make your way to the bar. Yet another reason to dislike this place. But it’s not like you can blame them, either. With your tousled hair and casual clothes, you stick out like a sore thumb between the luxuriously clad customers. 

“First, you follow me to the hairdresser, then the jeweler, and now here.” Johnny Suh regards you with an expression of calculated amusement. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to be insulted or flattered.”

He’s wearing another one of his crisp black cashmere suits. This one, too, is perfectly tailored to his tall frame. 

“For a man as successful as yourself you don’t seem to be working very much,” you say.

He smiles coldly. “People who want to be successful work hard. People who are successful pay hard-working people to do the work for them.” Johnny nods towards the bartender. “Another whiskey on the rocks. And a martini for my . . . friend.” 

“Actually,” Your eyes glint with rebellious challenge. “I’ll have a whiskey, too. Neat.”

Johnny scoffs, watching as you take a sip from your drink. The liquor burns as it goes down but you take another sip anyway, holding his gaze. 

“So, I found out something interesting this morning.” Your hand rests over your pocket in which your phone lays. You force yourself to place it on the bar, instead.

“Apparently, even the premium membership for your spa only comes up to roughly 700.000 won per month—which is outrageous, by the way. I mean, come on? All that for what? A manipedi? Anyway, it makes one wonder what the hell our three murder victims were paying you for. ‘Cause it sure as hell weren’t pedicures.”

If Johnny is alarmed, he does a good job of hiding it. “Many of our clients are high-profile celebrities and business tycoons who value discretion greatly. Discretion, which comes at a price.” 

He studies your features. Reaches out to play with a lock of your hair. “Why don’t you pay Oasis a visit, mhm? On the house, of course. I’m sure, once you experience what I can do for you, you will understand why my clients are so loyal.” 

You catch his wrist. “Dead, you mean.”

His expression turns dangerously cold. “You are wasting valuable time investing me when the actual murderer is still out there. I can assure you I have nothing to do with this case, Miss Y/n.”

You down your drink, unable to fight the way it makes your nose crinkle. “We’ll see about that.”

Johnny Suh stares dead ahead, his eyes darkening more with every step you take away from him.

By the time you leave the bar, a downpour has started. 

“That’s monsoon season for you,” you grumble, trying and failing to shield your head with your hands. 

You sway a little in your steps, and your foot catches on an uneven brick in the sidewalk, almost sending you falling to the floor. Jesus, you didn’t know you were that much of a lightweight.

You look around for a bus station. Your car is still parked by the police precinct, so you’re going to have to go back there before you can go home. Just why did you have to tail Johnny by foot? Between the darkness of the evening, the rain, and the traffic lights, you don’t see much when a car next to you honks, gaining your attention. You’re just about to flip off the person when you realize that it’s not a cat caller tailing you but your colleague.

“Need a ride?” Mark calls through his open window.

You hesitate, unsure. “I’m going to get your car all wet.”

“This old thing?” He scoffs, gesturing to his admittedly, rundown-looking Hyundai Galloper. “Wouldn’t make much of a difference, really.”

You hesitate a moment longer before finally deciding to just get in and not cause any more of a traffic jam than you already have. You cringe as your damp jean-clad legs make contact with the seat. Not knowing what else to say, you settle for, “If I leave any water stains I’ll write you a check for the cleaning fees.”

Mark smiles slightly, his eyes focused on the road.  “This car already looked like it had survived four world wars when I bought it. I think it can handle one damp detective.”

You chuckle weakly, already feeling a little less tense after your encounter with Johnny. 

“So, where are we headed to?” he asks.

His hair sticks to his forehead in damp strands, making his undercut look even sharper somehow. The whole thing accentuates the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. Looking at his side profile like this, it suddenly makes a lot of sense to you why he is so popular with your female colleagues.

“The precinct, if that’s alright. My car is still— fuck.”

“What?” He looks over at you briefly, alarmed.

“I was going to drive myself home but I had a drink. I totally forgot.” And all that just to win a dick-measuring contest with a narcissistic maybe-killer. God, you and your stupid ego.

Mark looks at you for a moment before he snorts softly and shrugs. “That’s fine. I can take you home. Just put your address into my phone.”

“Are you sure? I can just get a taxi. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience—”

He smiles reservedly, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t have offered if I minded. And besides, I like driving. It’s calming.”

Caving in, you type your address into his navigation app and he starts in the direction of your building. A few silent moments pass between you.

“So, drinking on the job? That bad, huh?”

You sigh, running a hand over your brow. “I know, I’m a terrible cop. I was just trying to prove a stupid point.”

“Is it because of the Oasis case?” he asks. Great, so your failure to get this guy is public knowledge by now.

“Mhm. There’s this one guy— I know he has something to do with the murders. I just don’t have enough evidence on him yet.” You look out of the car, watching raindrops dance on the window. 

“This case is making me lose my mind a little,” you admit.

You can feel his eyes on you. When you dare to catch a glimpse of them, a storm of emotions seems to stir in them. Mark is the first one to look away.

“If anyone can figure it out, it’s you.”

You chuckle tiredly. “I’m not so sure about that. The more time I spend on this case the less sense it seems to make.”

Mark seems to ponder for a moment. “Maybe that’s exactly what the guy wants.”

“What?”

He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I heard your warrant on Oasis was extremely extensive. Maybe you’re so busy trying to see the big picture that you can’t see what’s been under your nose all along.” He looks at you strangely, as he says this. Like his gaze is urging you to understand something deeper. “Maybe the answer you’re looking for is right there. You just don’t want to acknowledge it.”

You stir, awoken by the tremors shaking your limbs. White fog surrounds you, slithering around your form like a snake‘s hiss. A cry— too distorted to sound human— startles you to attention. A choked gasp leaves you as the graveness of your situation dawns on you. You‘re sitting on a hard metal chair, wrists shackled to the cold interrogation table in front of you.

Another scream sounds, this one clearer and devastatingly near. You pull at your restraints— a futile effort— but then your gaze catches on your bare legs. You‘re wearing nothing but a white satin slip dress that would look pure if not for the blood dying it red. Frantic eyes look down on you, but you have no perception of your limbs. Is it yours? Are you hurt? The blood flows and flows until it pools at your feet, an ever-growing sea of death.

Another scream sounds, so loud that it may as well have been your own. Then the fog clears. Just enough to reveal a figure, cowering on its side like a wounded animal.

You jump up only to crash back against the table that your wrists are still bound to. Blue. Green. Purple. Yellow. Bruises litter the skin beneath the shackles like a cruel painting. How long have you been here for? How long has he . . . ?

Lightning goes through you when you recognize him. Jung Wonho. 

His skin is grey and blue, like a corpse that’s been rotting away in the water. But he’s not dead, no. His lips move in a silent plea that you fail to understand. His last words, perhaps. You will never know.

The short but deep slit through his neck is strangely dry, and with a whimper, you realize now why you’re the one covered in red.

“The art of suffering. Isn’t it beautiful?” The voice whispers in your ear, so eerily sweet. So hauntingly familiar.

You try to look at the origin of the voice, but a hand around your jaw stops you. “Don‘t look away. Take it in.”

The hand lets go of your chin. Instead, slides down the slope of your neck, gracing the cut that resides there until it settles on your shoulder. His hand must be covered in Wonho’s blood now, with the way it keeps pulsing from your neck.

Black polished nails play with the string of your dress. A shock goes through you and your body comes alive. How can it be? A touch so small makes your breasts sink and rise in rapid breaths. Warmth flares in your chest and spreads between your legs

“Please,” you whimper.

“You‘re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Another voice sounds from behind you. All you see in the corner of your eye is a strand of white blonde hair, here one second, gone the next. 

“N-no! No, that’s not—”

“Stop denying it,” yet another voice hisses. 

More and more hands trace the lines of your body. Dip into the hollow between your neck and shoulder. Trace up the curve of your spine. Glide down your arms. Up your legs. Between your breasts. Slip under the hem of your dress—

You shoot up in your bed with a sharp inhale. Just a dream. It was just a dream. But you‘re still so unbearably hot. You kick the twisted coil that is your blanket from your legs, your breathing slowly regulating itself.

You slide down from your bed, sighing as the cool wooden floor against your bare feet lends you at least a partial a reprieve from the heat. Though it does little to stifle the shameful fire that has been lit inside you.

A couple of days later, the downpour has faded to a sad drizzle. The cloudy sky looks down on you as you rush toward your favorite coffee shop. Only when the door doesn’t give way beneath your palm do you notice how dark it is inside the cafe. Your eyes fall on a note stuck to the door.

Closed due to sickness.

“Oh, come on! Seriously?”

A shadow appears behind the door, making you jump back with a squeal. “Good morning, Detective.”

The barista who’d made you coffee the other day looks back at you, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

You rub your neck awkwardly. “Hi, sorry. I didn’t realize you guys were closed. I’ll go somewhere else.”

You halt, turning back around to see his hand wrapped around your wrist. “Don’t be silly. I’ll make you your coffee.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary. I mean you’re closed and all—”

“I’m already here, might as well.” Before you can protest further, he pulls you inside the cafe.

“Same as always?” he asks as he gets behind the counter. You nod, feeling awkward alone with him in the cafe.

The whole situation feels strangely alien. Him making your coffee in sweats and a big hoodie instead of his usual get-up. You sitting alone at one of the tables of the usually so busy coffee shop.

“So, why are you here when you guys are closed?” you ask, trying to fill the silence.

“For you,” he says, making your eyes widen. He starts to laugh. “Just kidding. Lucy still needs to be fed. And my boss broke his leg, so he can’t take care of her right now.”

You look down at the cat who is eyeing you curiously from her spot on one of the tables. “She belongs to the owner?”

He shakes his head. “She’s a stray. But I guess because she likes the customer’s attention and because we started feeding her eventually, she thinks of this place as her home now.” You nod.

“You look pretty tired, love,” the barista notes, then jokes. “How many of these do you have a day?”

You sigh rubbing your brow. “Too many.”

“Working on a difficult case?” he asks.

You muster him, suddenly alarmed. But he only smiles at you warmly. Gosh, you’re getting paranoid.

“You have no idea . . .”

If only that were true.

 “—On the house, of course. I’m sure, once you experience what I can do for you—” 

“You followed Mr. Suh around and recorded your conversation? What the hell were you thinking?” Yuta digs his hands into his long hair, breathing heavily. “You know that’s against protocol, Y/n.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest and shrug. “Relax, he had no idea I was recording on my phone. And besides, it’s not like I was planning to use anything he said to me as an official statement.”

“Then why take such a stupid risk? Had he found out he could have reported you for misconduct!”

“And I was careful enough not to give him the chance! Gee, where’s the guy who was fangirling over bullet-engraving detective Mark Lee?”

That, at least, gets him to detangle his hands from the strands of his dark hair. He sighs, half amused half exasperated. “So, what do you hope to achieve with this? All I’m getting out of this is him offering you a free spa day, which,” He lifts his hands in defense. “no offense, but you could definitely use.”

“He was trying to bribe me, Yuta. Which would make sense, considering what I found last night.” You pull up dozens of emails on your computer. 

“[email protected],” Yuta reads. He raises a questioning brow at you.

“The domain doesn’t matter. It’s probably just to make it seem like the emails are about trading or something. But look.” You jut your chin towards the attached text. “Seoul city socialite meeting for trading counsel in the context of neo-industrialization of technology. 5:30 p.m., 2024.03.25. Meeting place according to predetermination. Addressed to none other than Jung Wonho.” 

Yuta’s brows meet. “Yeah, if you’re trying to tell me you got any of that, then your full of shit.”

You wave his comment away. “My guess is that the sender tried to make it look like some sort of highly prestigious investment club. But that doesn’t matter because— guess what? It’s a cover.” You pull up two more emails, sent from the same address. “Jung Wonho, Kim Minhwa, and Park Inhyun all got emails from this club at least once a month, and more often than not way more than that.”

“So? They were all part of the same investment club?”

“That’s the best part!” Your hands fidget with each other. “There was never any investment club! Want to know how I know? I had IT track the sender’s IP address, and where do you think it led to?”

Yuta’s eyes meet yours. “No way. . .”

“Exactly! Oasis Spa and Relaxation! We’ve got the bastard, Yuta.”

The sun has long set by the time you finish your set at the gym. You frown in frustration as your membership card declines again and again on your way to the changing rooms. The microchip must be broken. Great.

You startle as a hand appears from behind you, swiping a card over the reader, making the light switch from red to green and you both walk through the gate. You turn around to the stranger.

“Oh. It’s you.” It’s hard to hide your distaste.

Why is this man always here to witness your lowest moments?

The man with jet-black hair looks back at you and scoffs. Sweat pearls at his neck. Makes his black shirt cling to each curve of his muscled torso. “A simple ‘thank you’ would’ve done the job.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest. “Are you following me?”

“Excuse me?”

“You always work out when I’m here too. You go on the treadmill right next to mine when all the other ones are unoccupied, and even now you’re here, talking to me.” His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek as he rolls his eyes at you. “Let me tell you this once, so we can get it out of the way. I’m not interested in you,” you say, pushing past him. “So please don’t talk to me again.”

You don’t give him a chance to respond.

The precinct buzzes with noise just like it does any other day. Usually, the chaos would throw you off but today it fuels you. Maybe it’s because today is different. Because today is the day that could change everything.

As you and your partner make your way to the interrogation room your phone rings, making you halt.

“Who’s that?” Yuta asks.

You shrug, not recognizing the number. “Hello?” Silence. “Hello? Can you hear me?” 

But you’re only met with more silence. Strange, but okay. Just as you’re about to end the call, a faint shaky voice sounds.

“I-i have in-information regarding the murder of Jung Wonho.”

You stop dead in your tracks. The voice sounds faintly familiar, but you can’t put your finger on it. “Who am I talking to?”

Silence, then in a trembling voice, “Please, don’t tell anyone about this! I’ll only talk to you. Alone.”

You lower your voice. “When?”

“Yeouido Hangang Park. 11:30. Tonight.”

Before you can respond, the call ends. 

“What was that about?” Yuta asks.

You shrug your shoulders, brows furrowed. “I guess I’ll find out tonight.”

You mentally shake your head as you arrive at the interrogation room. Forget about the call. This is all that’s important right now.

“You ready for this?” you ask.

“Actually,” Yuta says, sounding apologetic. “I just remembered that I have another interview scheduled with Wonho’s wife. Maybe she knows more about his connection to Oasis.”

You nod, slightly disappointed but understanding. You can do this on your own, you tell yourself. It’s fine. You got this. 

“Alright, good luck,” you say,

Yuta pats your shoulder, chuckling. “I think I should be the one saying that to you. Break a leg.”

You scoff weakly as your partner winks at you over his shoulder before he resumes his way out of the precinct. You take a deep breath before pushing through the door. The temperature in the room is colder, making a chill run down your spine. You straighten your shoulders and take place across from him.

“Do you know it by now, Mr. Suh?” you ask by way of greeting.

Johnny cocks a brow at you. You smile at him. “Whether you’re supposed to feel flattered or insulted.”

He scoffs, incredulous. Adjusts his tie. “That depends. What is it I’m here for?”

You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. “Suspicions on three counts of first-degree murder. Definitely money laundering and illegal obtainment and trading of insider knowledge.”

Johnny musters you with an expression of collected calm. “We found the emails you sent to our three victims under the cover of trading club meetings. We also talked to a witness confirming that those meetings were a cover, yesterday.” You fix him with a hard stare. “You sold information regarding their business rivals to the three men, and in exchange, they transacted money into Oasis’ account.”

Johnny moves his chair back from the table and throws one leg over the other. The gesture is insultingly casual. “That doesn’t prove I killed them, though, does it, Detective?” 

He leans forward and rests his elbows on the metal table, propping his chin on his hands. The smile on his face is victorious. “So, unless you have proof I was at any of the crime scenes, you may talk to my lawyer. He should be here any minute now. That is unless you would like me to file a wrongful arrest suit against the police department.” He tsks. “Which I can’t imagine your boss would like very much, Miss Y/n.” 

You grit your teeth, slamming your fist on the table. “I know it was you! If you sold industry secrets to our three victims, you probably also did the same for their competitors. They found out and got together. Started threatening to out you to the police, so you killed them.”

Silence becomes an all-consuming black hole between you. It becomes so aggressive that you almost jump out of your skin when Johnny chuckles lowly.

“You are so much like him. Work the same way he did. Get so obsessed with your cases.” He scoffs. “It’s uncanny, really.”

The world stops, and with it so does your heart. The door to the interrogation room opens at some point, but you barely hear the lawyer’s voice over the shrill ringing in your ears.

Your mouth is agape, and your heart beats in your throat, so rapidly you think it might jump out at any moment. All the while Johnny sits there, knowing that he’s won, a devious smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The realization hits you like a shot to the chest.

Johnny knew your father.

You burst out of the interrogation room. The world is turning. You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe.

Youcantbreatheyoucantbreathecantbreathe.

Out. You need to get out of here.

You bump into people, collide with door frames and almost fall up the stairs until you’ve made it up all the way to the rooftop. Breaching through the door feels like breaking through the icy surface of a frozen lake. You clutch onto the railing, trying to focus on the cold metal against your hands to ground you. You press one hand over your mouth and breathe through your nose until you’ve calmed down enough to chase away the dark spots clouding your vision. 

How the hell does Johnny know about your father? It doesn’t make any sense.

“It’s because of him, isn’t it?”

You whirl around. “What did you just say?”

Mark pushes back the black strands of his messy hair, revealing more of his undercut. Dark circles make his eyes appear more hollow than they are. He looks so tired.

“Johnny Suh,“ he says, clarifying.

A shaky breath of relief leaves you. “Oh.”

If only you knew, you want to say. Instead, you turn away, wiping at the corners of your eyes. Your ears start to burn. How humiliating for him to see you like this. 

Mark leans against the railing next to you, looking into the distance as if recalling a distant memory. His eyes burn with an inferno of conflicting emotions.

“He has his ways of getting into peoples’ heads,” he says, finally. “Knows just what to say to make it hurt. I wouldn’t beat myself up over it.”

You cock a brow at him. “And how do you know all that?”

He looks at you. Looks away. “Just . . . heard a lot of rumors, that’s all. The Oasis case is hot gossip in the precinct nowadays.”

Your knuckles go white around the railing. “Great. So everyone knows about my spectacular failure, then.”

“Didn’t you get him for money laundering or something?” he asks.

“Yes, but that bougie ass lawyer of his is probably going to get him out on bail or something.” You groan, pressing your palm to your eye. “I think I jumped the gun on this. Had I only waited and investigated more, I would’ve eventually found something tying him to the murders. But now . . . fuck.”

Mark grabs your wrist and pulls your hand from your face. He holds it between you, his skin warm against yours. “Be careful, Y/n. You don’t want to get on his bad side.”

You pull your hand from his, glaring at him. “So you don’t think I can do it, either? Is that it? This man has to pay for what he’s done, Mark.”

“That’s not— I’m not . . .”

You push away from the railing, turning away. “Whatever, Mark.”

A nocturnal bird screeches somewhere in the distance, making you cringe. Yeouido Hangang Park looks hauntingly daunting this late at night. Your hand rests against the gun tugged into the waistband of your jeans, your only source of comfort. 

11:43

She should be here by now. Maybe she chickened out? Or it was a prank call?

You decide you’re going to wait ten more minutes. If she hasn’t come by then, you’re leaving.

11:45

11:47

11:50

Nothing.

Whatever. You decide to call it a day, making your way back to your car. Anything to get out of here as quickly as possible.

You toss and turn from one side to the other. Turn on your stomach. Turn on your back. When you open your eyes, the clock reads 3:42. With a sigh, you push back the blanket and sit up. 

This just seems to be how your nights are these days. You spend hours trying and failing to fall asleep, and when your body finally does give in to the exhaustion you’re plagued by nightmares. 

Jung Wonho. He appears in almost all of them. And on the rare occasion that he doesn’t, one of the other two victims replaces him. But that’s not all. These . . . figures. No matter how hard you try, they never allow you to catch a glimpse of their faces, and whenever you do think you’ve figured out who they are, you wake up, having forgotten it. They say you can’t dream about people you’ve never seen . . . 

Whatever, they might as well be celebrities you’ve seen on TV. A cashier ringing you up at the supermarket. Colleagues you vaguely know from work. But it’s the nature of your dreams that haunts you most. So excruciatingly morbid, but then. . . 

Those sultry voices . . . those hands caressing your body. . . 

It’s a strangely morbid combination that puts you to shame every time you wake up from one of those dreams, your heart clenching with agony for the dying man and that treacherous place between your legs hot and throbbing with desire.

You walk over to the window. The night lays dark and mysterious before you.

“You are so much like him. Work the same way he did. Get so obsessed with your cases.” 

Johnny’s words haunt you like a ghost from the past. What exactly does he know? And how . . .?

Movement outside catches your attention. A black car with tinted windows halts before your building and two all too familiar figures get out before it drives off with screeching wheels. Watching them enter the building, your brows furrow. Your ear twitches as their steps resound in the stairwell, and their hushed voices follow with words indecipherable to you.

Renjun and Donghyuck, what the hell are you up to?

There has been another murder. 

From the moment you get to work this morning, until the moment you arrive at the crime scene, everything is one big hectic blur. Yuta receives the call just as you step into the office. The headquarters of Jung Administration. The same building Jung Wonho was killed in. You take Yuta’s car and drive in tense silence.

“Min Ina,” a patrol officer at the scene informs you. “Former assistant of the late Jung Wonho.”

“His assistant?” you echo.

“We questioned her when we first started our investigation, remember?” There is a strain to Yuta’s voice.

Your eyes fall on the woman’s face, and you stop breathing. You understand it now. God dammit, how did you not realize this earlier? The reason the person who called you yesterday sounded so familiar. It was Min Ina. Min Ina, who said she had information on the murderer. Min Ina, who now lays dead before you.

Bitterly, another realization dawns upon you. “It couldn’t have been him.”

“Mhm?”

“Johnny. He got out on bail this morning,” you say, face grim. You turn to the forensic expert,  already having an idea of what he’s going to say. “How long has she been dead for?”

The man inspects bruises raking around the victim's neck. “Considering the coloration of the bruises and the color of her skin, I’d say she’s been dead for 12 to 15 hours.”

So either Johnny hired someone to kill her for him, or it really wasn’t him . . .  This case is making less and less sense to you. 

“She was choked,” Yuta observes. “Do you think that’s how she died?”

The man nods. “Most probably. But we will know for sure once we’ve conducted an autopsy.”

A gash on the woman’s cheek catches your attention. Maybe a cut from a knife? 

“She fought back,” you realize.

Yuta nods grimly. “Just not well enough.”

You notice a crumpled piece of paper sticking out from the curled palm of the victim. Yuta watches as you unfurl it. The word is hard to make out, the writing messy and shaky. A hastyly written message, made in the last moments of her life.

“Partner,” you read.

“As in her life partner? Was she married?” Yuta asks.

You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”

“Then maybe one of Wonho’s business partners?” he questions. “Johnny did sell information to Jung’s rivals. They’d definitely have a motive to kill.”

You shake your head. “Wonho maybe. But not his assistant.”

Yuta’s face is devoid of any warmth. “Maybe she knew too much.”

Did she know who killed Wonho? Did she witness the murder on that fateful day? You look down at the woman grimly, shaking your head. 

This monster can’t keep getting away with this.

You come home way too late that day. Your steps drag as you enter your apartment, kicking off one shoe, the other. Your jacket lands on the ground with a dull thud as you shrug it off. You step into the bathroom, phone tucked between your ear and shoulder.

“—come to the station on Wednesday. We would like to ask you a few questions regarding an ongoing investigation.”

The person on the other line sighs as if eternally bored by your request. “Fine, fine. I will clear my schedule. Just make it quick. I don’t have a lot of time.”

You roll your eyes, glad that the woman can’t see you. What a bitch.

You turn the knob of your shower, but only a few sad drops of water come out. You almost curse on the phone. “Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Kang. Talk to you on Wednesday.”

You hang up before she can answer. “Seriously?” 

You stare daggers at your shower. As if that will make it work again. Great, now you’re going to have to get it fixed.

Now what? You don’t want to go to bed dirty. You could shower at your gym but it’s already so late, and you’ve had a long day. You’d rather shoot yourself in the foot than leave your apartment again. An idea pops into your head. Not one that you’re particularly excited about but hey, it's better than going to bed filthy.

A minute later your hand hovers hesitantly in front of your neighbour's door. Oh, whatever! If anything, they owe you. You knock before you can convince yourself otherwise. 

Renjun opens the door. His eyes widen in surprise as if he can’t believe you would voluntarily knock on his door. “Oh. Hi.”

“My shower broke,” you say by way of greeting, heat creeping up your cheeks. God, this is awkward. “Can I use yours?”

His eyes fall on the towel in your hands. “Oh, yeah no, sure! Come in.”

The first thing you notice is the many paintings on the walls. Most of them depict landscapes and objects of nature, and they look too . . . personal to be purchased decorations.

“You paint these?” you ask.

He shrugs shyly. “It’s a hobby.”

“They are beautiful,” you say quietly, as you look at them. 

Apart from that, the apartment looks just about how you would imagine a space shared by two men. Undone dishes in the sink, clothes lying on the floor. Renjun’s ears go red as he snatches a pair of boxers from the floor and hides them behind his back.

“Sorry about that. It’s usually cleaner in here, I swear.”

You’re just about to tell him that it’s fine when Donghyuck walks into the room. He’s only wearing grey joggers, his torso exposed. “Hey, is this mine or yours?” He smells the shirt, wrinkles his nose. “Actually, never mind— Oh. Hi there, neighbor.”

You force your eyes up to his face, but you can’t help the way they linger on his skin for a second. Just long enough for you to see the subtle abs he sports, and the moles that grace not just his face and neck, but apparently litter his whole body. Of course, he notices you staring. 

“Enjoying the view?” he asks cockily.

You scoff at him, rolling your eyes. Dongyhuck’s smile gets wiped off his face when Renjun throws the piece of clothing he hid behind his back at the other’s face. “Lee Haechan! How many times have I told you not to leave your clothes lying around?!” 

Haechan? Didn’t he say his name is Donghyuck? 

Renjun turns to you, face apologetic. “The bathroom is through there. Scream if you need anything.”

“Or want some company,” Donghyuck whispers lowly as you pass by him.

As you leave, Renjun continues his tirade. “And it was your turn to do the dishes this morning! God, I hate living with you!”

So this is their first time living together? You lock the bathroom door behind you, leaning against it, pondering. What a pair of mysterious neighbors you’ve got there. They move in abruptly, and so recently as well. They come back from god knows where in the middle of the night. Get dropped off by shady people driving secretive cars . . .

Perhaps you’re better off not getting too close to these people, you find yourself thinking.

“Would you say your relationship with Mr. Suh is close?”

Kang Seulgi looks up at you from her nails, a look of disinterest on her face. “As close as any other secretary is with her boss.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “So you’re saying your relationship is strictly professional, then?”

Her red lips stretch into a tight line. She knows you know. “Yes.”

You smile at her. “That’s interesting, considering the fact that this is how you spend most of your time together.” You slide a picture across the table to her, which shows her and Johnny in his car, in a rather . . . compromising position. “Unless that is part of your job description.” 

Her expression changes from one of mild annoyance to cold fury. “Look, Detective. I don’t see how that is any of your business. So why don’t you go ahead and tell me what it is I’m really here for.”

You shrug. “Fair enough. I know Johnny is behind the recent murder cases. He may not have committed them himself, but he could have gotten someone to do it for him.”

Seulgi scoffs. “And you think that someone is me?”

You lean closer, propping your chin on your hands. “A crime of passion. It’s not the most abstruse theory. However, the autopsy of our latest victim showed that the perpetrator was most likely male. Plus I know you were working around the time that three of our four victims were killed. So no, I don’t think you did it. But I do think you could know who did.”

You look at each other for a few long moments. And just when you think you see a sliver of doubt in her eyes, she starts laughing in your face. “If there is one thing you have, Detective, it’s a strong imagination. Johnny is not your guy. The sooner you accept that the sooner you will catch the actual culprit.” She looks at her expensive watch, no doubt a gift from her boss. “Now, am I free to go? Because I do have places to be.”

You resist the urge to shake her until she gets that pretty but good-for-nothing head of her’s straight. “Call me, if you change your mind,” you say tightly.

She scoffs as you walk away, leaving her behind in the cold interrogation room. Her mask slips the moment the door falls shut behind you, and she pulls out her phone. Seulgi’s sharp red nails tap against the side of it impatiently as she waits for the call to go through, biting her lip. He picks up after the third ring.

“We have to get rid of her.”

Twelve years earlier

Does this mean he has to become a monk? 

That was the first thing the little boy thought as he was led into the temple. He had always been a curious boy. His parents had joked that he must be living his first life. He had never quite understood what they meant by that, but it was not like he could ask, now.

The man said words that didn’t quite reach his ears. The little boy was too preoccupied with watching the other children play. Some of them didn’t pay him any mind, others looked a little sad, but there was one child who looked back at him, smiling. Shyly, the boy waved at him.

Later that day, when he had settled in a little, he was sitting alone at a table eating dinner. It tasted fine, but it couldn’t compare to his mother’s cooking. Maybe with enough time, he would eventually forget its taste, and these meals would taste just fine to him. He hoped so. 

“Do you want to eat with us?”

The boy recognized the other boy from before. He still smiled at him the same way. The boy nodded shyly and watched as the other beckoned his friends over. They sat down, and the boy next to him started to eat, so he followed suit. 

“The food isn’t that bad once you get used to it,” the other said, watching as the boy poked at his food. He could only nod.

After a few moments, the other turned to him again. “I’m Chenle, by the way. What's your name?”

“Jisung,” he replied quietly.

Chenle’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at him. “Do you want to be friends, Jisung?”

And for the first time in a long time, Jisung found himself smiling back.

Yuta bursts into the office. It’s strange to see your partner so angry. He’s usually the one who is good at keeping his feelings in check, whereas you are the one prone to emotional outbursts. An angry vein on his forehead glares at you.

“I can’t believe that you’re still investigating Johnny!”

“I know he is behind this, Yuta!” you shoot back, throwing your arms up.

“You have no evidence! Do you know how unprofessional you’re being?! How unreasonable?!” His face is red with exasperation.

“I have this gut feeling—”

“That’s not how a good detective operates! We don’t follow hunches when all the evidence points us in a completely different direction! That is not only reckless behavior but also incredibly stupid!”

“Yuta—”

He holds his palms out to you. “No, Y/n. I’m done. I’ve let this behavior slide for long enough. But enough is enough. Let it go, or I will report you to the captain.”

Your nostrils flare. You raise your chin at him. “Go ahead then.”

He looks at you like you’ve completely lost it. “What?”

You step so close to him that your chests are almost touching. “Go ahead. Report me. But I hope you know that you’re willingly endangering civilians. Because there will be other murders, as long as Johnny is walking free, because evidence or no, I know he did this.”

You turn on your heel, ready to blow off some steam at the gym. Or the gun range. Actually, that sounds better.

“Don’t be your father!”

You stop dead in your tracks. Turn around so so slowly. “What.”

He looks at you in a strangely detached way. Like he’s looking through you somehow. “You’re going to get yourself killed, L/n. Just like he did.”

You blink at him. “How . . .?”

He walks past you before you can get another word in. You flinch as the door slams shut behind him.

Yuta calls you later that night. You’ve just made yourself a bowl of instant ramen when his caller ID lights up your phone screen. Your finger hovers over the decline button for a good few seconds. 

You change your mind at the last second. “What? Are you calling to scream at me some more for doing my job?”

He’s silent for a long moment. As if he’s struggling with his words. 

“You were right,” he says, finally, never having been good at admitting his mistakes. “I received an anonymous tip saying that Johnny is going to meet up with his hitman tonight to discuss their next steps.”

A message pops up at the top of your screen. “This is the location of my stake out. I’d get it if you want to sit this one out after what happened today—“

You jump up from your seat. “I’ll be there in ten.”

Just as you’re about to hang up, he stops you. “Y/n.”

You’re already putting on your shoes, the phone tugged between your ear and shoulder. “Yeah?”

He pauses. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “You can make it up to me by letting me arrest Johnny. Don’t start without me. I’ll be right there.”

It’s a wonder that you don’t get pulled over with the way you’re speeding down the streets of Seoul. Your GPS leads you to an abandoned warehouse in the old commercial zone of Seoul. You park next to what you recognize as Yuta’s car and hurriedly get out of yours. 

You walk around, looking for your partner. Making him out is not easy with the daylight gone, and when you try to call him, his phone goes straight to voicemail.

You curse under your breath. What if something happened to him? What if Johnny spotted him? Or worse, he knew he was there, to begin with! You circle the building, looking through the hollow windows but you see no one. You’re about to call for backup when a noise sounds behind you, making you whirl around. It sounded like someone stepped on the shards of glass of the broken windows. 

God, you didn’t even take the time to gear up, before coming here. How could you have been so stupidly reckless?

Your heart beats in your throat as you take slow calculated steps in the direction of the noise. Has someone been following you? You approach the corner of the building. Take a deep breath. Step forward—

A cry leaves you as something small and hairy dashes off with an aggressive squeak. You massage your chest, gasping in relief. A rat. It was just a stupid rat.

You continue on your way. Maybe Yuta is waiting for you on the other side of the buil—

An arm wraps around you from behind. Your scream is muffled against the cloth over your mouth. Chloroform. 

Nononono! 

Your panic only fuels you as you struggle harder against the person behind you, but their hold around you is adamant. Your vision clouds slowly but surely and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

Stay awake! Stay awake. Stayawakestayawake . . .

One last desperate whimper leaves you before the world goes dark.

Seven years earlier

At seventeen years old, the boy was in a limbo between childhood and adulthood. People kept telling him that he was growing into his tall nose, that he was becoming a ‘ladykiller’. The boy didn’t care about any of that.

When you lead the kind of life he did, none of those superficialities mattered. How could they, when every day was another uncertainty? All that mattered to him was to make it another day. And to see to it that his brothers did, too.

“They’re getting worse,” he told the oldest one through gritted teeth, as they watched the younger ones from afar. “And he is just letting it happen.”

The other grasped his wrist. Squeezed so hard it almost hurt. “You cannot go to him, do you hear me? You know what happened the last time we tried to stand up to him.”

The boy's hand reached behind him, subconsciously tracing the skin of his shoulder blades. He winced. The skin was still raw.

“We can’t just do nothing,” he said, shaking with rage.

“Be there for them,” his brother urged. “That’s all any of us can do.”

The other left, leaving the boy to enter their shared dorm. He sighed as he picked up the syringes from the floor and threw them away.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” one of them jokes.

“You look like one, Chenle.” He turned to the other boy. “And you don’t look any better, Jisung.”

The two youngest looked at each other, their eyes rimmed red. They shared a glance, then burst out laughing.

The boy was seventeen when he realized that he was truly and utterly powerless. And nothing could ever change that. He reached for the tender skin on his back and sunk his nails into it until the pain drowned out the voice screaming in his head.

Thunder shocks you awake. Lightning strikes, illuminating your surroundings for a few short moments before the night swallows them again. Your chest rises and falls in panicked breaths as the memories come back to you. 

You’re lying in a bed that is not yours in a room that you don’t recognize. Where the hell are you? Panicked, you look down on yourself. Apart from your missing shoes and jacket, you’re still wearing the clothes you’d hastily thrown on before you went to meet up with Yuta. Good, that’s at least something.

The lightning throws shadows into the room that make the pieces of furniture look like distorted menacing forms. You half expect a shape will come out from behind one of the dark corners and lunge at you.

The person who’d kidnapped you. What if they work for Johnny? You scramble from the bed. Are they in the house with you? What if they’re armed? You can’t find your shoes, but that won’t deter you. Months of police academy training come back to you and your loud, terrified mind quietens.

Clear your mind.

It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be fine.

Call for backup.

You’re disappointed but not surprised to find that your phone is no longer on your person. Either you lost it in the struggle, or they took it from you. Either way, calling for help is not an option.

Assess your situation.

You’ve already scanned the room you're in. A bed, a closet, a couple of shelves, and two doors. One  of which probably leads to the bathroom. You spy out the window. A grassy lane and trees in the distance. One road leads from the building into the forest. That’s good, you tell yourself. That way you’ll know exactly which way to go to get away from here. But so will they.

You shake your head. You’ll cross that bridge when you get to it.

Locate possible escape routes.

The door looks at you temptingly, but you’re not stupid enough to choose that route. Light shines from underneath the door, so you’re clearly not alone here. Better to sneak out while they still think you’re unconscious than go on a suicide mission facing whatever is waiting for you on the other side of that door.

You take another look outside. The drop is three to three and a half meters, four at most. It certainly won’t be pleasant but what other choice do you have? Voices from behind the door make you freeze. Steps. And they’re coming closer quickly. 

Vision impaired due to the lack of light, you feel around the windows for any locks. You gasp in relief when your hands finally close around one. You pull but it won’t move. They must’ve locked them! The voices are almost at your door now.

Frantically you look for another way, but there is none. You have no choice. Your elbow screams in pain when you thrust it against the glass. Once, twice, until your blood paints the window red. Finally, the glass shatters with a shrill ‘chink’ and rains onto the floor.

“What the hell was that?”

The door opens abruptly. All you see is a shock of white-blonde hair before you hurl yourself out of the window. Your stomach churns as you freefall for the blink of an eye—

You crash so harshly into the floor that even rolling off the jump does nothing to ease the pain that explodes in your side. The air is forced out of your lungs, and you roll on all fours, gasping desperately. From inside the house, yells ring.

You force yourself to your feet, clutching your side. You wince. Best case, your ribs are bruised, worst case, they’re broken. But you don’t have the luxury of worrying about that right now. You run towards the dirt road as fast as your current state will allow. Then, you realize it’s not smart for you to follow the road directly— they’ll know to follow it to find you. So you head for the forest a little off to the left of the road instead. Rain drenches your hair. Makes your clothes stick to your skin.

“Y/N! STOP!”

You almost stop dead in your tracks. That voice. Something between a choked gasp and a whimper leaves you. It’s familiar. Too familiar.

He calls after you again. More and more voices join in. God, you’re hopelessly outnumbered. 

If only you at least had your gun! You’d shoot them all dead, these bastards! And then you’d bring their fucking heads to Oasis and slam them on Johnny’s desk. Oh, how you would relish in the look on his face once he realizes you’ve slain his dogs.

You reach the edge of the forest. It’s dense, that’s good, you tell yourself. It’ll be harder for them to make you out like this. Panic drives you further away from the dirt road. Sheltered by the trees, the rain is less strong here. You dodge trunks and branches of trees, force yourself to endure the twigs that cut along your cheeks. Your arms. Your legs.

The voices still ring behind you, but they’re getting further and further away. Good. That’s good, you tell yourself. You’re starting to lose them. You push further ahead, the road still somewhere to your left, just outside of your peripheral vision. You keep running in that direction, following the flow of it. It’s the only way in, so it has to be the only way out—

Arms wrap around you from behind and rip you backward. You scream, thrashing in the person’s grasp.

“Calm down! Jesus, this is—HEY I’VE GOT HER! WE’RE HERE!” 

That same voice.

You bring your leg up behind you, jamming it between his legs. He groans, his grip momentarily loosening around you. You slip out of his grasp but he catches your ankle, pulling you down with him. You scream and cry, thrashing like a wild animal beneath him. 

No, this is not how your story ends! You’re not done yet! But he’s on top of you now, and he’s so much stronger than you. In a matter of seconds, he’s got you pinned to the ground by your wrists, and as the moonlight breaks through a crack in the rain clouds, you recognize him.

Those asymmetrical eyes. His raven hair. The undercut.

“Mark.” 

Your voice is something between a croak and a gasp. Your eyes water with a tidal wave of frustration and terror. Of course, a man as powerful as Johnny has men in the SMPA! Then another thought strikes you, so dark and terrifying it forces you to action. What if Mark is the killer hired by Johnny?

Pain explodes on your forehead as you ram your head up against his. He falls back, a hand to his head, and you scramble to your feet.

Awayawayawayaway—

Another pair of arms wraps around you and holds you in place until cold metal clinks into place around your wrists.

“Help!” You scream as you struggle against the person. “SOMEBODY HELP!”

You’re turned around, and two all too familiar faces look back at you.

“Shh.” One of them puts a finger to your lips. “There’s really no use in screaming, princess. No one can hear you out here.”

Tears stream out of your wide-opened eyes and you stand there, mouth agape. And you breathe and breathe and breathe.

Until the night swallows you whole.

𝖭𝖢𝖳 𝖣𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖬

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐋𝐄𝐄 ↬

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 by @sehunniepotwrites ↳ disneyland au | f | 11.9k words 

There are so many ways your friend group could have chosen to celebrate your graduation from university but they chose the one way that fit their childlike antics most of all–going to Disneyland. With all the screams of joy and laughter filing the atmosphere, you see why people call it The Happiest Place on Earth. It’s where magic comes alive, hearts soar to the skies, and where dreams come true. With your dream job already lined up for you once you get back from this vacation, you wonder if your last and wildest fantasy–the one that carries Mark Lee endearingly close to your heart–will take flight. (But don’t worry; your best friends, with a little help of pixie dust, are determined to make it come alive by the end of night.)

perfection like literally. i love disney. so so so much.

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 by @yojeongin ↳ husband au | s | 19.5k words 

all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.

toxic as hell... i didn't know what to think of myself after this. but it's extremely well written.

𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨 by @hazyhae ↳ plug + stoner au | a, f, s | 14.4k words 

a high slip up cost you mark lee years ago, and you’ve spent years burying your memories of him ever since. the universe has other plans for you when your old friend starts a new career, smoking his way back into your life.

love love their work, even has a whole post dedicated to explaining weed basics 101 which i appreciate. A LOT

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 by @spiderm444rk↳ smau | f | ongoing

you, as the promising journalism student of NCUT, were more than willing to join the school magazine when you got offered. to your disappointment, the only section they let you have is the anonymous confessions one - which is mostly really, really boring. i mean, who even posts any cool confessions nowadays ? especially in a damn college magazine ? they only offered you the job no one else wanted. on the other hand, mark, a business student, was never more annoyed with the choice of his major. sure, business is cool and hopefully it’ll earn him money, but it’s not something he could really get into. he always wanted to do music. but after long considering, he chose business instead, to make sure he gets a real job in the future. and he doubts that choice was correct more and more every day. once the school band announces they’re looking for a new guitarist, he’s absolutely ready to apply until he reads the ‘music students only’ part. pissed off, he starts typing a message to the gc, but it ends up going to a different number - and you finally get to help some poor random stranger who confessed with something interesting.

sucker for mark lee and bands 😋😋

𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬 by @https-lvesick ↳ spiderman smau | a, f | ongoing

toronto has never been so chaotic, but things are working out since the spiders appeared to save the citizens. spiderman and silk are the city's biggest saviours and they count on them to keep them safe, even the police. but, aside from their big responsibilities, they’re just teenagers, trying to be themselves and keep their grades good, trying to have a social life and maybe a love life as successful as their superhero life. but… what’s easier to tell? that you have a crush on your best friend or that you’re a mutant superhero?

so so so so hyped for this since it started and excited for it still... a spiderman smau is just so good especially for mark <33

𝐇𝐔𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐍 ↬

𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 by @strrykais ↳ fantasy au + smau | f, a | ongoing

did you know that angels walk the earth before they get accepted into heaven, being tasked to watch over a human and complete their assignment. renjun was excited to finally have the chance to earn his wings, until he finds out his task is getting you to love life. a very depressed girl meets a very desperate boy, can they learn that maybe staying on earth isn't such a bad thing after all.

so hyped for this one actually even though it's the newest one on this list i think.

𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐭𝐰𝐨. 𝐭𝐞𝐧. by @zchl ↳ angsty little drabble | a | 1k words

(doesnt have a summary) renjun in the hospital, you're waiting for news.

literally broke me.

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 by @hwanchaesong ↳ exes to lovers | a, f | 1.1k words

[part of the after hours series] Y'all bring gravity to shame because even with its constant pull of 9.81 m/s^2, it still can't put your drunken pieces back together.

the series is so good check it out. this one is my fav though, it's just honestly a scenario i've never thought about before.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐎 ↬

𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 by @hazyhae ↳ fwb to lovers + plug!jeno | f, a, s | 4.7k words

jeno doesn't think he's ever felt this restless in his life. maybe he's been smoking a bad batch of flower, or maybe it's the fact that you haven't knocked on his door in over a month.

oh god. jeno isn't even one of my ults or wreckers but damn this hits the spot actually?

8 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 by @nanaxwii ↳ friends to lovers | f, a, | 1.3k words

Why do all good stories come to an end? Why don’t we try to make it work? It just takes 8 letters to fix it all, or does it…?

loving this one... it's filled with tooth rotting fluff that's so cute omg... i love them.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐂𝐊 ↬

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫 by @lyvhie ↳ established relationship | f | 2k words

you just want to show your boyfriend how important he is to you.

like the title it's literally so sweet... tooth-rotting fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 by @lqfiles ↳ smau | f | ongoing

after getting evicted out of your old place, you're left with no other choice but to look for a cheaper alternative. which is how you end up becoming neighbors with lee haechan, who has a passion for music and disturbing whatever peace and quiet there is. or in which you found yourself a very nice apartment, the only issue? your neighbor is your friend's somewhat ex-situationship who won't stop playing his guitar at 2 am in the night.

you will absolutely shit yourself reading this (in a good way dare i say?)

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐧 by @diorcities ↳ ballet au | s, h | 20.9k words

docile bodies loaded with lethal venom and betrayals are commonplace in the prestigious academy, and you happen to be their new prey when you're given the starring role with the smooth seducer with the devil's carved grin that everyone desperately desires: haechan

probably the filthiest one on this list? read the tags before reading, might be too much. it's just extremely poetic...

𝐍𝐀 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍 ↬

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 by @polarisjisung ↳ fighter au | a, f | 2.7k words

it's routine— you patch up his wounds and watch them heal, he salts your wounds but doesn't stick around long enough to watch them grow.

i hate you for this hua (esp part 2) but i also love to drown in angst

𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 by @markiemelon ↳ friends to lovers(?) au | f | idk lol

going over to jaem's house to crash a couple of times leads to something...

this was so sweet omg

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭 by @polarisjisung ↳ enemies to lovers smau | f, a | ongoing

going ovevery college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easierer to jaem's house to crash a couple of times leads to something...

unfortunately i cannot put cherry flavored, but this is just as good. check it out!!!

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐄 ↬

𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧 by @lowkeychenle ↳ friends to lovers(?) au | s, f, a | 9k words

Chenle is everything you want--everything you need. Somehow, the thought of him manages to pull you back in even after you were free. Messy kisses, late night trysts, and him tracing the word 'mine' on your thigh--barely anything, so how could you possibly be guilty as sin? (based on Guilty As Sin? by Taylor Swift)

fucked me over so badly.

𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭! by @wonbin-truther ↳ idol smau | f | smau

idol chenle x idol reader try to avoid dating rumors

this was SOO FUNNY

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 by @lyvhie ↳ established relationship | s | 2.5k words

a stupid little game seems to be enough to make you speak with recklessness and throw reason out of the window in the heat of the moment. but since you were unwilling to be so easily placated, chenle was decided to talk some sense into you.

i fully choked the day i read this. had to take a breather omg 😵😵

𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐞 by @mins-fins ↳ royalty au | f, a | 22.7k words

where crown prince zhong chenle, forced into a marriage with a woman he doesn't like and riddled with complicated feelings, finds solace in the palace's very own medic, you.

actually such a sucker for royalty fics... and chenle is so prince coded

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐲 by @aehyei ↳ parallel universe + time traveling au | f, a | 6.4k words

After a long day of stressful practice, Chenle finds himself in deep sleep on his bed and wakes up when a strange child that came from nowhere jumped on him—scaring him in the progress. To add to everything, the young idol learns that he just traveled to the future and is able to meet his future daughter. But will Chenle be able to be that great husband and father when he doesn’t even have a single clue on what’s going on?

one of my ABSOLUTE FAVORITES I HAVE EVER READ. if you're gonna read any of these read this.

𝐒𝐄𝐑Á 𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 by @galacticseonghwa ↳ biker smau | f, a, s | ongoing

your friends were all you needed, they were your brothers from another mother they loved to say. but that all went to shit after ricky dragged you to one of his motorbike sprints. who are you to say no when ricky's opponent claws his way into your inner circle and present himself as your dream man?

really really good and underrated... i love chenle can you tell...

𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 by @chenlesfavorite ↳ motorcyclist smau | f, a | ongoing

working night shifts 24/7 at the convenience store while also supporting your boyfriend’s obsession with watching motorcyclists race is not easy, but little did you know that one of the bikers that he loves soon gets involved with you.

wdym this is ending soon... no way.... im gonna cry wtf

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆 ↬

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 by @aehyei ↳ high school au | f | 7.2k words

You love stories. If anyone would ask, you’d rather live in it then wake up another day in a world where everyone’s having the love story you’ve been daydreaming about. Of course falling in love with your best friend never came across your mind so it was a bit of a mess when you realized Jisung didn’t only view you as a ‘friend’. 

so so so so sos sos cute omfghsdjsah

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐦 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 by @jirsungs ↳ college smau | f | completed

a story about a college student enjoying her life in school perfectly fine, until one of her friends drags the group along to watch their school's band perform. little did she know that day would be marked as the day her whole world turned upside down because of a particular, nonchalant, and difficult drummer boy. a drummer boy who spilled his entire drink on her brand new outfit at a party and never came back.

i actually binged this in a day bc it was so good

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝 by @babbymochiiii ↳ discord call au (if you know where this is going...) | s | ??? words

you and jisung have discord date night, where things take a turn.

sorry guys im.. a little shameless sometimes...

𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 ↬

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 by @jaysng ↳ friends to lovers | f | idk lol

jay and mute reader both seem to like each other, just when he thinks that his confession was a pure failure the reader does something surprising.

this was just so sweet i literally fell in love with him all over again

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 by @yeonzzzn ↳ zombie apocalypse au | f, h, a, s | 26.2k words

in the middle of the apocalypse, you and jay find each other in a situation of life and death, using the protection of each other to get to the next safe zone. unfortunately for the both of you, things take a turn once secrets get revealed and the fight for survival becomes greater.

probably one of my personal favorites on this list teehee. i love jay park.

𝐖𝐄𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐔𝐈 ↬

𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨 by @wheeboo ↳ dark + psychiatric facility au | f, a, h | 12.8k words

in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind.

literally had me gripping the edge of my seat as i read this

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐇𝐄𝐄 ↬

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 by @wonbin-truther ↳ influencers smau | f, a | ongoing

sohee was a well known streamer, having grown his fanbase over covid with the game minecraft and slowly branched into other games along with sponsorships and modeling offers. he was also well known for being your number one twitter fanboy, never missing one of your posts even if fashion wasn't his greatest interest. what happens when a modeling gig brings him face to face with you?

this was a really sweet smau omfg... and sohee streamer just makes so much sense...

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍 ↬

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 by @sehunniepot ↳ disneyland cast member au | f, a, h | 12.8k words

in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind.

if y'all have anything disney related send my way cause i'll literally eat it all up. JUST LIKE THIS ONE.

𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐃𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐔 ↬

𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝 by @slytherinshua ↳ established relationship | f | ~500 words

jealous riku over seiji from whisper of the heart

i need more riku content omfg. ALSO THIS IS PERFECT? ITS JUST A DRABBLE BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH?

Your boyfriend and you decided to get the cab home after having a double date dinner with your friends. The night ended when you and Jaemin couldn’t wait anymore. During the entire dinner let’s just say your boyfriend was literally touching you at every end of your will considering how good you look it’s a torture to stare and sit still. Your boyfriend can’t wait. You didn’t know what else to do except to call early and tell your two friends you need the cab.

“Yeah sorry Mark, something came up. It was nice having dinner though with you guys.” You fake a smile at your friend and Mark being the gullible person he was believed you.

He believes that you actually had something important coming up. You’re glad your friend trusts you so much considering you’re now fighting between your inner conflict of slapping your boyfriend’s hand under the table that’s right at the hem of your panty line ready to sneak his touch in between your two pretty thigh gaps touching his hands.

You wish your frown was visible but you couldn’t make your expression obvious so now you’re just squeezing your thighs together hoping your boyfriend gets the memo that he can’t be doing this in a public restaurant, in front of your two friends.

“Yeah… I promise I’ll make it up for you, right Jaemin?” You now said turning to your boyfriend with a hidden glaring smile and your voice was hoarse and gritty when speaking to him.

Your boyfriend turns his blank gaze to Mark and his girlfriend who are watching the both of you. There was some tension between you guys especially when your expression fell into hard solid form when speaking to your boyfriend about the problem that came up. “Hm? Oh yeah, we definitely will reschedule our double date on a better day.” He says and you turn your sharp glare away standing up with your dress and Jaemin was quick enough to take his hand away from between your thighs.

Leaving the restaurant wasn’t easy either. Jaemin’s hands always found a way to grope around your waist or your ass down below your dress you keep trying to fight the urge to snap at him. You have no idea why your boyfriend was deciding to suddenly out of nowhere act out like this.

Once the cab arrives in front of the restaurant you snuck in first and Jaemin goes inside after you. The black cab had tainted windows in the back and he found that to be convenient knowing that he will not have the patience to get back home to take a taste of you. Your cab driver starts to drive when you direct him to the address of your house.

Hand snuck around your waist and Jaemin’s face was hidden on the nape of your neck breathing and taking in your scent. It was sweet and warm. It reminds him of coffee in some way. Your breath quickens when his hands caresses your thighs going up, and up, until he reaches the higher ground. Your eyes shift to your boyfriend’s stoic face that shows no emotion but flatness. You knew damn well what he was feeling behind those black eyes.

Jaemin whispers near your face, his hot breath drawing on you as if you were a white blank canvas and he was the painter. “Get on my lap baby, I need to be inside of you.”

The words he tells you were so simple but so complex knowing that you’re literally in the back of the cab on your way home and the ride from the city back to your house will be a little longer drive especially with the night life traffic going on. You want to cuss knowing how much your boyfriend’s mind was already made up. There’s no point trying to change his decision. He already knows what he wants and he needs you.

Your eyes widen as did your perfectly red lips. “Jaemin you can’t be serious right? We’re on our way home can’t you wait for a minute?” You snapped quietly knowing the driver could hear even the slightest of yells.

The situation was already arousing so much, Jaemin hearing your sharp snapping makes him think how attractive you are when you’re angry or even scolding him? Jaemin can’t handle much of your voice either he just keeps imagining flashbacks of you moaning everytime he was inside you. All those memories keep invading his brain and sight. It’s all he can see and hear nowadays was just you moaning out his name while you’re being a pillow princess in your shared double bed.

“I can’t wait. You kept me waiting long enough Y/n.”

He shakes his head as if this was already decided between the both of you. If it’s done discreetly than none of you will get caught and that’s a happy ending right?

You feel his hot breath against your cheek while his mouth plants soft and slow kisses on your jawline and down your neck just above the jawline he has just kissed. As if he was waiting for your approval. But of course he knows you will into the idea, you never leave your boyfriend behind when he wants something from you. “Baby just the tip, i promise.” He softly whispers into your ears bringing the face back up to be next to your pierced ears wearing those pretty diamond earrings.

You thickly swallow your saliva building in your mouth knowing how you’re starting to vision how he would be only inside you, not moving and not doing anything. It wouldn’t look weird if you’re sitting on your boyfriend’s lap. The driver up front wouldn’t even notice.

“Okay just the tip.” You whisper slowly. Jaemin gave a little smirk knowing you’re about to move on to his lap. The body weight pressing on his crotch while Jaemin was sneaky enough to wrap the hands on the surface of your beautiful thighs while you feel the zipper pull down below and the harden crotch pressing against the crack of your ass just makes you shiver. You’ve never done something like this with your boyfriend or even with your past lovers; but this wasn’t nearly as exciting as anything you did before and this new level of excitement and intimacy you’re about to unlock with Jaemin.

Your boyfriend pressed the tip on your entrance and slowly and surely pushed inside feeling your walls growing on him like it was a circle squeezing and squeezing him out of you even more. Your mouth parts like the waves landing on the shore as the intense pressure forming from down below stretching you out much. Your hand pressed over your mouth and you bite your palm to make any noise die off.

He slips out low groans at the back of your neck kissing down your spine while you are seating on your boyfriend’s lap casually watching your hands curling up into a ball. The warmth and fullness of your body giving him so much ecstasy.

It was unbelievable how good it feels to be inside you not moving or doing anything but it was just as intense as if he was moving around.

Your eyes waver when your boyfriend spread his kisses on your shoulders as his hands caress up and down your thighs. Your stomach was at its wits ends right now. “You feel good? I feel so good… I missed your warmth so much.” Jaemin whispers bringing his lips to your ears giving it a small loving kiss.

You breathe out heavily. “Mhm…” and your mind goes to wander many things as you try not to move too much. The back of the cab starts to move again and now you’re going through these speed bumps which makes your bodies rock even more against each other while pressing your back against his chest.

Jaemin groans deeply suddenly while he sucks on your neck, the intimacy of your bodies rocking back and forth like a carousel would makes your brains turn off and the electric impulses you feel running in your blood making it go warm when your boyfriend was kissing your skin and sucking on it causing gentle reddish marks to form. “Fuck… baby move your hips against me gently.” He pleads nearly.

You bite your tongue as you do as he said, your hips rut in small movements at the backside while you’re sitting on the lap. “Fuck, Jaemin…”

Watching you moan his name like that while trying to be quiet wasn’t working in your boyfriend’s favour, it was making your boyfriend go ballistic hearing how pretty you sound. He can’t get enough of you. It wasn’t enough for him no matter what you’re doing Jaemin keeps wanting you as if you’re gravity pulling him down with you.

His hands move inside your panties now when you least expected as you’re focusing on your body steadily keeping it on his lap as the cab shakes time to time you didn’t want to fall off. Your boyfriend was sly and he slowly rubs circles on your clit which makes you flinch at the sudden contact of his long slender fingers creating a new pleasure to enter your body. It was filling your head with joy. To feel your boyfriend down there rubbing you in circles while the driver was driving.

Trying to not make it so obvious what you’re doing you start to struggle holding it in. Jaemin saw how your eyes were watering and you’re trying not to press too much pressure otherwise you would’ve moaned a much louder tone.

“My pretty slut enjoys getting fingered by her boyfriend in the back of the cab? Oh my… Y/n you’re so dirty.”

You close your eyes as Jaemin pushed in the fingers into your wet hole making small wet noises to come out between your shaking legs as his cock was bending your walls with powerful thrusts. The intensity of him inside your interior womb was just rubbing your shoulders by his forehead while pressing such deadly wet kisses on your body, while he was nastily moving his fingers roughly in and out of you. All your broken voices in your head was killing you to let them out.

It never crossed your mind once to think your boyfriend would ever be like this in public with you.

Somehow this makes it even more arousing than you might of expected it to be. You hate how your boyfriend’s touches were engraved to your muscle memory. Every part of him was a memory you remember. It just makes your walls crumble and your guard will always be lowered when your boyfriend touched you. He knows your love language was physical touch as well and this made it all so much harder to ignore your boyfriend.

“Fuckfuck… Jaemin… stop we will get caught.” You eagerly tell him when you’re feeling your stomach flipping upside down.

Jaemin smirks with his eyes watching yours. They were so crystal clear and they are watering at every second the fingers slipping out of your wet cunt. “You think I actually care if we get caught baby? Darling don’t be afraid and give our cab driver a good show.”

He was teasing you, it’s obvious but in the moment you feel everything hitting you with all hundred percent. You bite on your inner cheek as the pace of the fingers were increasing the amount to bury deep in your sweet soothing cunt as your breath quickens and now your chest was pounding full on with your heart racing at each moment he was latching at your body keeping you close.

You moan into your palm hurriedly, your moans were getting too hard to keep track of. Jaemin’s fingers were kissing your thick and soft walls while his free hand was running in your thick and silky soft hair, as if he was brushing them away from your face so he can see how red your cheeks were.

In your mind you were a literal mess. Shaking and trembling with your weight pressing on the lower body with your boyfriend’s cock deeply buried twitching while he occasionally thrusts inside while your nub was quickly teased between the two fingers.

Jaemin’s thumb and index finger pinch at your clit causing you to cry out suddenly while you had your teeth biting at your own tongue.

“Ah! Shit… shit… m’feels so good.” You mumble you couldn’t even think of anything else to distract yourself from this. All you had on your mind was how much you want to cum on his fingers. Even the scorching knot heating your abdomen below was threatening to burst.

Jaemin knew you were about to release before you knew it yourself. It’s like you couldn’t even keep track of your own body’s release and Jaemin was making sure your body remembers him so much you’re going to scream his name out. It was like a promise song he will always keep you at.

The release you didn’t even know was coming had you suddenly moaning much louder and you failed to keep it inside as you bury your head in your two palms out as your boyfriend’s fingers were rubbing fanning up and down on your red swollen causing clit causing your folds to tear open a powerful orgasm with your own pussy juice making your legs split open and shatter as it all falls out of you like a thunderstorm before the calm.

It didn’t even occur to you that you’re about to cum but your boyfriend had you thinking so much you were blanking out in between the intense moments of his hand between your thighs while he was inside your cunt so deep you can barely describe how far he was inside of you.

Jaemin’s trousers were wet and he was enjoying your leak so much he didn’t stop moving the fingers against your clit as he made you spill so much more. At this point you were bouncing on his lap as you’re crying out with pleasure for your own salvation and help right now.

“That’s it, good girl… good girl.” Jaemin coos against your face kissing your cheek as you’re here breathing and panting heavily with your half eyelids open.

At the same time he saw your droopy expression telling him how good you’re feeling. It must’ve been like you were put into a different dream, or perhaps it feels like a dream to you knowing how good your body was under going underneath what he caused you to feel.

“Ahh… fuck I came… ahhh no way…”

You whimper a few curse spells while you try to move on the lap while your boyfriend’s cock was still buried deeply in your folds. All your orgasm was creaming now against the tip of his shaft.

Your brain took a few seconds to register that you squirted all over the cab flooring and his trousers. Now it was everything so wet you didn’t even think you could orgasm this way. Your dress was slightly crumpled up. Your boyfriend’s clothes are wrinkled and wet from your squirting. Your eyes were feeling heavy as much as your red lipstick was stained when Jaemin brought his face over to rub his thumb over your bottom lip that has little drool from your moans.

The lipstick smudged over to your corner of the lips and the chin while Jaemin looks at you, you look like a messy considering your hair was slightly more messy and you press your mouth together softly when you’ve calmed down.

“Where are we…? Almost home?” You mumble and Jaemin looks up front with a smile seeing how your cab was at the red light.

“We’re at a red light, princess.” He whispers brushing some hair out of your face. Your eyes were tired and you manage to see up front the driver gawking his attention over at you both in the back seats while his eyes glued to you and the entire mess at the back of the cab while your boyfriend was having his hands possessively wrapped around your waist.

The driver shakes his head in slight disappointment and also shock knowing what you guys did there but he didn’t say anything. But you knew deep down some minor shame and at the same time your heart was shattering in embarrassment.

But your boyfriend? He had no shame. He was shameless and smirking as he squeezed his arms around you some more.

“Since we’re at a Red Light, can you give me another orgasm Y/n?” The shameless smirk on Jaemin’s face makes you think he must be the incarnate of the devilish spirit. “I think our driver wants to see more of you…”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“We need to hurry, or Coach is going to kill me!” you protest, glancing nervously down the long, dimly lit corridor as Jaemin drags you along. The empty hallways of the gymnasium echo with the sound of your footsteps.

“Don’t rush me; I barely get to see you anymore,” Jaemin murmurs, glancing back at you with a playful smile. He halts in front of a sturdy supply closet, testing the handle with hopeful fingers, but it creaks in protest, remaining locked. After a few moments of searching, you finally discover a door that opens, revealing a small, cluttered room filled with unused equipment and old cheerleading mats.

You’d been in the midst of cheer practice when Jaemin had appeared, smoothie in hand and a teasing glint in his eye as he claimed he was there for “encouragement.” You knew better; he was just finding an excuse to steal a few moments with you. He was undeniably a clingy boyfriend, but you didn’t mind at all. You didn’t mind as long as it wasn’t competition season. As cheer captain, you had to dedicate extra hours to perfect your routines, which meant you hadn’t spent as much time with Jaemin as he would’ve liked.

Without warning, he pushes you into the room and pins your back against the door, leaning in for a passionate kiss with a hunger that sends a thrill down your spine. You can feel warmth radiating from his body as he presses against you, his hands exploring your body. Soon his rough hands grip your bare thighs, the spandex shorts you wore to practice, leaving little to the imagination.

You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your heart racing in sync with the urgency of his touch. You love it when he gets like this—intensity clouding his usual calm demeanor. There’s an animalistic need in his hands and lips, and as you kiss him back with equal fervor, you can’t help but feel exhilarated by the moment. Lately, it seemed as if he was overflowing with desire, as if not tasting you would be the death of him. The heat in the room, the thrill of being hidden away, and the intoxicating electricity between you made it clear how much you both craved these stolen moments together.

You reluctantly pull away from Jaemin’s lips, trying to catch your breath. “Jaem, I have to go back,” you manage to say, but he responds swiftly, reconnecting your lips before you can finish.

“I’m serious,” you protest, trying to pull back again, but he isn’t having it. “your not listening”. You mumble against his lips.

He buries his face in your neck and presses his hips into yours, causing an intoxication friction. You whine out, resolve fading quickly. “You don’t understand,” you groan, but even you can hear the lack of conviction in your voice. It’s hard to think straight when he’s like this, his presence overwhelming, holding you captive in a whirlwind of feeling.

“Just a little bit longer, please,” he begs, his voice low and pleading as his hands grip your hips, trying to pull you impossibly closer. "Fuck,” he moans into your skin as he dry-humps you like a dog in heat.

“Alright, that’s enough,” you say firmly, pulling his head back by his hair. “Down. Now,” you command.

As much as you would love to stay here with Jaemin, the thought of facing whatever cruel and unusual punishment your coach would devise for you if you were late back from break for the third time this week sends a shiver down your spine.

You catch a glimpse of disappointment flickering in his eyes as he reluctantly pulls away, breaking the spell between you. “I’ll make it up to you later, I promise,” you say, your voice hopefull.

He gives you a soft nod, a hint of a smile returning to his lips as he helps you smooth your hair and adjusts your outfit. You both exit the room, the atmosphere still crackling with unresolved tension.

You hurry back down the hallway, your heart racing, and manage to slip into the practice room just seconds before your coach bursts in, the door swinging open with a heavy thud behind her.

"Alright, where we left off!

You strolled toward the gym, the warm spring weather embracing you as you wore shorts and a tank top. The sun beat down on your back, but you didn’t mind. With a refreshing swig from your sports bottle, you adjusted your cheer bag higher on your shoulder. Soon, fall would arrive, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement at the thought.

Fall was more than just a beautiful backdrop; it was your favorite season for all the excitement it brought. You loved the way the world transformed into a tapestry of warm hues, but what truly made your heart race was the arrival of competition season for cheerleading. You could already picture the adrenaline-fueled practices and the thrill of showcasing your hard work on the mat. This season felt like a fresh start, full of promise and unforgettable moments waiting to unfold.

Today was open tryouts, and with only a few spots available, the decision-making process was bound to be challenging. You knew that choosing who would make the cut could mean letting go of some promising talent. You pushed open the doors to the gym, spotting a few members already setting some practice mats up.

“Hey, Nayeon!” you called out to your co-captain, who was busy overseeing the preparations as Coach Kim stepped outside. “How many do we have to potentially show?” You set your cheer bag down with a thud.

Nayeon flipped through the clipboard in her hands, deep in thought. “Maybe five? Seven?” she replied before finally settling on a number. Then, with a slight smile, she added, “Also, you’re not going to be too happy about who shows up.”

“It doesn’t matter; we need all the help we can get,” you shrugged, determined to keep a positive outlook. Last season had been tough after losing a few teammates, and it had taken a toll on your routines. You just wanted to get things rolling again.

“Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Nayeon replied, shaking her head slightly.

Once everything was set up, all you had to do was wait. Tryouts officially started at 9 a.m. The first girl walked in at 8:30 and greeted you, Nayeon, and Coach Kim as you all sat at the folding table in the center of the gym. With no one else around yet, it felt like the perfect opportunity to chat one-on-one with her. You smiled, noting her potential. There was something admirable about her drive; arriving early was a smart move if she wanted to stand out.

You put a star next to her name: Park Soo-young.

After another 30 minutes, a few more people started to filter into the gym. You were pretty satisfied with the turnout so far—there were about ten hopefuls waiting. You decided to wait an extra five minutes for anyone else who might want to join, and just as you were about to begin, the door swung open again. In walked Jaemin. You sent him a quick smile before turning back to the group, feeling a little more energized now that he was there to watch the tryouts. You adored how he supported everything you did.

Your coach began the introductions, and you glanced over at Jaemin, surprised to see him standing so close to the group. Normally, he would settle into the bleachers. You shot him a stern look, hoping to indicate he was interrupting, but he ignored you, remaining where he was and listening intently to your coach.

As everyone took turns introducing themselves—each one making an effort to impress—you couldn’t shake the feeling of annoyance nagging at you. Then, to your disbelief, Jaemin decided to introduce himself too.

He wouldn’t.

After the introductions, Coach Kim had the group do warm-ups, and you and Nayeon moved to the floor to lead them. You tried your best not to be distracted, but you couldn’t help but steal glances at Jaemin as he followed along, effortlessly keeping up with the exercises.

Once the warm-ups were complete, you and Nayeon introduced the group to a few cheers, a short dance routine, and some basic jumps. While some trainees struggled to keep pace, Jaemin seemed to pick everything up with ease. You were pleasantly surprised at how good he was; you didn’t recall him ever mentioning having a background in dance or gymnastics.

Next came the individual evaluations, allowing you more one-on-one time to interact with the trainees. You already had your favorites in mind, ready to advocate for them to join the team. At the top of your list was Soo-young, who had mentioned she preferred to be called Joy. After your conversation with her, you found yourself even more impressed. She had a great attitude and an eagerness to learn that you knew would fit perfectly with the team's dynamic.

As much as you hated to admit it, Jaemin had made it onto your list—albeit at the bottom. You weren’t sure if he was joking or if he was genuinely serious about joining the team. He had never expressed any interest in being part of it before, but you knew he wouldn’t play around with something so important to you. When your eyes met again, he shot you a confident smile.

You dismissed the floor for a break while you and Nayeon spoke with Coach Kim. As you discussed your picks, you found that most of your choices aligned.

“I really like that Jaemin kid,” Coach Kim said. “He’s got a great attitude and a solid build; we could definitely use him as a spotter.”

At the mention of his name, you bristled. If Jaemin was chosen and didn’t follow through, it would reflect poorly on you as cheer captain.

“I’m going to head to the bathroom while they’re on break,” you announced, your tone casual but your mind racing with thoughts.

Coach Kim didn’t look up from her notes, merely giving you a nod. Nayeon shot you a knowing look that confirmed she understood exactly where you were headed.

You stepped outside and quickly spotted your target. Once you were far enough from the gym door to avoid any prying ears, you let out a stern, "NA JAEMIN!"

He turned around at the sound of his name, flashing what he probably thought was his most charming "I’m innocent" smile. A mix of exasperation and disbelief washed over you as he approached, looking completely unfazed.

“Quiet,” you said, shooting him a glare that could have silenced anyone else, but only seemed to amuse him further. Jaemin leaned in slightly, his smile widening, clearly enjoying the banter despite the tension. You took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. “We need to talk about you and this cheer team.”

“Ah,” he says, like he forgot something “I should have told you i was coming to try outs but I wanted to surprise you,” He shot you another charming smile, the kind that usually melted your frustration, but today, it only deepened your irritation.

“You know that's not what I mean,” you said, your tone turning serious. Jaemin straightened up at the look on your face. “If this is some sort of silly plan to spend more time with me, you’ll definitely find yourself in the doghouse.”

“I—” he began, momentarily at a loss for words.

You could tell he was definitely using this as a way to be closer to you. A part of you found it endearing; his eagerness to share experiences with you was cute. But cheerleading was important to you, and his joining the team simply because you were on it felt like it undermined the efforts of everyone else who worked hard to earn their spots.

“I wanted to join the team to spend more time with you,” he admitted, and you opened your mouth to scold him. But he cut you off, rushing to finish, “But! But! I’m serious about putting in the work to earn my spot. I’m not going to just up and quit, I promise. I’ve always thought your practices looked fun!”

“Jaemin, you mostly come to my practices to watch me jump around in a short skirt. Let’s not lie,” you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, that’s also true,” he conceded, “but I’m serious! Give me a shot! What do I have to do to prove it?” He begged, his eyes wide and pleading.

He was wielding the saddest puppy dog eyes you had ever seen, and though you wanted to stay angry, he knew your weaknesses all too well.

“Ughhhhhh,” you groaned, and his smile widened as he sensed victory. “Fine! I swear, Jaemin, if you slack off for even a second, I'll kick your ass—not only as your girlfriend but also as your captain.”

“Oooh, my captain? That sounds kind of hot,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

You shot him a glare. “You think I’m playing? Okay, bet. You want to spend time with me? Fine, but no sex until after competitions.”

His face fell at your words, and you turned to head back to the gym, satisfied with your decision.

It was officially the first day of practice, and you were determined to make your new teammates feel welcomed. As they walked in, you greeted each of them with a smile, trying to ease any nerves they might have had. With only five spots available, the selection process had been intense, and after careful consideration, you were thrilled with the choices. Joy was your flyer, with Yeji and Jisoo as the two bases, and Shotaro and Jaemin as your two spotters.

You felt grateful that Shotaro made the team; his bright personality was infectious, and you had no doubt he would lift everyone’s spirits. But you couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in your chest at having Jaemin on the team. He wasn’t the only one missing the quality time you two used to spend together. Still, anxiety gnawed at you as well. There were so many things that could go wrong, and you wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him every second. As captain, you needed to lead the team, not babysit. You could only hope he was taking this seriously.

Jaemin had a crucial role—if he messed up or half-heartedly approached any stunt, someone could end up getting injured. That reality weighed heavily on your mind, especially knowing he had to be responsible for both the safety of the stunt group and the flyer.

As practice began, your coach introduced the new members and then called them over to have their sizes taken for uniforms. You couldn’t help but internally squeal at the thought. Jaemin would look so cute in his uniform, and the thought made your heart flutter. You glanced over at him as he laughed with Shotaro, and you felt a surge of pride. Jaemin had a carefree demeanor and a smile that lit up the room.

“Alright, team!” you called, your voice authoritative yet encouraging. “Let’s have a great first practice! Remember, communication is key, and safety comes first. Don’t be afraid to ask for help or speak up if something doesn’t feel right.”

“I mean, he’s keeping up, so what’s the problem?” Nayeon said, taking a bite out of her fries. You sat in the campus café, surrounded by your friends, as their voices raised in an animated debate.

Jaemin had joined the squad just a week ago, and though his intentions had been clear to everyone, he insisted they were purely to support you—his girlfriend.

“But he’s only here because his girlfriend is cheer captain,” Seungkwan argued, crossing his arms defiantly.

Seungkwan was not just your fellow teammate but also a good friend. Right now, he had his sights set on Jaemin and was pressing you hard about his place on the team.

“Kwan, come on! He’s taking practice seriously. Give him a chance!” you defended your boyfriend, feeling a surge of frustration.

“I don’t like this! He’s not even committed to the team; he’s just committed to you!” Seungkwan shot back, his tone firm.

You hated arguing with him because—let’s be honest—he often had a point. He didn't easily back down, and you respected that about him, even if it made things more complicated.

“Can we just drop it? He’s on the team now, whether you like it or not.” Nayeon rolled her eyes, trying to intervene.

“I’m just saying spotters are crucial, and Coach will not allow us to compete without everyone spotted. You know how she is about safety.” Seungkwan crossed his arms tighter, clearly not backing down.

Point for Seungkwan. You sighed, trying to compose your thoughts.

“I understand that, and I agree! But I know Jaemin. He’s capable, and he cares about this. He’s not just here for fun—he wants to prove himself.” You took a deep breath, hoping to quell the tension brewing around the table. “Besides, if there’s ever been a time where we could support each other, it’s now.

Seungkwan softened a little but still looked unconvinced. “I just want what’s best for the team. If he fails to keep up with the rest of us… it could put everyone in danger.”

“I get it,” you replied earnestly. “But I really think Jaemin is taking this seriously. He might surprise you.”

Nayeon reached out and squeezed your hand in solidarity. “Look, let’s just give him a shot. If he doesn’t work out, we can revisit this conversation later. No need to stress about it now.”

You appreciated Nayeon's attempt to lighten the mood, but Seungkwan was still shaking his head. “Fine. But if anything goes wrong during practice, I’m holding you both accountable.”

You met up with Jaemin later that day at his dorm, and the moment you walked in, his bright smile washed over you like a warm blanket, pulling you out of the slump caused by your earlier argument with your friends.

“So, how was I today at practice?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation as he awaited any critique.

“Honestly, you were pretty great! Most of the team loves you; I think they're impressed, but—”

“But?” he prompted, his expression shifting slightly from excitement to curiosity.

“Jaemin, please promise to take this seriously.”

“I told you already, I am serious,” he replied, a hint of concern creeping into his voice.

“I know, I know. I'm just nervous,” you admitted, biting your lip.

He moved closer and pulled you into his embrace, cradling you tightly against him. He kissed the top of your head, and the warmth of his presence made your heart calm. “I know I joined on impulse, but I'm serious about this and even more serious about you. I won’t let you down,” he comforted you, his voice steady and soothing.

“Pinky?” you asked, raising your pinky finger playfully.

“Promise,” he chuckled, intertwining his pinky with yours in a solemn gesture that meant everything to you. “Alright, enough about practice. Want to watch a movie?” he asked, as he pulled out his laptop and set up his bed for optimal cuddling.

“Of course,” you replied, settling in comfortably under his sheets.

You had to give the man some credit. You had never seen Jaemin so focused at practice. He took his role as a spotter seriously, and there hadn’t been any accidents under his watch. Jaemin and Shotaro worked seamlessly together, and you were grateful he’d formed a connection with someone else on the team. It was good to see him thriving in this way.

You thought he would struggle to keep his hands off you, but Jaemin was managing just fine. Surprisingly, it was you who found it difficult to maintain your composure. Jaemine looked so sexy during practice and now you could easily understand all the times he would drag you away to get frisky in the back rooms of the gym.

Spotters call the shot during the stunt as they have a better vision of the overall stunt compared to the flyers and bases and Jaemin was hot when he was shouting commands. By the end of practice, he’d be dripping with sweat and panting for breath, and you had to pinch yourself several times just to regain your focus.

Today was a challenge. The uniforms had come in for the newbies and you had followed Jaemin into the office to grab his size. With the locker room empty from your early arrival, you didn’t think twice about sneaking in behind him as he went to try it on.

The spandex cropped long-sleeve fit him deliciously tight, accentuating every curve of his toned body. His pecs were visible through the fabric, and the cropped design left just a sliver of his abdomen exposed—making it hard to look away. The matching bottoms clung to his thighs in a way that made you feel a pang of desire.

You needed him. Now. Your heart raced as you fought the urge to step closer, to feel the warmth of his body against yours. Every fantasy you had been nursing flared to life in an instant, and you struggled to maintain your composure, the urge to take action overwhelming.

He catches your lustful stare and shakes his head in playful disapproval. “Eyes up here, babe,” he warns, his tone light but with an undeniable edge of confidence.

You don’t even reply, still ogling him no better than a man would. “Turn around for me,” you tease.

He shoots you a smile, a mix of pride and amusement dancing in his eyes, and complies. You watch as he turns, showcasing the fitted uniform that hugs him in all the right places.

“How do I look?” he asks, glancing at himself in the mirror.

"Like I’ill have to fight someone who stares for too long," you say, and Jaemin laughs, not realizing how serious you are.

You had never imagined what Jaemin would look like in a cheer uniform before, and honestly, you were grateful. No image you had tried to conjure in your mind could ever come close to this.

“Come here, baby,” you say, your voice dripping with a sultry lilt.

“Practice starts soon; we need to start warming up,” he replies, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in his tone. You can tell the resolve isn’t truly there. Jaemin was an even nastier dog than you when it came to fulfilling his needs. As he stands there, the tension thick between you, you can practically see him weighing his options, the desire flickering in his eyes in perfect sync with your own

“They can wait. I need some one on one you” you smirk before standing up from the bench you were previously sitting on.

You close the distance between you, pushing him up against the lockers with a playful urgency. Jaemin looks down at you, a knowing smirk playing on his lips that suggests you might have just stepped right into his trap. The confidence radiating from him makes your heart race, and you can sense the shift in power; he knows he’s the one leading this dance, and you’re more than willing to follow his lead. The moment hangs between you, electric and charged.

“What about competitions? I thought you said I had to wait,” he replies. The challenge in his gaze is hard to ignore.

"Just stop talking, Jaem," you say, rolling your eyes as you lean in, capturing his lips with yours. The sensation sends a thrill through you, as you find yourselves chest to chest. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer. With a loud rattle, your back collides with the lockers, and he effortlessly lifts you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The kiss is heavy and messy, a tantalizing rush as you both know your time is limited before someone walks in. Fortunately, you're tucked away at the back of the locker room, giving you just enough time to react before anyone sees you.

Jaemin pulls you both away from the lockers and sits down on a nearby bench. You straddle his hips, eager to close the distance between you, and you waste no time grinding against him. A low moan escapes Jaemin as he bites your bottom lip, his gaze fueled with desire as you work him through the thin material of his uniform.

You were wearing sweats that drove you wild, the thick fabric preventing you from feeling him as intimately as you desired. With a sense of urgency, you stand up to undress and as the material slips away, Jaemin practically groans at the sight of you.

“Fuck baby, I need this. I’ve been waiting,” he palms himself, gripping his length through the fabric with a hiss “It's yours,” he promises

It's like the gate holding back your desires suddenly burst open, unleashing a torrent of emotions. You settle back onto him, helping to free him from the confines of his uniform. You were already soaking wet and you cringed a little at the mess you were about to make on his uniform pants but you were too impatient to wait for him to pull them down.

You line him up and sink down, taking all of him. It was like both of you were extra sensitive to each other's touch. Hungry for more, your knees dig painfully into the wood bench as you ride him. The pure blissed-out look on his face made it all worth it. Jaemin wasn't one to moan—his voice usually carried an air of authority. He'd tell you how good you felt and how desperately he wanted you, his deep groans resonating with pleasure but today was different. It was as if he couldn’t utter a single word.

Mouth dropped open in silent moans as he gripped harshly at the skin of your waist. “Fu—” he tried to say but nothing came out.

You lean down, kissing into his open mouth, urging him to kiss you back. You lean back against his knees and grind down dangerously. Jaemin closes his eyes tight at the sensation and his hips rut up into your finally taking control. He holds you down still against him as he thrusts up inside of your tight, dripping cunt. The locker room echoing with his sloppy wet thrusts. He was losing it and you were lucky you had practice after this or he would have thrown you down against the cool floor of the gym and fucked you to tears. A hand reaches out, firm yet surprisingly gentle, gripping your throat with just the right amount of pressure. His fingers dig in softly, and you feel a rush of exhilaration as his gaze pierces through the sweat-soaked strands of his bangs.

“You fucking slut. You teasing fucking slut.” He seems to have finally found his voice: “You're gonna take this fucking dick. Feel that shit”

Too sensative, his words were driving you over the edge and you couldn't help but clench down against him violently. “Just like that baby, let me have it,” he growls.

Jaemin was usually a bit wild, but after being locked up for so long, he couldn't contain himself any longer. There was no sense of decorum as you both made a mess of his uniform and the bench beneath you.

"Do you hear me?" he demands, slapping your cheek lightly—not hard enough to sting, but enough to draw your focus back to him. “Tell me how much you love the way I fuck you”

"Jaemin, Im close,” you whine, tears threatening to spill.

“Thats not what I fucking asked you”

“I love it! Fuck, please let me cum,” you cry, trying to move your hips against him as much as you could, chasing your high.

Muffled chatter echoed from outside the locker room, the team likely filtering in to start the day. You didn’t have much time left.

“Fuck, I got you, baby. I got you,” he groans, speeding up his movements, needing you to finish before you two were caught. You can hear the muffled sounds of teammates gathering outside, their voices rising as they joke and jostle each other. The minutes tick away, each second stretching into eternity as the pressure mounts.

His hand reaches out and rubs your clit harshly before he leaves bites along your chest and neck, knowing it drives you crazy.

You fall over the edge before you know it and you cream all over him. The vice-like grip your core has on him during your orgarm pushes him to his own and he throws his head back with a sound that was a little too loud so you clamp a hand around his mouth. His eyes snap to yours and the eye contact he holds as the tremors from his orgasm wrack his body almost has you cumming again.

You sit in silence for a moment longer, gathering your thoughts, when the door to the locker room swings open and voices spill into the space. Hastily, you scramble to get dressed while Jaemin swiftly adjusts his uniform. Just as you’re putting the finishing touches on your hair, Seungkwan rounds the corner, wearing a curious expression. He studies you for a brief second, his brow furrowing slightly as he takes in the scene.

“You missed warm-ups,” he remarks, tone laced with judgment as he raises an eyebrow.

You screwed up. You would have preferred getting caught by your coach over Seungkwan. He already disapproved of Jaemin being on the team, and now here you were, caught slacking off just as he had predicted.

“I was helping Jaemin with his uniform,” you offer weakly, trying to explain.

Seungkwan's eyes shift to Jaemin, and he gives him a scrutinizing look. “Looks more like you were helping him take it off,” he retorts, rolling his eyes. “Just go change. Naeyeon led warm-ups, but Coach is looking for you.”

Fortunately, Jaemin stays silent throughout Seungkwan's reprimand; any comment from him would only make things worse. Yet, you can't miss the glare he sends Seungkwan's way, a flash of defiance in his eyes.

Seungkwan gave you a proper talking-to after practice that day. Though you regretted nothing that happened between you and Jaemin, you both decided it was for the best to keep your distance during practice. Aside from that, things were going remarkably well. You were landing your routines with ease, and despite new members joining the team late, everyone seemed to gel effortlessly. Even Jaemin and Seungkwan appeared to be getting along better, which was a pleasant surprise.

Everything was going great until it wasn’t.

During a particularly intense practice session, the atmosphere shifted. The air crackled with tension, and you could feel the unease creeping in. It started with a minor mistake from one of the new members during a routine. Their falter caught everyone off guard, leading to an abrupt halt as Seungkwan’s voice rose with frustration. Before long, it escalated into an argument over blame and expectations, and the camaraderie built over the last few weeks began to unravel.

More and more mistakes began to occur on the mat during practice. One day, while attempting a needle, Joy lost her balance. Thankfully, her spotter reacted quickly and caught her before she hit the mat, but in the process, he twisted his ankle. Hanbin, one of your best spotters, was out of commission, and his absence left a noticeable gap in the team's dynamics.

In the wake of Hanbin's injury, Coach Kim decided to appoint Jaemin as Joy’s new spotter. At first, it seemed to restore some normalcy to the team; everyone adapted quickly to the change. However, for you, the situation felt anything but normal.

You had always prided yourself on not being the jealous type. Jaemin had a way of showering you with attention that made it hard to believe you could even possess a jealous bone in your body. Even before he became Joy's spotter, you watched him work with other girls without any feelings of insecurity. What felt different this time was the undeniable chemistry that seemed to spark between Jaemin and Joy.

Perhaps the most difficult part for you was having to avoid Jaemin throughout practice, while he shared warm smiles and easy conversations with someone else. Each laugh he exchanged with Joy felt like a reminder of what you were missing,

Joy was amazing, and you tried your best to shake off any negative feelings you had towards her. She was hard-working, kind, and honest. You trusted her, and even more so, you trusted Jaemin.

Despite the connection that seemed to be forming between him and Joy, you reminded yourself that it was rooted in teamwork and camaraderie, nothing more. You wanted to believe that Jaemin’s warmth and attention were still yours to cherish, regardless of how seamlessly he clicked with others. Yet, every time you saw him share a laugh with Joy, a small part of you struggled to silence the voices of doubt creeping into your mind.

As the captain of the cheer team, you had too much on your plate to let your thoughts linger on jealousy or insecurities. With competitions less than a month away, your focus needed to be on preparing your team, especially after the sudden loss of Hanbin. You could feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on you.

You knew you had to keep morale high while also ensuring everyone was on point with their routines. Each practice was crucial, and you couldn’t afford any distractions—neither from your emotions nor from the situation with Jaemin and Joy.

“You need to pull it together! You’re the captain, and we can’t afford for you to make silly mistakes,” your coach called out, her voice sharp and clear, echoing across the gym floor. You steeled yourself, determined not to let her words shake you.

“Yes, Coach,” you replied, your tone emotionless.

You had messed up the routine after losing your place during a tumble, causing a domino effect as others struggled to find their spots. Deep down, you wanted to argue that it was an honest mistake, but the truth was you had been distracted—distracted by Jaemin and Joy. They were off to the side during your routine, and the way she smiled at him, coupled with the soft smile he returned, made your heart clench painfully. It felt like you were trapped in a cheesy romcom where your boyfriend was the leading man, and you were just an extra in the background.

As more little mistakes crept into your performance during practices, you felt a wave of frustration wash over you. With each misstep, the weight of your responsibilities as captain grew heavier, and it made you feel inadequate. Jaemin had tried to talk to you about it to lift your spirits, but you had shut down his attempts.

Seungkwan corners you during break, and for a moment, you brace yourself for a lecture. Instead, his expression softens, and he opens his arms to you. In an instant, your resolve crumbles, and you step into his embrace. Seungkwan has been one of your best friends for a reason—he knows you better than anyone, able to read your emotions without needing to ask.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.

“It’s so stupid,” you choke out, feeling embarrassed by your own feelings. “I’m letting something so small ruin my performances.”

“Is it Jaemin?” he inquires, his tone laced with understanding.

“I guess I just miss him. I feel so childish—it’s ridiculous. I see him every day after practice, and when he shows attention to someone else, I just lose it.”

You cringe internally at the irony of it all. Not too long ago, you used to scold Jaemin for being clingy, insisting that a few hours of practice wasn’t a big deal and that he needed to learn to be patient. Now, you find yourself grappling with the very feelings you once criticized him for.

“You should talk to him about it. You know he would stop time for you if you asked,” Seungkwan adds his gentle advice. “You’re human. Everyone has feelings, and he’d want to know how you’re feeling.” Seungkwan pulls back slightly, looking you in the eye with that reassuring gaze of his.

“Fine, your right I need to get this straightened out before competitions.”

It was officially fall, and the warm hues of autumn surrounded you, calmed your nerves as you strolled through campus, inhaling the crisp, fresh air. After practice, you made your way home, steeling yourself for the conversation you planned to have with Jaemin later. A hot shower felt like the perfect remedy to ease your tension and clear your mind.

As the steam enveloped you, you reflected on how sweet Jaemin had been these past few weeks, always checking in on you and making sure you felt okay. You realized you owed it to him to be honest about your feelings and let him know what was on your mind.

You had texted Jaemin to let him know you were on the way to his dorm but you didnt get a response. You shrug it off and continue on. You knock on his door and his roommate opens the door.

“What’s up?” Jeno asks, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Where’s Jaemin?” you respond, equally puzzled.

“I thought he was with you. He’s still at practice,” Jeno replies, offering you an apologetic shrug.

“Thanks,” you say, your voice coming off a bit more irritably than you intended.

You turn on your heel and head back to the gym, counting backward from ten to calm your nerves. You were being irrational; he was just at practice—practicing. It’s what you should be doing too if you want to make it to the finals of the competition.

As you push open the doors to the gym, you stifle a groan at the sight before you. Jaemin and Joy are alone on the mats, and he’s spotting her as she attempts a backhandspring back tuck. When she lands it flawlessly, he cheers for her with such genuine enthusiasm.

He’s being nice. He’s being NICE.

You remind yourself of this over and over, trying to steady your racing heart and push down the flicker of jealousy rising within you.

Finally, he notices your presence and the way his face lights up eases your frustrations a little. “Baby! Shit Im sorry I didn’t notice the time. Where you waiting for me” he says before walking over to grab his things.

Finally, he notices your presence, and the way his face lights up eases your frustration a little. “Baby! Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t notice the time. Were you waiting for me?” he asks, rushing over to grab his things.

“I tried to call,” you reply flatly.

“I'm sorry, my phone was in my bag,” he says, inching closer and taking your hand in his.

Joy stands across the room and sends you a smile and a wave. “Sorry, my spotter is still out, and I really want to perfect my back handspring!”

You sigh—you could never hate her. “Your form is great! I appreciate you putting in the extra hours; I can see how much this team means to you.”

Your words bring a beaming smile to her face, and you can tell it’s exactly the motivation she needed.

You were captain before anything, you would always support your teammates.

You and Jaemin walk back to your dorm in silence, his voice filling the space as he rambles on about practice. He seems to genuinely enjoy it, and you recall how he once mentioned his friends teased him about first joining the team, calling him a princess. Yet, even they started showing up to support him.

“Are you okay?” he asks, noticing your quietness.

“I just feel really, really stupid,” you admit, unable to meet his gaze.

“Nothing you do is ever stupid, don’t say that,” he scolds gently. He stops walking and tilts your chin up, locking eyes with you. “You’re not stupid.”

You pout at him, the frustration bubbling inside.

“Say it,” he commands, playfully squishing your cheeks together.

“I’m not shtupith,” you mumble, and he leans in, pecking your lips with a smile.

“There she is~” he coos, a grin breaking across your face despite yourself. “Now talk to me,” he says, interlacing your fingers as you continue walking.

You hesitate, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

“I guess I’ve been feeling jealous lately. You’ve been spending so much time with Joy, and—” You cut yourself off with an exasperated sigh, realizing how selfish it sounds now that it’s out in the open.

“Continue,” he encourages softly.

“It’s just hard not talking to you during practice and then seeing you with her, all pearly-white smiles,” you admit bitterly, a knot forming in your stomach.

“I understand” He says. “I haven’t been giving you enough attention”

“No its not that Jaemin you have been great im just selfish” you say.

“Nothin selfish about wanting whats your baby, its ok” he says eyes darkening “i’ll just have to help you remember that im all yours”

You know that look in his eyes and that put a little pep in your step as Jaemin stalks you from behind like a predator.

You were excited for what he had in store for you.

When you finally arrive back home, he’s on you in an instant. It’s been a while since you last felt his touch—most nights after practice, you’ve been too exhausted to engage in your usual routine. He’s still dressed in his practice clothes: a simple tank top and sweats.

Jaemin in a tank top is like a refreshing rain in the desert—not because it’s rare, but because it’s a blessing. Each kiss pulls him deeper into you, making it harder for him to pull away. He’s stealing the air from your lungs, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your hands wander lightly over his broad shoulders, toned arms, and slim waist before they find their way back up, tangling in his hair.

Your movements weren't hurried; they were intentional, savoring every moment. He gently walked you backward until you were laid flat on the mattress. Embraced by his presence, you felt enveloped in his scent, his touch, and the depth of his love. As he slowly shed you of your clothes, silence enveloped the room; neither of you wanted to break the spell. You simply allowed yourselves to get lost in each other.

Every inch of skin laid bare to him was met with tender kisses, warm and sweet, until you were completely exposed. He kissed his way down your body, pausing to place a soft kiss on your abdomen. The eye contact you shared in that moment sent a flutter of butterflies dancing in your stomach, igniting a mix of awe and desire.

He's nipping and leaving teasing licks on the inside of your thighs before he finally gets to where you need him most. Lips meet your clit in a wet kiss and then he's dipping his tongue to swipe through you until it's flattened against your clit and he's wrapping his lips around you again. You relax your thighs as best you can, letting him have his way with you. A lazy hand pushes his bangs back so you can look him in the eyes as he tastes you.

His eyes were so intense. Jaemin was mostly known for his beautiful smile but for you, it was the eyes that really did it. He had such strong, expressive eyes. Just by looking at them, you could see all the nasty things he wanted to do to you.

The hands that rested gently on your thighs began to explore, gliding across your body with a delicate touch. They roamed slowly, tracing the curves and contours, igniting sensations that sent shivers through you. One hand found its way to your chest, caressing while he brought the other down to tease your entrance. Hes pressing one into you hooking it sensually before another joins. Hes so sloppy, mouth making slick, intoxicating sounds that filled the air around you. Each flick of his tongue made your eyes roll into the back of your head. His fingers pumped, twisted, and curled as he began to coax an orgasm out of you.

“Come on baby, look at me,” he says once he notices your eyes closed in pleasure.

“Why are you not looking at my pretty face? Are you gonna cum?” he teases.

Your back arches and you lose it. Your body convulses and you're making a mess of his already glossy lips.

He leaves a stinging slap to the side of your thigh. “Be so lucky I'm being nice; you know better. Who said you could cum?”

You whined at his tone, knowing you were going to be in trouble. “Fucking spoiled. You just take what you want” He sits up and pulls his tank top over his head. “Turn around”

You do as you’re told and you hear him shuffle behind you, probably taking off his sweats. Then you feel him. Thick and warm pressed against your backside and you turn to look over your shoulder as you watch him spread your juices with the head of his cock and sink into you. His hands gripped your ass, spreading you open to be able to see how you took him with ease.

“Mhm, Jaemin,” you moan, arching into him.

“Uh uh, who am I” he says as he smacks you ass.

You could feel the shift in the air and you knew what you were in for.

“Nana” you whine.

“Thats right, Nana is going to take care of you.” he coos before pulling back to leave a particularly sharp thrust against your cervix.

You fall forward and a hand reaches out to grip your hair, pushing you down further into the mattress. Jaemin rearranges himself so he's kneeling on one knee, giving himself a better angle to drive you into the mattress.

“I love you, and I'm going to make sure you know it. Going to make sure you feel it,” he groans.

Hes so deep, its all you could feel. You reach behind you after a particularly rough trust and he just grabs your arm and pulls you back into him, using it as leverage.

“Oh fuck!” you moan and you were not going to last long. “Fuck me Nana, dont stop”

“You gonna be a good girl and ask to cum?” he reminds you.

“Please let me cum Nana!” you beg.

He slows down and you almost complain until the slow, deep thrust steals your breath away.

He builds you up and you're crying against the sheets.

“Im gonna cum, please let me cum” you beg pathetically as tears blur your vision.

“Thats my girl, cum” he says and you melt away. Your body shudders and you become a puddle of limbs as he helps you ride out your high.

You could hardly keep yourself up so he manhandles you onto your back and stokes over you before spilling all over your chest and stomach.

You peer down at the mess he’d made and when you look up at him, he gives you a satisfied grin. After catching his own breath, he wastes no time in cleaning up. A warm towel and clean sheets are brought to you after you two definitely left several wet stains in the covers. He cleans you up nicely and cuddles you.

This was all you needed.

You and Jaemin had finally stopped trying to avoid each other during practice, and it felt liberating. You reminded yourself to be responsible, and somehow that balance brought you an unexpected sense of happiness. Every day, you walked into practice wearing a bright smile that was so radiant it made everyone around you groan in unison.

“Ugh, can you tone it down with the sunshine?” someone teased, prompting a chorus of laughter from the rest of the team. But you didn’t mind. With your renewed focus, you were running practices like the Navy—organized and disciplined. No one could get away with slacking off or skipping out anymore, and you could sense that some teammates yearned for the old, more carefree version of you.

You let them slack off for a week and now they wanted to act brand new. You roll your eyes.

Competitions came and went in a flash, and you felt proud of your team—and of Jaemin, who had stuck through it all. You genuinely enjoyed his presence and the time you spent together.

During one of the final competitions, when the team took home the trophy, you found Jaemin amid the celebration. His eyes sparkled with joy, and when he pulled you into an excited hug.

“You did amazing out there!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine delight.

“So did you! I’m so glad we got to do this together!” you replied, beaming up at him. In that moment, surrounded by cheers and the thrill of victory, you realized how special this experience was.

With the chaos of the competitions behind you, you found a quiet spot away from the celebrations. The stars twinkled overhead, and the cool night breeze carried the scent of victory. Turning to Jaemin, a genuine smile lit up your face. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” you said softly. “I’m sorry if I was hard on you at first.”

He shrugged, unbothered. “You’re kind of hot when you’re an asshole,” he teased.

You nudged his shoulder playfully. “I am not an asshole!” you protested, but you couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up in your voice.

“Whatever you say sexy,” He jokes. "Come, it's time to celebrate. I brought some fireworks,” he says, wiggling his eye brows at you.

You laughed and nudged Jaemin, intrigued by his playful grin. He proposed grabbing some snacks, finding a quiet spot, and lighting fireworks under the stars. The only sounds were the gentle rustling of the trees and the chirping of insects.

"This is perfect," you thought, gazing up at the stars as Jaemin handed you a sparkler. Watching it fizzle out made you feel like a child again, and when you looked at him, you saw nothing but love in his eyes.

As the night wore on, the fireworks brightened the tranquil darkness, and leaning against Jaemin felt completely right. In that moment, you realized this was the ideal way to celebrate your victory

HAECHAN (nct dream)

pay the price [haechan] by @lqfiles

neighbour!haechan x fem!reader | genre ・ enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, probably slow burn, humour, neighbours au | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ after getting evicted out of your old place, you're left with no other choice but to look for a cheaper alternative. which is how you end up becoming neighbours with lee haechan, who has a passion for music and disturbing whatever peace and quiet there is.

one night only [haechan] by @mrkified

college-student!haechan x fem!reader | genre ・ secret relationship, slight enemies to lovers, college au, angst, fluff, crack/humor, band au | status ・ completed!

summary ・ three years since your falling out with lee donghyuck he has suddenly transfered to your college in hopes to make it big with his friends in his band. unfortunately for you, your unresolved friendship started causing problems between you and the people around you, especially since your best friend is his ex. so — why have you found yourself in his room with a raging hangover?

she's the man [haechan] by @yutarot

gamer!haechan x fem!reader | genre ・ humour, friends to lovers, college au, gamer!haechan, gamer!yn, everyone’s a gamer actually, loosely based off the movie ‘she’s the man’, fem reader, slowburn, angst, plot heavy | status ・ completed!

summary ・ after you discover your love for gaming, you soon find out that your college won’t let you in any of their e-sports teams due to your gender. but what happens when your twin brother leaves town just before he’s about to start at a new college, where not even NCU’s e-sports captain, lee haechan knows anything about him? there’s only one problem, your brother’s crazy ex is trying to hunt you down. will they all find out your true identity? and will their views on you change if they discover who you really are?

divine timing [haechan] by @v1si0n

college student!hyuck x fem!reader | genre ・ smau (some written parts), college student! hyuck x fem! reader, ????? to lovers, fluff, probably some angst but not heavy bc i’m sensitive, humor, lowkey she fell first but he fell harder trope, hyuck is a jealous little lad. | status ・ completed!

summary ・ you confessed to your longtime crush, donghyuck, back in high school because you figured you guys would never see each other again. you begin to question your faith in the universe when you run into him on a rainy tuesday night, and you start seeing him every day after.

blooming hearts [haechan] by @jji-lee

flower shop owner!haechan x fem!reader | genre ・ humor , strangers to enemies to lovers, college au, maybe a little angst, fluff, slow burn, haechan and reader are oblivious and stubborn | status ・ completed!

summary ・ a new flower shop has opened up in front of your dorm housing and has been creating problem after problem for you. now you and shop owner, lee haechan have an ongoing feud that neither of you are willing to put to rest. as the weather cools and the flowers wither away maybe something else will begin to bloom between you two…

MARK (nct dream)

down bad! [mark] by @hyuckswoman

college student!mark x fem!reader | genre ・ slowburn?, humour, collegeau, fluff, mutual pining, strangers to lovers | status ・ completed!

summary ・in which a random business major finds herself joining a random music class not knowing the guy she had been fawning over attended it aswell.

got my ion you [mark] by @chenlesfavorite

tutor!mark x fem!reader | genre ・ social media au (smau), half written, friends to lovers, fluff | status ・ completed!

summary ・ you’ve failed yet another chemistry exam, high chances are you’re gonna have to retake the entire class next year and miss out on almost all school breaks due to studying and fixing your bad grades, and that is until your trusty friend suggests a tutor to you.

dream boyfriend: incoming [mark] by @wonbin-truther

college student!mark x college student!fem!reader | genre ・ smau, fake dating to ?? to lovers, slight jaemin x yn, yns cousins are assholes, mark is the ideal son in law, hes also an asshole, kys/kms jokes, mark kinda leads yn on, will add more as i go along | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ it wasnt your fault mark was the first profile to appear on your instagram! and it was most definitely not your fault when you told your annoying older cousins that mark lee, the captain of your unis soccer team, was your boyfriend and somehow got him invited to the next family reunion...

when you smile [mark] by @svnnw

fake boyfriend!mark x fem!reader | genre ・ fluff, angst, slowburn, comedy, humor, fake dating, non-idol au, college au | status ・ completed!

summary ・ after barely passing your recent exam you're now desperately looking for someone to tutor you so your friends wouldn't worry about you and your grades.

cryptic crush [mark] by @jji-lee

fuckboy!mark x fem!reader | genre ・ humor, neighbors/enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, slight slow burn, fluff, mark and reader are always at it bro (fighting not fucking LMAO) | status ・ completed!

summary ・ are you looking for something deeper than just superficial romance? of course you are! sm university presents : cryptic crush the only on campus app that is 100% anonymous. sign up now and we'll randomly pair you with someone ready to chat! who knows? they might be the one...

NA JAEMIN (nct dream)

love on the court [jaemin] by @polarisjisung

basketball player!jaemin x basketball player!fem!reader | genre ・ (one sided) enemies to lovers, childhood best friends to lovers, college au, kinda forced proximity | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

CHENLE (nct dream)

night rider [chenle] by @chenlesfavorite

motorcyclist!chenle x fem!reader | genre ・ social media au (smau), written, slowburn, angsty-ish, fluff, strangers to enemies to lovers (except they're not really enemies.. they just can't stand each other) | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ working night shifts 24/7 at the convenience store while also supporting your boyfriend’s obsession with watching motorcyclists race is not easy, but little did you know that one of the bikers that he loves soon gets involved with you.

RENJUN (nct dream)

belladonna! [renjun] by @winwintea

actor!renjun x fem!reader | genre ・ social media au (smau), fluff, angst, drama, horror, very dark, detective au, murder mystery au, explicit(?) | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ you've been tasked with visting and inspecting the grand rose theatre, a theatre that's been plagued with mysteries over the years. all seems well, until a string of murders follows your visit. as you further investigate, you find yourself falling for huang renjun, the beautiful male lead, and your mystery murderer who leaves you love notes and clues about who they could potentially be. will you be smart enough to be a step ahead of the killer? or will you find yourself caught within their trap?

JENO (nct dream)

hot to go! [jeno] by @sungiejpg

idol!jeno x stylist!fem!reader | genre ・ idol au, fluff, humour, maybe slow burn | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ being aespa’s stylist is an easy and a lovely job, that’s what yn thought until she met Jeno by mistake. She now finds him scary.

JAEHYUN (nct 127)

roses [jaehyun] by @nneteyamss

college student!jaehyun x fem!reader | genre ・ smau, college au, second chance (?), humor | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ during your freshman year of college you had a situationship with jaehyun. despite both falling for each other, issues got in the way and jaehyun ghosted you. it's been 2 years since and he never got over you and he'd do almost anything to get you again... including writing a song to get your attention.

KARINA (aespa)

it's me before her [karina] by @uchinagai

idol!jimin x actress!fem!reader | genre ・ smau + written , wlw fluff , idol au, y/n is in huge denial, strangers(?) to lovers, idol!karina, actress!y/n, idol!y/n, tiny bit of suggestive | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ kim y/n, #1 soloist currently, known for other than just acting like out of this world and singing like an angel, is also known in the industry as 'flirt' among female idols. a certain world wide idol, got her attention on her, but little did she know, there was another one, more desperate and in love with her before the global it girl.