Noon 20+

he can't answer that, obviously, because how could he explain that he'd been following you to catch a glimpse of your ass in the short skirt you wear? his ears glow a bright pink when you approach, his gaze dropping to his feet to avoid your scrutinizing glare. you scoff, smacking your sticky lips together as you roll your eyes, "weirdo."

nerd!휴닝카이 who offers to do your homework for you. any means to get closer to you. and you let him with a shrug, dumping your textbooks into his lap before walking away, hips swaying dangerously with each step you take. kai brings the books to his nose, trying to catch your scent on them in vain.

nerd!휴닝카이 stalks you on social media, phone in one hand, cock in the other — he jerks himself off roughly, swallowing down the pathetic whines building in his throat. he swipes through picture after picture, innocent ones of you holding puppies, suggestive ones of you pushing your cleavage toward the camera — those always makes him cum right away.

nerd!휴닝카이 who follows you like a lost puppy, your finished homework in his arms as he tries to give it to you. but you're ignoring him? he's walked behind you like a shadow for ten minutes now, trying to grab your attention and failing each time. you're leading him down vacant hallways, finally slipping inside a small storage unit — and kai goes after you without question.

nerd!휴닝카이 doesn't understand why you're so upset. doesn't understand why you're shoving him up against the wall roughly and jabbing a finger in his face. "who the fuck do you think you are to approach me in front of everyone like that? you fucking loser." you seethe, and kai's cock jumps in his pants at the crude words.

nerd!휴닝카이 can't help but get so turned on by the way you talk to him, each insult sends heat straight to his groin and he has to reach a hand down to subtly try to adjust himself. but you notice, because of course you do. eyebrows shooting high on your forehead, the confusion lasts only a moment before your expression morphs into a sinister one.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"the hell? are you hard right now?"

that only makes him whine as he nods weakly, glancing toward the closed door like he was planning a quick escape route. but you won't let him off the hook that easily. the books are shoved to the floor as you take a step closer, breath so close that it mixes with his own.

nerd!휴닝카이 practically melts when you first kiss him, lips parting to allow your tongue inside his mouth without thinking twice. you're mean, biting on his lip harshly, pulling a pained gasp from his throat as he tries to pull back — only to be stopped by your fingers in his hair — tugging hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"pathetic bitch, you wanted this all along? is that why you wanted to help me? hoping I'd suck your tiny dick?"

kai wants to tell you no, wants to shake his head and deny the blunt accusation, but he can't. his cock throbs in his pants, hips jerking forward helplessly when your fingers hover above the zipper. you scoff, pulling away from his lips, now smeared with your sparkly gloss, "fine, have it your way."

nerd!휴닝카이 nearly sees stars when you take him in your mouth. the storage room is dark but he can still make out your face, peering up at him through the shadows where you kneel on the floor. your skirt has ridden up your thighs, exposing more of the skin he'd been so desperate to see all this time.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"you got a real tiny dick y'know?"

your lips are still stretched wide around him, tears glistening in your eyes when you force him deeper. "you barely reach the back of my throat." for a moment he can almost believe it, and the thought alone sends a shudder through him as he chokes on a moan, hips thrusting deeper into your mouth, causing you to gag around him.

"fuck, are you trying to kill me? you loser, can't even stay still for a blowjob." and kai nods helplessly, hands grabbing at your shoulders hard enough to bruise. his eyes are squeezed shut, jaw slack as he lets himself by shamelessly loud, not caring who might hear him.

nerd!휴닝카이 cums embarrassingly fast, cock twitching on your tongue before forcing his load down your throat with a whine. you don't swallow, and when you pull off you rise to your feet only to spit his release back into his face.

nerd!휴닝카이 moans at the feeling of his own arousal dripping down his chin, eyes bleary when they find yours. he doesn't move to wipe himself clean, doesn't even bother tucking his soft cock back into his pants as he stares at you with a lopsided grin. you only roll your eyes, already reapplying the gloss across your lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"tell anyone about this and you're dead, you hear that, perv?"

then you head out of the storage unit, slamming the door shut behind you and leaving kai a spent, blissed out mess. his gaze flickers down to the books you had forgotten to bring with you, and he scrambles to gather his bearings — then he's rushing after you a second time that day.

for @biteyoubiteme <3

The sweet taste and coldness makes it so refreshing. Your every movement is unintentional seduction—the way your lips wrap around the fruit, letting your tongue peak to lick into his fingers to chase the sweetness that lingers on his skin. 

Nicholas leans forward, transfixed by the sight of you. You close your eyes, your lips parting in pure bliss as the cold, sweet fruit slides down your throat. That small, almost unnoticeable movement— innocent yet enchanting, sends a wave of desire within Nicholas. Every droplet on your glistening skin, every subtle movement, ignites something raw inside him, an irresistible craving that gnaws at his core.

“Want some, Weno?” Your voice breaks through the charged silence, your hands reaching for the bowl in his hands and grabbing a piece before extending the strawberry toward him. he gulps, the question hanging in the air making his throat tighten.

“I'm okay, babe” Nicholas replies, the words strained and his voice rough with barely contained desire, his body tenses. He grabs another piece and brings it to you, watching you eat it, its juices staining your lips.

Instinctively, his thumb grazes your nectar coated lips — your mouth instantly opens, enveloping his digit. His sharp eyes darken, following your every movement from the way your plump lips glisten, the gentle suction as you wrap your tongue around his thumb while looking at him with wide, glassy eyes followed by the soft “pop” as you pull away.

He's had enough.

"Baby,” he murmurs, voice turning deep and resonant, his saliva coated thumb gripping your chin and bringing you closer to him, “let me have a taste.” His lips crash into yours, tongue sliding between them without hesitation tasting the sweet remnants of the strawberries that coated your tongue and mouth, kissing you like he’s been starved for years.

"Open, baby," you obey, lips parting as he leans to spit into your mouth, a shiver runs through your back as you swallow, feeling his other hand trail up and his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, dragging over bare skin. You gasp when you feel the hard press of him through his pants,"so sweet, baby," he mutters against your lips, voice raw with need.

You flutter your lashes at him, voice trembling and breathless, "Weno, I'm craving more." his grip on your chin tightens, his hand leaves your chin, manhandling you 'til your knees hit the floor, seated between his now spread legs.

His fingers tighten around your hair, a gentle yet unyielding command, "I have exactly what you're craving baby." Your hands reach out to rest against his strong, defined thighs, while he leans back against the couch. You take in his every detail; his firm muscles, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyes darken with an intense need that could be mistaken as desperation and it fuels your own desire more.

Nicholas' hand remains steady at the back of your head, each motion urging you deeper between his thighs, the rough carpet rubbing against your knees. “Look at you,” he murmurs, raw desire etched into his being, "so eager and willing, you want it that bad, baby?” teasing you with his tone, a smirk tugging on his lips.

He leans closer, his warm breath entangled with yours as his thumb traces softly along your cheek, "I asked you a question, answer." His eyes glimmer with feral desire as he waits your response, You nod your head, words escaping you in a silent admission.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice rough with need as his grip tightens, anchoring you in place. “Good fucking girl, baby.”

Nicholas reaches down with tantalizing slowness and unfastens his belt. The clink of metal echoes in the air as the leather slides free, releasing him from the confines of his pants.

There, before you, is his thick, pulsing length—veins standing out, the swollen head glistening with precum, it makes your pulse quicken and you can hardly look away, your eyes locked on every detail.

Nicholas' hand moves down to cup your cheeks as he guides you closer, feeling the warmth of his touch and the heat of room that turns everything to blur into a haze of lust and desire, “well, go ahead baby,” he commands.

You start with your hands first, fingers wrap around the base of him. Slowly, you stroke him, your hand following the natural curve of his thick, pulsing length and every movement feels electrifying, sending cool shivers all over your body. You become hyper aware of him— his breath quickening, grip on your hair tightening, hips shifting silently encouraging you to keep going.

You slide your hand up and down his length, feeling the way it throbs in your grasp and Nicholas watches, gaze lidded, jaw clenched, "just like that, baby~" he murmurs, his voice thick with barely controlled lust. “Open—” He presses his thumb against your chin, coaxing your mouth open, his eyes boring into yours, “good girl.”

You leaned forward, the tip of your tongue flicking over the sensitive, swollen head and the sensation of his arousal in your mouth is overwhelming, every touch sending ripples of pleasure through him. Nicholas' breath hitches, his grip on your hair tightening “f-fuck, baby, need more …” he urges.

You part your lips further, taking him deeper as you feel the weight of him press against your tongue. His muscles tense under your touch, the fingers that gripped your hair now caressing your head with urgency, guiding you to take him even deeper, driving you both crazy, "that's it, baby … shit, s-so good!"

Your tongue traces along the underside, caressing every ridge and curve. The sensation makes Nicholas throw his head back in pure pleasure, his taste coating your mouth—a mix of his warmth, salt, and arousal that's dizzying to you and him. His breathing becomes uneven, fingers tighten around your head, and you find a rhythm that feels the most pleasurable.

Every soft lick and stroke builds the tension between you until it becomes difficult to hold back. Everything feels overwhelming; the taste, the touch, the smell, the sound of his soft pants mixed with your own moans, "fuck, you're doing so good 'f me baby."

You were encouraged by his soft whines, a growing need to please him so, you sink deeper, and he slides further, until your mouth envelops him entirely. A low groan escapes him as he feels your warmth envelope him completely, “mmhm …. So good, ah! — You’re doing so well for me.”

You pull back briefly, gulps of oxygen filling your lungs as you savor his taste and then you plunge forward again until you feel him hit the back of your throat. He tenses visibly, and his breath catches, no longer holding back as his restraint shatters, "D-don’t … fuck! don’t stop baby.” Nicholas throws his head back, and you can barely look at him through blurred, teary vision, “I’m close, s-shit!” he warns, voice hoarse and raw.

You take him deeper, swallowing around him relentlessly. He finally snaps, groaning as his grip tightens, his hips jerking as he cums into your mouth. The action makes tears well in your eyes, your mouth full as his release shoots down your throat. His chest rises and falls from the intensity of his climax, you swallow with a loud gulp.

The room quiets down to only the sound of your breathing, the aftershocks of your shared pleasure lingering in the air. Nicholas fingers untangled from your hair, slowly ease their grip as he moves to tug his boxers up before pulling you on his lap again, his chest heaving and his eyes half-lidded in satisfaction. He lifts your chin gently, his thumb traces soothing circles along your swollen lips.

“That felt amazing,” he whispers, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, tasting himself on your tongue and pulling away once he's satisfied. "Weno, baby, I'm craving more…" he chuckles, hands cupping your cheeks and squishing them together, "insatiable thing, aren't you baby?"

“Good Morning, Changbin. These two gentlemen are here about your maladie. Would you please be so kind as to explain to them exactly what’s been happening to you?”

Seonghwa and Yeosang had been sent to the hospital due to an odd situation that had been occurring there. Dressed in their street clothes, they came to the hospital to investigate the happenstance that sounded like it was exactly in their league of expertise.

Changbin began his story glumly. “So I’ve been in here because I broke my arm, right? Suddenly, a few nights back during the night shift, I got really hard, out of absolutely nowhere. Then this gorgeous nurse comes into my room. She says that it seems there was an unforeseen side effect to my painkillers and she’s come to relieve me of undue stress. Then she gives me the best blowjob I’ve ever had in my life. Except I don’t get soft after. She makes a note on her clipboard and then leaves.”

Seonghwa tapped his hand to his lip in thought. “Sounds like a succubus, alright.”

The doctor nodded. “I thought so. Changbin isn’t on any pain killers that would have any kind of side effects like he described. Nor would we send in a nurse to… well…” The doctor seemed to have lost his tongue.

“I have an idea,” Yeosang said with his whole chest.

After explaining, both the doctor and Seonghwa voiced their worries. But the hero of our story, Kang Yeosang, was determined and sure he could win the day.

***

You stalked down the hospital hallway, sending out feelers for the horny. Well, not anyone truly had a choice. Any man within thirty meters of you would become undeniably horny. It was the lonely you were looking for. They tended to be the tastiest morsels.

But then your senses glared and you sucked in your breath. What the fuck--who the fuck--was that?!

You smoothed your hands down your stomach, practically trembling with anticipation, and then you pushed open the door into the room where your tasty treat was waiting. 

You were met with a loud moan upon pushing open the door. You quietly closed it and locked it, moving deeper into the room. You paused at the foot of the bed, pulling the clipboard resting there.

“Kang Yeosang, hmmm?” You purred. “It says here you're in for two broken arms, you poor thing.”

Your eyes rose from the clipboard and swept over the beautiful man on the bed. He indeed sported two arms in casts, utterly useless to the pulsing hard on that he was sporting beneath the thin hospital blankets.

“Please,” Yeosang groaned. “I feel so hot.”

You pull the pen from your nurse's outfit and pretend to write something on the clipboard when really all you do is add a heart to the paper. 

“I see you're having an adverse affect to the painkillers we've administered to you,” You evaluated.

“Help me, nurse, please,” Yeosang groaned again, thrashing his legs.

You tapped your pen to your lips. Something was wrong here. This was too good to be true. It was a trap, to be sure. But your pussy was practically pulsing with need, with Yeosang at a disadvantage to stop anything you did to him.

You use the tip of the pen, unclicked of course, do prod at Yeosang hard on. “We'll have to do something about this, sir. We simply cannot have you stressed while you attempt to heal.”

You watched as Yeosang licked his lips. His eyebrows furrowed inwards. “It hurts,” he whined.

You shrugged. To hell with it. This was too good to not take advantage of. You put down the pen and clipboard and climbed on top of the hospital bed. 

You straddled Yeosang, bouncing your ass on top of his cock and he groaned even louder. “Hmm, it seems to be painful. I'll have to take a closer look.”

You go on all fours, pulling down the bedsheets and pulling up Yeosang’s hospital gown. Yeosang hissed as the cool air hit his throbbing cock.

You chucked your tongue. “Now this is just a travesty.” 

His cock continued to jump, several veins prominent along the shaft. His mushroom head was an angry red, with accompanying precum that looked good enough to drink.

You blew on his cock and he yelped in response. He began to twist in the bed. “Please, I'm--please,” he whimpered.

“I'm taking mental notes, sir,” You said with a disapproving tone. “You can't rush the medical profession.

“I really--” Yeosang swallowed loudly, his eyes rolling with desire. “I just really need to be inside something,” he whispered.

“Poor, poor Yeosang,” You said in a mockingly sweet voice. “You couldn't even relieve yourself if you wanted to, hmm? What would you have resorted to? Humping the bed?”

Yeosang began to panting with need. “Puh-puhlease. I need your help.”

“Alright,” you grumbled goodnaturedly. “I'll put you out of your misery, sir.”

You raised your skirt and gripped the base of Yeosang’s cock to hold it vertical and ready for you to spear yourself with it. Even the simple touch of your hand on his cock had Yeosang crying out. He fucked up into your hand, ass clenching as his hips moved upwards.

You tsked at your patient/target. “Sir, I must get you inside of me, do not act up.”

“Feels so good, feels so good,” Yeosang panted, completely ignoring your orders.

“You wait,” You chuckled darkly. “Nothing is like the deep recesses of my cunt.”

With one fluid movement, you took all of Yeosang inside of you, tossing your head back and moaning, relishing the feel of this man that was dripping with sexual energy inside of you. You immediately began to wave your body, adjusting to a tortuous pace that grinded your clit so nicely against Yeosang’s pelvis.

Yeosang was silent, his eyes distant and glassy. He was simply inside of you with minimal friction and he was already dumb for you. Perfection.

“There's a good little patient,” You continued with your sugary sweet tone. “You're doing so good for me. You stay still and I'm going to make you feel so much better.”

Yeosang’s lip pushed out and he shuddered thoroughly as your pussy clenched down on him. “Help me.”

That's when you began to bounce on him, his strong pelvic muscles flexing so that you could do so. You began to pinch and roll your nipples through the nurses outfit, and your tail began to sway lazily, having escaped the confines of your dress upon lifting it.

Slowly, but surely, you began to feed from Yeosang, draining his magical energy. You leaned down to eat at his lips, enjoying the extra flavor of his deep moans. You were in heaven. It was like you were having an appetizer, the main course and dessert, all at the same time. 

“Come on, Yeosang, just a little bit more,” You encouraged, bouncing eagerly on that fat cock of his. “Give me your everything, fill me to the brim, and then I promise you won't hurt anymore.”

“No, you won't hurt anyone anymore,” a different voice said with determination. “Shooting Star Confusion!”

Suddenly, your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Who were you? What were you doing? What was that delicious feeling curling in your stomach?

“Seog--seonghwa, I can't stop fucking her. Her power is still strong even with your confusion powers!” The man under your stuttered.

Seonghwa muttered under his breath, wrapping two arms around your waist and pulled you off the bed. “How the hell are we going to bring her back to HQ then? She already owns your dick.”

You giggled, empty headed but for the thought of Seonghwa’s length pressing up against your backside as well. “I own yours too.”

Seonghwa cursed. “This is a mess. I don’t know why I agreed to this, Yeosang. Hongjoong is going to kill us both.”

Yeosang, with his hair plastered to his face, sweat making his hospital gown cling to his body, groaned and laughed at the same time. “But it was so worth it. We got the succubus and I almost had the best fuck of my life.”

“Great, so glad you could almost lose your powers and get me in trouble in the process,” Seonghwa continued to complain. One of his arms lost its grasp on you, in order to tap his comm to speak with someone. “Hey. Target acquired. No civilians harmed. We might need help with evac--” 

Seonghwa groaned as you turned in his grasp and rubbed a hand eagerly through his leather pants. His hair was a pretty pink tone. You licked your lips. 

“Scratch that,” Seonghwa said in a strained voice. “Looks like we might have to drain her powers before we bring her back. I’ll touch base when we’re ready.”

“That sounds fun,” You cooed in a singsong voice. 

Seonghwa’s pretty violet eyes narrowed down at you. “Yeosang, just change into your magical form and help me out already.”

You smiled like the cat got your cream. You might not truly know what’s going on here but you think you’re about to get your brains fucked out. And that always sounds fun in your books.

Yeosang chuckled in distraught. “She might have drained me a little too much for me to do that.”

Seonghwa cursed under his breath again. “I’m never letting you plan a mission ever again, Kang Yeosang.”

Seonghwa wrapped his hands around your waist and hoisted you on the table that sat at the end of the patient’s bed to be used to eat from and pushed your legs apart. “Jesus, Yeo,” Seonghwa muttered under his breath. “You didn't even come inside of her but you're dripping out of her!”

“The plan was for her to at least believe she was draining me before you captured her,” Yeosang protested. 

“Careful of my pussy,” You giggled, running your talons through Seonghwa’s bubble-gum pink hair. “It’s dangerously addictive.”

You wiggled your body forward so that your cunt would get closer to the lip of the table. Seonghwa blew on your throbbing pussy and you squealed in delight. Seonghwa swallowed loudly and licked his lips. “Here goes nothing.”

The pink haired man pushed his face against your pussy. You saw him purse his lips before he began to stick his tongue into your clenching hole. You moaned wantonly, pushing your hips forward. His tongue felt delicious inside of you. It twisted and swirled, and you couldn't help but push your hand through his cotton-candy hair, keeping it out of his face as it became covered in your own liquids.

Seonghwa pulled back, his eyes blown in lust. “Yeosang, you taste just like strawberry-kiwi.”

Yeosang chuckled in embarrassment. “Now who’s getting sucked into the moment?”

Seonghwa shook his head, untangling your fingers from his hair. “Distract her, please, I need help.”

You heard a brief sound, like something splintering, and suddenly, large hands encompassed your breasts.

“Were you…?” You wrinkled your nose in distraught. Was there something you were supposed to remember about Yeosang? You mentally shrugged and let your head hit the large man's shoulder behind you as Seonghwa continued to suck Yeosang’s cum out of your swollen cunt.

“God, I’ve been wanting to manhandle these tits since I saw you come in with this nurse’s outfit. You really are the perfect trap, aren’t you, little succubus?” Yeosang’s deep voice made you shiver.

Seonghwa made good work of your cunt, his nubile tongue moving in and out of your hole, scooping up all the remnants of Yeosang’s cunt. You were sure you had to stop him but you weren’t exactly sure why. And seeing as how this felt way too good, especially with the way Yeosang was playing with your tits, you decided internally to keep going to see where this leads.  

“Come one, little succubus, come for us,” Yeosang encouraged you. You could feel his hard cock pressing up against your back as his hips dug forward. 

“I--” You choked on your own moan as Seonghwa’s eyes swept upwards to look at you. The grey orbs made you wonder if he tasted like strawberries and cream like his hair or yummy vanilla earl grey tea because of his iris’s.

“Oh fuck, if we bring her back, she’s going to need a surpression collar immediately or I’m going to be in her cell fucking her every minute of every day,” Yeosang admitted.

Your brain fog got cloudier as your climax approached. “I’m gonna--I’m gonna--!” You moaned loudly as your climax hit you. You humped Seonghwa’s face, milking his tongue for all it was worth. You felt so good, you were floating on cloud nine.

Seonghwa leaned back, bracing his hands on his knees. “I’m so fucking hard--Jesus.” He ran a hand through his long hair. “Mingi--this is Seonghwa to HQ. We have drained the succubus. We are going to need some help bringing her back, though.”

A transparent screen appeared before Seonghwa. A man with fiery hair and glasses popped up. “If you drained her, you wouldn’t be hard anymore. Didn’t I tell you, she’s got a pheromone curse.”

Yeosang belly laughed. “That’s just his normal hard on, Mingi. You know how he gets when he eats out.” Yeosang continued to chuckle to himself.

Mingi rolled his eyes. “I’ll send Wooyoung, he needs some more experience.”

You watched as your tale became a faint pink colour instead of black, your nails receded and you felt your horns get smaller as well. The confusion that had been holding you back faded as well.

“You fucking magical boys drained me? Me? I had such a good operation here at the hospital. I wasn’t harming anyone, just taking some drinks here and there. What’s wrong with giving someone in pain a little head now and then?” You demanded with a weak snarl.

Yeosang pinched your nipples between his fingers, rolling them and making you cry out at the pain and pleasure. “Well, you were so good, we just had to take you home for ourselves,” Yeosang informed you.

You began to grumble under your breath. “You know, they say you are the saviours of the city, but you magical boys are just as bad as us succubuses. You enjoy sex just as much as us.”

Seonghwa smirked slowly, a crooked affair that had your pussy fluttering at the thought of it between your legs. “True. But we do it for good reasons. Doesn’t the means justify the ends?”

“I think you got it backwards, Seonghwa,” Yeosang sighed heavily behind you. 

Seonghwa blushed. He was glowing with Yeosang’s power and your own. His shirt with cutouts and tight leather barely held back the sheen of his bronze skin. “Shut up, Yeosang. I’m not the one that almost lost my power because I couldn't handle a slutty nurse.”

“Almost--” Yeosang choked on his ego. “You got lost in that cunt, don’t even pretend to be mightier than thou!”

“Gentlemen, there’s enough of me for the both of you. And this Wooyoung you speak of. We could all have a fun time,” You purred. You looked around the small hospital room. “Although we might need a change of scenery."

Seonghwa rubbed his face tiredly. “Wooyoung better get here quickly. I need a time-out.”

“Does that involving jerking off to the idea of our fair nurse and your face buried in her cunt or--”

Yeosang made a pained ‘oof’ noise as Seonghwa moved to punch Yeosang in the arm. Yeosang burst into laughter. “Alright, alright. I gotta get out of this hospital gown.”

You watched with an appreciative eye as Yeosang pulled himself out of the hospital bed and removed his hospital gown. From his broad shoulders, big arms, thick waist and cute little butt, you should have known from the get go that he was a trap. And you did but who could say no to that little treat waiting for you in bed? Your downfall had been your greed but you found yourself not being able to regret it.

honorary series tag: @potatomountain

You cackled as you flew through the air, part glide and part jump. Rooftops zoomed in and out as you touched on them momentarily only to glide through the air once again.

“San, no!” One of the magical boys you were fleeing from shouted. 

“She’s not getting away this time!” San bellowed. “I’m going to catch her.”

A thrilling shiver went through your body, from the top of your head with your twisted horns, extending along the wings at the small of your back and the spade tail as well. Your claws retracted and extended at the thought of the juicy morsel that was pursuing you. You did so love a game of chase. 

San, the magical boy leaping after you, had a mixture of dark blue and purple hair, cut short but only to enhance his sharp features. He had the biggest set of shoulders you had seen on a human man but barely any clothes covered his huge form. He had a halter top that left most of his pecs on display and gloves up his arms. His pants were torn in perfect places, enough to show the flexing of his legs at work. He was exactly the right magical boy for the job.

Earlier, you had targeted a group of guys out late from the bars. They may not be magical boys and full of delicious energy, but a Succubus couldn't be picky when she was starving. The magical boy’s energy meter must have gone off and thus Mingi and San were dispatched. 

The quick steps behind you let you know that San was quickly catching up. You weren’t exactly looking to get away--you just needed room between San and Mingi, so you could get a taste of San. Or more. 

You managed one final arc over to the next rooftop but midway, San slammed into you, causing you both to descend to the next rooftop you were aiming to. You both tumbled head over heel, and wound up with San on his hands and knees over you, his head hovering over your lower half. Not your preferred position, but you’d take it.

“I don’t even know why you ran,” San scolded you. “You guys always lose against us.”

“I dunno…” You purred, running your claws along San’s abdomen. “I think I won.”

All you needed was one pad of your fingers to touch San’s skin and you cursed him. 

“Wha…what did you do?!” San jumped off of you and backed up on his butt to get away.

“Just a little gift.” You couldn't help but smirk while sitting up yourself.

The curse gloriously bloomed on San’s bronze skin; the dark, magical ink spread quickly. It began to affect San almost immediately after it finished forming. His thick cock pressed up against his pants and he began to pant in need.

“Why.. why do I feel so hot?” San whined. 

“Come to me, big boy, I'll make you feel better,” You said as you started crawling towards him.

San’s hips buck up into the air but he's not going to get the friction he wants. “No… I can't succumb… to your dark magic.”

You chuckled. “Oh, but you will.”

San’s hands become fists, clutching his pants tightly, resisting the urge to cup himself through the material. “I’m much stronger than that,” he insisted.

You cocked your head, finally reaching him. “Are you?” 

You run a finger down the middle of his torso. San bit down on his lower lip, watching you with hooded eyes as that finger runs down his shaft as well. You run it back up and then cruelly push at the slit of his cock. A wet spot appeared. 

“Seems you like a little pain with your pleasure, cutie,” You teased.

“Mingi’s going to kill me,” San mumbled to himself. 

You could practically feed from the aura San was giving. His arousal grew even as he spoke of one of his fellow magical boys. 

“There’s a way to save yourself,” You dangled a tidbit in front of the moaning magical boy.

“You would show mercy?” San’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

You shook your head and laughed in delight. He was so expressive. He was going to be so much fun to play with. “No, cutie, I’m going to feed like a glutton tonight.”

You explained to San in detail that you could tell that he was attracted to Mingi. If San could lure Mingi in to fuck him, then you fucked San while the two were engaged, you could feed on both their magical powers but not drain them completely. You licked your lips in anticipation of how delicious they would be. 

San shook his head back and forth in denial. “No!”

You raised an eyebrow in question at him. “Haven’t you shared moments of intimacy with your other members?”

San’s adorable purple dusting of a blush covered more of his face and spread down his neck. “Once I had to suck Jongho’s energy to win a fight but it was one time!”

“I’ll prep you, it’ll be great, don’t you worry!” You encouraged eagerly.

“Prep me?” San choked out his confusion. 

It’s nothing to yank down San’s pants and contort his body so that he was still on his back, but his chin was adorably pressed against his ample chest, ass high in the air and his legs almost folding back to his head. This magical boy was quite flexible. 

You wrapped a hand around his length and pumped experimentally. San’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. “Oh fuck.”

Continuing with the hand job, you press your chest to San’s lower body to keep it up and lick tentatively at San’s puckered hole. It clenched in response and you pushed your tongue in.

“No! Wait! That's--” San whined. “That feels so good.”

You scraped your fangs along San’s ass and he whimpered at the stimulation. You continued to yank at his pulsing election, twitching nicely against his stomach. You went back to licking and tonguing San’s asshole, enjoying how he squirmed in your hold. He was part denial, part glorious enjoyment and you were eating all of it up.

“Don't you want to be ready for Mingi?” You remind him. 

“Nnnnnnn,” San wordlessly responded. 

If he was dumb now, you can only imagine how he'll react to this next situation.

You let go of his cock in order to spread his cheeks and spit on his hole. You then, after retracting your claw, ran your forefinger around his puckered hole and then pushed in. You worked your finger into him, lubed up with the spit. San butt cheeks began to clench in an attempt to move back on your finger. Now that was some progress.

“Wanna be stuffed, do you, cutie?” You wondered as you continued to work San open with your finger.

“Feels… so… good…” San panted. His tongue was hanging out, pink and the perfect shape to lick you--but you could not afford to be distracted from your goal. 

You worked a second finger in, continuing to spit on San’s hole. You scissored your fingers, making him gape open. He was almost ready for his magical friend.

“Now, San,” You cooed. In order to get a good, positive reaction from San, you wrapped your hand around his cock and continued to lick his asshole. “All you need to do is convince Mingi that in order for your curse to go away, Mingi just needs to fuck you. As soon as you come, it’ll go away. Then I’ll spear myself on you. You’ll have the best of both worlds. Don’t you want that? To be stuffed full and to be fully stuffed inside of me?"

“Puh-please,” San whimpered. 

That was when you stopped stimulating San and stepped back. “I’ll just be hiding back here then; watching you. Be good and do as you're told, cutie.”

San’s lower half slowly unfolded as your body was no longer bracing him. He looked like a half-finished snack, cock firm against his stomach where the curse tattoo was, the most fucked-out look painted on his face, and his large chest heaving like he was out of breath.

“San!”

You step further back into the shadows as the aforementioned Magical Boy finally makes an appearance. 

Mingi pushed his spectacles up his nose, surveying the scene. His button up shirt was sans buttons, tucked into his pants, with a v straight down his chest, framing his pecs wonderfully. He looked like he’d burst out of either his shirt or pants at any moment. His vibrant yellow and red hair should remind you of fire but instead you can smell mango and raspberries in the air. 

“Mingi…” San groaned.

You have to stifle a giggle as you watch his cock twitch drastically against his toned stomach.

“I told you to not rush off--oh god.” Mingi’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’ve got a curse.”

You studied the other magical boy. Words and numbers flash across the glasses of his spectacles and Mingi let out a noise of understanding. “My computer says it’s a libido curse.”

“I fought the succubus off. She fled but not before giving me this. Can you help me?” San wondered. His hands couldn't help but wander over her body to feed the curse.

Mingi licked his lips nervously. “San…”

“It’ll go away if you fuck me, right? Come on man, you gotta help me. I’m…so hot,” San whined.

Mingi cursed under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I… okay, I’ll do it but only so that we can get back to HQ. It’s just to get rid of the curse, okay? In case your succubus comes back. I don’t want you to be drained of your magic.”

San grunted as he turned himself over and presented his ass to Mingi. Mingi sucked in a breath at the view. Mingi’s hand tentatively but reverently smooths over one globe of San’s ass. “Why are you so… wet? Already?”

San let out an impatient whine again. “I’m hard as a rock and my ass is ready to get stuffed, doesn’t that sound like a Libido Curse to you?”

“But…” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, unsure. “My computer says--”

“Fuck what your computer says!” San said harshly. “I’m dying down here. Hurry up and fuck me so we can get it over with.”

You smirked, seeing as how San’s really playing into the ‘we’re just doing this because we have to’ ideal. Even though you can smell both of the Magical Boy’s arousal from where you are in hiding.

“Okay, okay, I got you, San,” Mingi murmured. 

The taller magical boy pulled himself out from his pants and you had to press your lips together to suppress the moan that was begging to leave your mouth. He’s got a cock that’s perfect for fucking--not that you’ll be doing any of that this evening, but even just the knowledge was good to have. 

Mingi let out a precious whine as he pushed into San’s hole. 

“Oh shit,” San moaned. 

“Why the fuck do you have to be so tight?” Mingi whined back. 

The two of them were a moaning mess. San rocked back into Mingi’s length and Mingi’s hips worked methodically. San slowly descended in madness, mumbling about how deep Mingi was going until he couldn't even form Mingi’s name. He was just mind-numbingly crying out for release. Mingi, if you could believe it, was worse off than San. His hips were stuttering before he could warn San and he stilled his hips, coming deep into San’s hole. 

“Did you..,? Oh god, don’t move San! Did you… come?” Mingi panted.

“No!” San whined. “I was so close!”

With Mingi weak, having sent his energy to San, now was your chance. Even with San glowing, his hair bright and jewel-toned, he was still cursed. His cock pulsed with need and he was ripe for the picking. 

“Good job, San,” You purred as you stroll out of the shadows.

“Wha…?” Mingi’s eyes were big and confused. 

You conveniently slide below San as he braces himself on his forearms to hold himself up. All you have to do is line his cockhead to your entrance and he slid in easily. You were so wet from watching the show, it wasn’t an issue.

You watch on as San couldn't help but fuck himself inside of you. “Oh please, oh please,” he couldn't stop chanting.

“S-san, you said she was gone!” Mingi accused.

“I need this curse gone,” San grumbled and then moaned as Mingi started to move inside of him.

With each withdrawal, San speared himself back on Mingi, who was still hard, despite being almost drained of his magic. San would pull back until only his cockhead was still inside of you, and then slam back into you.

“That's it, you're doing great, Sannie,” You encouraged the magical boy inside of you.

“So good. So fucking good, oh my god,” San whined.

Soon there was only the noise of both magical boys whimpering and the slapping of skin in double time. You could see San’s aura swell with his arousal and you braced to feed.

“Gonna come,” San licked his lips desperately. “Gonna come so fucking hard oh god.”

You wrapped your arms around San’s strong neck, pulling his lips to yours. As San came inside of you, his muffled pleasure music to your ears, you played lazily with his tongue, feeding and taking two magical boy's powers. 

San groaned loudly, drawing out every little bit of his climax, fucking into your cunt. You were satiated beyond your wildest desires; your plan had worked.

With your newfound power, you pushed San back, who collapsed backwards. Mingi fell too, finally being released from San’s sweet hole. 

You took a moment, hands on your hips to survey your two opponents. Both were moaning and their cocks twitched adorably. Mingi was clothed in baggy clothes and some sunglasses but his hair was still the fiery magical boy color. San lost all his magical boy coloring, attaining sneakers and a cap and grey sweats. He did keep his halter top, though. Proof that you had kept your word and had not drained them completely of their powers.

“It was nice playing with you too, but I should go.” 

There was an extremely strong aura on its way. You could take him but that would require using some of your new power. And you weren't keen on losing the feeling of being so well fed right now.

You blew a kiss to the two magical boys and then glided away giddily.

“What did you two fuckwads do this time?!”

Jongho folded his arms over his chest, which only provoked his pecs to form a further cleavage line within the cut out heart on his tight t-shirt.

“San trapped me into…” Mingi couldn't find his words.

San looked down at his stomach and sighed in relief when the curse tattoo was gone. “It worked. Thank the goddess.”

“Do I have to carry the both of you back to HQ or can you manage that much at least?” Jongho huffed.

San held a hand up and groaned when he hauled up his well-fucked and fatigued body. Jongho rolled his eyes.

“You owe me, San,” Mingi grumbled.

“Yeah, when you get caught in a curse, I got you, buddy,” San said saucily.

Jongho pushed his hands to his ears. “Please spare me the details. I don't want to know. Make sure I'm out of earshot when you explain it to Hongjoong too.”

Mingi punched San in the shoulder, who in return, glared back at Mingi. It was going to be a long walk home.

the tiles are cool against your back, causing you to arch and hiss into his plumped lips from sudden change of temperature but you don’t part. beomgyu doesn’t curl his fingers around your neck, just slightly pets over the taut muscles as he sucks onto your bottom lip.

beomgyu’s pretty lips tug, and pull, watching your lip snap back like taffy before he leans back in to hide your echoing whines.

fuck.

his bites are cruel, with intentions of showing nothing but his aching hunger on your skin. never fully puncturing skin but digging in enough to make your nerves crawl. he leaves you raw, letting the water wash away your mixing spit from your chins as he allows his hand to trail along, down from your sternum to the center of you bodies. droplets drip from the ends of his strands and fall right on your cheeks, your makeshift tears as the water showers away your own real salty tears of pleasure.

devour. take. give.

his fingers slip in easily from where they glide, your body leaking it’s own water onto his. he rushes not because he wants to, but because everything within him is screaming to take your pleasure. because he can’t handle not showing you how much he needs you.

and when his fingers curl just right and you couldn’t keep up with his kisses anymore, puffing straight whines onto his slippery lips, and when his entire arm shakes from how hard he’s fucking you with his fingers, only then does he crumble.

only then does beomgyu slap a hand on the wall behind your body and finally rest his forehead on the tile right next to your ear, to focus on the way you’re already clenching around his middle and ring fingers. they’re perfect, thick and long, just enough to suck on after, just enough to curl right into your sweet spot now, with a rhythm that matches the perfection of his skilled hips. he knows your body well enough to know how to move his.

he’s just as shameless as you, mouthing along your trembling shoulder, letting you feel his pointed fangs graze lightly and his plumped lips plush out against your skin as he puffs out hot moans against your tensing, rising shoulder. he can’t help it upon hearing how freely you let out your own sounds, head tipped back onto the tiles and chin digging over his shoulder, arms now fully circling around his neck to keep him close for support. you want to be meld into his entire being, but his fingers pumping rapidly in you is as far as you can get for true connection.

beomgyu wants the same, still gently grazing his teeth against your skin from that ancient, rawly instinctual feeling violently shaking his being everytime he’s this close around your stretched neck, this close to your exposed beating heart. it pounds in his head, makes his canines ache, and he can practically taste your sweet blood on his slicked tongue. there’s a squelching but he doesn’t care whether to differentiate it between your sweetness jostling with the mix with his own cum or the water splatting against the shower floor.

“fuck, gyu, wait—”

said man whines just as helpless as you. no, he cannot wait, why wait? he wants it bad. craves this bad, desire you bad.

he’s shaking his head besides yours, holding you up with just his body pressed flushed against yours when he feels your thighs start trembling against his. they’re pillows around his wrist when they snap close around him, but he keeps plunging deeper, twisting his wrist and slightly shifting his angle to hit dead on the spot.

like water, he feels your slick trickle down the back of his hand and his wrist, making the pump slippery and lot easier. your stomach heaves, trembling against his lean abdomen and his hand clenches into a fist against the wall as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, hearing your saccharine cry echo into his ear and out of the clouded shower.

he doesn’t stop, he never does.

beomgyu keeps going as all the strength leaves your body with the waves of your release he milks out of you, fixing you even better even through overstimulation.

you don’t breathe, you cannot breathe as he steps even closer, pushing your thighs further apart with his own while he fucks you back up into that building high.

“daddy- i’m… sensiti—”

“one more, mommy. gimme one more.” he huffs when he picks his head up again to invade your blurry vision and take your lips again, eating the sharp cries you involuntarily yelp when he suddenly pops his fingers out to rub tight, quick circles against your clit. he doesn’t care about the water glistening his entire hand, sticky and stringing between his fingers like tiny webs when he plays with your swollen bud of sensitive nerves. he doesn’t care about how the overhead spray of water trickles past his shoulders and down both your bodies, washing away all the slimy arousal between you both.

you fear you’d actually slip and fall from how weak you were.

he fucking flinches when he feels you suddenly wrap a hot palm around his throbbing cock though, immediately pulling away to look down between your blushing figures, to look at how your hand struggles to wrap entirely around his thickness.

and before you could tug one more weak stroke around him with just water as your friction, he sucks into your mouth again, taking all the excess saliva you had left on your tongue and slipping down your chin with purpose. that purpose being to spit it onto his own cock twitching in your hand, feel it plop thick and heavy on his cum-pearled head and watch as your hand glides over it right after, smearing it with your strokes as if the water wasn’t going to wash it away anyways.

his groan shutters from his chest. it was hard for you to focus when he continues to roll your clit between his fingers, now getting fueled even harder by your pumping hand around his cock. he’s pretty underneath the water, pisces man.

“fuck,” he breathes the curse word as he leans back into the wall and glides his hand back down swiftly to sink back into your heated mess. you’re still clenching with aftershocks and the sudden intrusion again, fingers aimlessly pumping before popping back out again. he whines when you flick your wrist and thumb at his drooling slit, whining harder when he brings his hand between your bodies and up to his mouth, and sucks onto his soiled fingers with audible squelches. a mess.

“mmphhh, baby..” he curls into your frame to rest his forehead against the cool tile, keeping his gaze on your hand while your other grips tightly around his crown of sopping wet hair. his fingers slip out, then nudge against your lips, which you open instinctively, sucking on his leftover drool on them while your hand speeds up on his cock. focused.

taste, devour. soaked, drenched.

that’s when he quivers, the feeling of you wrapped around his body, his fingers, his cock. he can’t stand it, getting lost in the feeling of you taking his body, head tilting slightly back as his lips gently skim over the tile wall from the motion. his eyes were fluttered shut, eyebrows furrowing as water trickles down the top of his head, down the front of his face, dripping off the curl of his bottom lip and tipped chin.

his fingers sink deeper into your mouth and you hollow your cheeks, feeling his cock twitch more violently in response, hearing him puff out higher moans against the wall that skims the tip of his nose.

“oh, oohh, fuck- fuck me..” he whimpers, pressing his fully body weight onto yours, trapping you in.

and it’s until he feels you gently graze your thumbnail over his slit and your teeth digging over his knuckles, his twitching hips spasm, buckling with a loud whine as his thick load spurts into your hand and onto your abdomens between your heaving bodies.

… fuck.

“Admiral…” 

“Speak up, Lieutenant,” Seonghwa barked from his chair. 

“One of our ships seems to be… acting weird.”

The admiral stood up and moved down the aisle to the bay windows of his ship. His shrewd gaze searched out the ship that did not belong with the others. It was easy, really. The rest of them were in lancer formation and this one was… seemingly doing the spins. 

“Get them on comms,” Seonghwa ordered.

“Beta-7, you are out of formation. Do you copy?” The lieutenant droned. 

“Am I?” A chirpy voice responded. “How odd.”

The lieutenant stared at Seonghwa like he didn’t know what to do.

Seonghwa slowly closed his eyes, lids fluttering due to the eyeroll he was attempting to hide. He knew that voice. He rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.

“Lieutenant, inform squadron Delta that there is a rogue ship in the Beta squadron and it needs to be eliminated,” Seonghwa said.

The lieutenant radioed the command, looking uneasy. Someone had infiltrated their ranks? The empire's???

Seonghwa noted the particular frequency Beta-7 had spoken on and took the comms himself. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Seonghwa hissed as he moved out of the bride with a quick, brisk walk.

“Having fun,” You said throatily.

“I told you to be discreet,” Seonghwa snapped. 

“Mmmm…” Your voice sounded like you were pretending to think about it. “That’s not really my style.”

“Star, please,” Seonghwa lowered his voice. “I’ve ordered them to attack you.”

“Oh goodie,” You replied, sounding eager for a fight. “I was wondering how long it would take until I got into a fight.”

The comms cut and Seonghwa let out a grunt of frustration. Some stormtroopers flinched at the angry sound coming from the Admiral. An angry admiral usually meant one of their heads on a platter. They saluted him and then quickly marched away. 

Seonghwa moved back to the bridge to watch the chaos unfold from his chair. You drove circles around the tie fighters that came for your bomber ship. You easily picked them off one by one. You had cut off comms with Seonghwa as you fought but Seonghwa knew your belly laughter in the middle of battle. It had mocked him more often than naught. 

You were a smuggler and a thief and a rogue and had been a pain in his side for years. Countless missions had been thwarted because of your cheeky gall to rebel against the empire. Or was it you simply enjoyed the chase? Either way, Seonghwa always lost to your schemes. 

It wasn’t until one fateful day, when you had finally abducted the Admiral under the guise of a stormtrooper for the rebellion, that you two had been stuck together. Your escape pod had been shot down in an attempt to stop you but it had only brought you two into a close proximity situation. 

During the time that you two had been stuck with each other, the admiral had the veil pulled back from his eyes. His confusion on which side was the righteous inevitably led to helping you take down the empire from within. It was a thin line to balance on, but Seonghwa wasn’t an admiral for nothing. 

Once you had rid yourself of all the tie fighters, you proceeded to make a beeline to the imperial destroyer that you were looking to bombard. Its shields had already been taken down by several x-wings, the rebellion’s ships, so it took nothing for you to use the empire’s own bombs to take down the destroyer. 

“Lieutenant,” Seonghwa said in a low voice. “Did you forget to radio to the other ships that we have a rogue bomber on the loose?”

The lieutenant swung around in his seat, eyes wide. “But Sir! I--”

Seonghwa punched the chair in anger, causing the entire bridge to curl their shoulders on themselves. Seonghwa’s rage was famous. Seonghwa smoothed a hand over his hair, his face now devoid of any emotion. 

“Lieutenant, you have cost us one of our destroyers we need to win this battle. You will be demoted and will now work in the engine room,” Seonghwa ordered.

“Yes, Sir,” The lieutenant said dejectedly, accepting his fate. 

“Sir!” Another soldier took over. “They’ve captured the rogue ship.”

“At last, someone is doing their job,” Seonghwa purred dangerously.

This was your typical behavior, after all. Cause some mischief, ‘get caught’, and wait for Seonghwa in a cell, only to slip away later. Ironically, it was the only time you two could get with each other now. 

“Admiral leaving the bridge!” One of the soldiers announced, as Seonghwa swept his cap, and made a rather dramatic exit. 

“What do you think he does down there?” One of the bridge soldiers whispered from his dash to another.

The other shuddered. “I wouldn’t ever want to be the focus of his ire, locked in a cell with him.”

Seonghwa stood in front of the cell with the red lasers, viewing you as you were. You were sitting on the bench of the cell, with your hands manacled, as if it was a nice day in the park on Alderaan. Your aloofness to the danger you continuously put yourself in only fueled the fire inside of his chest.

“I want this entire sector vacated,” Seonghwa commanded the stormtroopers that were standing guard of your cell.

But Admiral Park--the prisoner--she’s escaped several times already!” One of the troopers protested.

Seonghwa stared down the long line of his nose. “Are you questioning my orders?”

The stormtroopers saluted smartly and then all of them vacated the sector.

Seonghwa pressed open the button to deactivate the lasers and then entered your cell. “Prisoner.”

“Admiral,” You replied jauntily.

“Was this really necessary?” Seonghwa wondered. He slowly removed his gloves.

You cocked your head. “You said it was going to be another month before they recalled you back to Coruscant. And the gloves stay on.”

Seonghwa’s nose bunched up for a microsecond in annoyance and then his features smoothed out. “So what you’re saying is that you needed some more jail time to keep you going?” 

Your manacles jingled merrily as you recrossed your legs to turn in the direction Seonghwa was walking in. “You have to accept that this is who I am, Seonghwa. I will always risk my life and live for the thrill of it.”

Seonghwa slowly closed his eyes, breathing in and out deeply. “Then you must accept that my heart beats out of its chest in worry for you every single time you’re out there risking your life.”

“Deal,” You agreed merrily, a happy smile practically overtaking your face. “Now hurry up and chain my new bracelets to the ceiling. It’s been too long.”

Seonghwa promptly hit a button outside the cell that utilized a strong magnetic to link the apex of your chains to the ceiling. You were now hanging by your wrists, toes barely touching the ground. 

One of his gloved hands harshly gripped your face. “You put my heart at risk, Star,” Seonghwa snarled. “What sort of punishment shall I extract from you?”

A smirk slowly spreaded across your face. “You think I’ll supply you with the information for my own demise, Big Boy?”

Seonghwa tsked loudly. “I should send you out of here on an escape pod for your insolence.”

You let your mouth pout and your eyes tear up. “You’d waste our precious time together?”

With a snarl, Seonghwa slammed his lips against yours, kissing you fiercely. You let him take the lead, enjoying the taste of his lips against yours. His tongue pushed inside of your mouth, luring your tongue to play with his. When you did not, Seonghwa broke the kiss. His barely contained lust and anger played across his usually non expressive face. His chest heaved and a strand of hair full from his severe man-bun.

“You finally get what you want and you remain there like this is not something you desire?” Seonghwa raged.

Your eyes dance with merriment. “What can I say, I enjoy you falling apart for me. Look at you. You’re not a cold imperial slave; you’re a monster that is gnawing at its enclosure.”

Seonghwa smoothed a gloved hand over his hair to push the strand of hair back in place. “You make me this way,” he mumbled.

“And I would do anything to set you, and your passion, free,” You confessed.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow in question. “Anything?”

You look upwards to where your hands are chained. “Do you not agree?”

“Kiss me.” A desperate whine threatened to escape the back of Seonghwa’s throat. 

This time Seonghwa hesitantly pressed his lips to yours, unsure of your response. When your tongue followed the seam of his mouth, he sighed and opened up for you. The two of you kissed slowly and sensually. You wrapped your suspended legs around the Admiral’s tiny waist, drawing him even closer to you. 

Seonghwa’s gloved hands rested on lower back, absorbed in the kiss he finally was able to receive. His world began and ended with your lips. Whether it was from the quick quips you sent his way or how they could coax the most guttural, animalistic noises from his consciousness. 

The kiss broke and you boldly licked up the side of his face. Seonghwa’s eyes were blown already. 

Without another word, the admiral made space between you and began to pull off your boots and pants. He ripped open your jacket and shirt until there were barely shreds of clothes still covering you. And he, still head to toe covered in his imperial uniform. 

Still, you ached for him. He was utterly your enemy in every way and yet, you needed him. 

“Seonghwa,” You said throatily. “Why aren’t you inside of me yet?”

Seonghwas’ gloves squeaked as his hands curled into fists at his side. “Just let me enjoy seeing you like this for a moment.”

You rolled your eyes. “You do not need more spank bank material, Sir.” You said ‘sir’ like it was a derogatory term. 

Seonghwa’s upper lip lifted in a soundless snarl. “You’re the one hanging from the ceiling in chains, prisoner. I don’t think you have an option.”

His eyes skated over your form and you watched as his dick pressed against pants. Who knew what swirled in his mind. Perhaps he fought with himself, the lust he felt for you, who was both his lover and his enemy. Perhaps he enjoyed the disheveled way that he had torn you apart. Perhaps he knew that all he had to do is shove himself between your legs and there would be no resistance. 

“Seonghwa,” You growled. You shook your arms so that the chains rattled. “Enough.”

“Please,” Seonghwa corrected you. 

You smirked. “You don’t have to beg.”

“No,” Seonghwa snapped. He strode back to your form, gloved hands running up your outer thighs, hiking them around his waist again. “Say please.”

“Please, sir,” You huskily. “Put that pretty, curved, imperial dick deep inside of me.”

A small, micro smile pulled at his red lips. “Pretty?”

“If it wasn’t so pretty, I’d hardly beg for it to fuck my mouth, now would I?”

Seonghwa’s lips hovered across from yours, his breath hot on your lips. “We don’t have time for that.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying, Seonghwa,” You growled again. “Fuck me so hard the chains rattle or we’re going to lose the precious time we have. I’ll go start another battle if that means another session.”

“No need,” Seonghwa replied simply. “I can give you what you want, since you asked so nicely.”

The admiral undid his pants and pulled the previously discussed curved, pretty dick out of his pants. He pulled aside your simple underwear and ran the underside of his cock against your slick folds. Your head fell back at the feeling of his cock running across your wet cunt. 

“That’s it, make those noises for me, prisoner. How my subordinates tremble as they hear my prisoner moan.” 

Seonghwa’s hand slipped over the curve of your hip to hold you in place so that he could push against your clenching hole. He had to bite down on his lip to keep in the groan that threatened already to spill from his lips. It was always a fight to get inside of you, despite how wet you were for him. Everything in you always fought against him, even the cunt that called for him like a siren in the dark deep space that he called home. 

“Fuck, yes, finally!” You moaned. 

You rocked your hips, swung your body and allowed the chains above you to jingle merrily, as if they too celebrated that Seonghwa was finally inside of you. 

“Always so eager,” Seonghwa chuckled like only a man inside of his lover can, full of confidence that they are exactly where they belong. 

“Can you… blame me…?” You panted as Seonghwa’s cock slid in and out of you. “This cock was made for fucking. Your body is lost as an admiral.”

“In another world, perhaps I am the whore and you are the master,” Seonghwa mused. 

“Mmmmm,” You moaned. “I bet I fuck you good too.”

“Star,” Seonghwa said your nickname like it was a sin. “You always fuck me good.”

You groaned and pressed your sweaty forehead to his. “Give me what I want.”

Seonghwa’s gloved hand slapped against your ass cheek loudly and you shouted in triumph. “Fuck you, Admiral.”

His other hand mimicked the same pattern. Then both hands clenched down on your ass cheeks. The casual way he had fucked into, allowing you to somehwat take control, was gone. He fully jackhammered into your body, making the chains rattle and moan with the motion. 

“You arrogant fucking fool!” You shouted, keeping up appearances that you were being tortured. 

“Now give me what I want,” Seonghwa ordered.

The admiral’s obscenely long tongue pushed out of his mouth and practically aligned with his chin. You gathered spit in your mouth and aimed it onto his tongue with a powerful push. Seonghwa took the gift and showily swallowed it. 

“God,” You laughed. “You are so fucked up.”

“For you, Star,” Seonghwa whispered reverently. 

With a loud guttural groan, you came hard around Seonghwa’s cock, being sent over the edge as his cock passed over the spongy part inside of you. His curved cock was practically made for pleasure. As your walls fluttered around Seonghwa, he quietly shot his seed inside of you with the reserve only a soldier of the imperial army could. Some days you wished to hear the whines and grunts from the days when you were in close proximity together. But that was not to be. Not until the empire fell, of course.

Your breaths mingled as you both came down from your respective highs. A companionable, happy grin split both your faces. You could argue, bicker, and fight, but at the end of the day, sex always brought you together. 

“One of these days I will capture you forever,” Seonghwa vowed. 

“I’d like to see you try,” You raised your chin arrogantly. 

“A caged bird doesn’t sing as sweetly as a free one.”

Seonghwa’s eyes shuttered and he stepped back. Just like that, his imperial mask slipped back on. “The day will come. Either I will keep you as a consolation prize--”

“Or the Empire will be ashes and I refuse to let you get caught up in that wildfire,” You assured him. 

Seongwha kissed his gloved thumb and then pressed it to your lips. Your throat tightened with emotion. “You’re mine either way, Star.”

You breathed in and out deeply and then began to swing yourself back and forth until the chains had shimmied far enough that they broke from the magnet’s grasp. You pulled a lockpick from your hair and made quick work of the manacles at your wrists. They made a loud noise as the chains fell to the floor with them.

“Always a pleasure to watch you work,” Seonghwa chuckled darkly. 

You touched his nose cheekily. “I could always show you a trick or two. You never know when a rebel scoundrel might take you prisoner.”

“You already own my heart. There’s no escaping that,” Seonghwa shook his head. 

He made his way to the cell’s door and once he was outside, he pushed the button to enact the lasers once again. “At least wait until I’m partway to the bridge again. Last time you were gone so quickly I might have been suspected.”

“I’m sorry I’m so good at my job, Admiral,” You retorted jauntily. 

Once on, the strap-on looks much bigger and more intimidating. You give a light slap, and it wobbles in its place. You couldn't help yourself but smile at the pink dick. It was funny in a way. Seeing such a thing attached to your hips. Mingi, on the other hand, is looking directly at the dildo with a nervous look in his eyes. He's sitting on the edge of the bed naked with his hand in between his legs, covering himself almost embarrassingly.

"Are you sure about this?" You make sure you want to make sure he's alright with this. This is his first time, and you don't want to ruin him.

"Yes, yes," he looks up to you, "I want this. I want you," he assures you, and he is telling the truth. He did want it, but he just couldn't help but be nervous. He had thoughts about it. What it would feel like, but suddenly, being face to face with it, he now could understand how you reacted when you and he first slept together. You were nervous about his size. It's quite ironic in this moment.

You walk over to him and place your hand on his shoulders. He's tense, and you start slowly massaging his muscles. You do this for a good five minutes, taking your time to relax him, kneading at his arms, and going down to his hands. You kiss each knuckle on the one hand before going to the next. Holding his hands, you lift them above his head and push him backwards on the bed. You shuffle upwards, so you're sitting on his stomach. You bring your hands onto his chest and knead softly.

"How would you like it, Min?" You ask sweetly. His face goes red, and he hides his face behind a hand. He felt like he could explode in seconds. You giggle quickly, covering his gorgeous blushed skin with kisses. He places a hand on your face and lightly pulls you away to look at you... You stand between his legs as he no longer feels the nerves to hide from you.

"Like this, I want to be able to see you," he answers softly.

You grin widely and shuffle past the bed to grab the lube from the bedside table. You come back and position yourself on top of Mingi, his legs slightly elevated with a pillow under his waist. His ass flushed against you.

"First up, I'm going to prepare you. Because if I don't it'll hurt like a bitch," you speak to him through it, trying to sound light-hearted in order to make him more comfortable.

"Hmm," he mumbles in response. You squirt a decent amount onto your fingers and coat them well. You rub the gel between your fingers, warming it up so it isn't too cold for him. Bringing your fingers down you lightly press at his rim.

"I'm going to put a finger in," you tell him, waiting for him to give a short nod before you insert one finger. He squirms as he gets used to the feeling. It's a feeling he is unable to describe. It makes him feel warm, hot even, inside. The feeling of being full slightly. It was strange but his body yearned for more.

"Add another," he moaned wiggling his hips slightly. You do as he asks for and slips into another finger. You spread your fingers inside him, and he lets out a higher-pitched gasp. It's honey to your ears. You add a third finger and he grips the sheets under him. He brings the sheets over his face feeling embarrassment overwhelm him at the idea he is actually enjoying something so vulgar. you tsked with a small smile stopping your movements for a moment.

"Uncover your face, Mingi. You said you wanted to see me," you tried to impersonate his words prior to making a smile crack on his face. He uncovers his face and you see him panting softly. His cheeks are a lovely pink almost hot to the touch. This is a side of him you've never seen but now that you've seen it. You want more. You crave it. You want to push every sound out of him and eat it up. After a while, you pull out and Mingi whines feeling empty.

"Now for the actual thing," you chuckle, grabbing the lube. You put just enough on the strap-on, slathering it up with your hand and ensuring that Mingi watches with wide eyes.

"You like what you see?" You ask while stroking the dildo making him think about at all the times he would say that to you, but now the roles have reversed and it makes him want more.

"Just fuck me already," he groans. A chuckle escapes your lips as you line the dildo to his entrance. You enter only the head and watch the pink dildo slip in slowly. You don't go any further as you hear Mingi whine and arch his back slightly. You haven't put the whole thing in and he's acting like this. Good lord, you're turned on by this. Sliding in all the way at the slowest pace you can do, you watch as your boyfriend's face contorts in pleasure. So this is why he enjoys this position so much. You thought.

"Fuck, Fuck." He didn't know what to say. What to do. He was lost in the pleasure you gifted him. He never understood the idea of feeling full until right this moment. All his nerves felt like they were on fire in the best way possible. He could feel his cock hitting his abdomen with each thrust you do. You also seemed to take notice, leaning on your left hand you bring your right down to grab the base of his shaft, starting to move up and down in a slower motion than your hips.

"You like that baby?" You cooed, thrusting harder, gaining a little more confidence with each snap. Mingi nodded vigorously, arching his back more. His legs widened for you, making you have more room to go deeper inside him. He couldn't hold back anymore, he felt his release coming in fast, and the moment he felt your thumb rub against his slit he knew it was over.

"Shhhiittt." He moaned with a pitch you've never heard come out of your lover. It was whiny, high and desperate. You squeezed his cock as his load painted his tummy and chest. You rode his high until coming to a complete stop. He took in big breaths, panting like crazy while sweat dripped down from him onto the bed sheets. You watched him with a smile, slowly pulling out, making sure not to hurt him. He stayed there for a moment while you took the strap-on off. You grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom, before coming back to clean him up. He watched you the whole time with hooded eyes.

"How was it?" You ask him, crawling onto the side of the bed so you could cuddle up to him. He engulfed you in his large arms, clinging to you with passion. He didn't think much of the idea, not even thinking he would enjoy it. But he was glad he asked, and he was also so happy you accepted. He gave your forehead a little kiss, feeling sleep begin to take hold of him.

"It was perfect.... Thank you."

©Ja3hwa. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

“We know that,” Yeri says with a chuckle and roll of her eyes. “Thinking about what, hm?” she presses, and you balk.

“She’s probably thinking about Haechan and what stunts he’s gonna pull today.” Karina supposes, and you frown, upset you’ve been caught.

In your defense, Haechan is always up to shenanigans when you’re around; he pulls at your skirt to fluster you, plays with your hair to get your attention, strokes under your chin just to watch your eyes glaze over—you name it, he’s either done it or is probably thinking about it.

You can’t honestly say his advances are unwelcome because, well, you’ve had a crush on him for the past six months. But something about him is so intense, so jarringly locked in, that it makes you hesitate, and being the object of his full and undivided attention never fails to make you the shyest version of yourself, and you manage to make a fool of yourself almost every single time you get around him, and you have no idea how you’re going to deal with his antics today. 

“Girl.” Karina’s voice cuts through the fog in your brain and you blink hard, focusing on your friend’s concerned expression. “You’re doing it again.”

“Oh. Sorry,” you mutter, rubbing your arm awkwardly. “I’m here, for real.”

As the bell dings and the doors open, the three of you file out of the elevator, walking towards the end of the hall to your destination.

“If you need help with him, let us know. We can make up a code word!” Karina suggests helpfully, and you smile, endeared by your friend’s attempt to calm your nerves.

“What should it be?” you wonder, and she screws her face up thoughtfully.

“Blinker.” Yeri answers, and you both turn to look at her. “It should be blinker. Like, if he’s getting too close and you can’t handle it, you can just say you kinda wanna try hitting a blinker or something like that.”

“The last time I hit a blinker, I coughed for ten minutes straight and it was the most painful experience of my life.” Karina recalls, grimacing at the memory. “It’s perfect.”

“Great.” Yeri says, smiling reassuringly at you before the three of you stop in front of the apartment door. Without a second thought, Yeri knocks three times on the door, stepping back to where you two are standing and waits with you for someone to open the door.

It opens a moment later to reveal Haechan standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe and the other holding the door, and you wonder how such a simple stance has you short of breath.

He looks at Karina and Yeri, smiling pleasantly, before he locks eyes with you. Slowly wetting his lips, his eyes slowly drag up and down your frame, taking in your outfit and appearance before he meets your gaze once more and drops one eyelid into a flirtatious wink.

“Come on in,” he invites, stepping back to let Karina and Yeri in. When it’s your turn to pass, he moves closer, deliberately blocking part of your way so you have to brush by him to enter, and you’re sure it’s also no coincidence that he’s positioned himself so your chest has to brush against his. You swallow your nerves and continue walking past him, not daring to look back in case he’s looking at you; which, if today is anything like every other day you all hang out, he most certainly is. 

Shutting the door behind you, Haechan follows after the three of you into the living room, but waits, standing, by the chair where Mark sits—for what, you don’t know. You wave hello to Mark in his favorite armchair and Jeno on one end of the couch, who greet you pleasantly and resume their tasks of packing the bong and rolling a joint, respectively. Mildly confused but saying nothing at Haechan’s behavior, you take a seat at the other end of the couch, only for Haechan to move at last, crossing the living room to sit directly next to you.

Your throat dries up at the prospect of being so close to him, and you inhale shakily, wanting desperately to roll your eyes back in your head when you catch a whiff of his intoxicating cologne.

Haechan doesn’t say anything for a moment, just rests one elbow on his knee and observes you with his cheek in his palm. His expression is nothing short of desiring as he takes in your appearance, your burgundy pleated skirt and short-sleeved cream blouse apparently quite the fascinating little number to him, causing you to shift awkwardly in your seat and self-consciously tug your skirt down a bit.

“Relax,” he chuckles. “I’m staring at you because you look good,” Haechan compliments, eyeing you appreciatively. “You always look good, though, but today… damn.”

You blink at him, stunned by the flirtatious lilt to his voice, and mumble, “Oh.”

“Oh?” he mimics you, chuckling, and you furrow your brows, frowning at his teasing. His brows lift up as his face brightens with amusement, and he shakes his head slowly with a smile.

“Thank you.” you say softly, and he nods, smile widening. 

“You’re so cute.” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. Your eyes dart around, looking everywhere but at him, but he recaptures your attention when he snickers quietly and you meet his gaze to see he’s no longer looking at your eyes, but your lips, and there’s a distinct longing in his stare that unnerves you and, if you’re honest, piques your curiosity. “Did you make it here okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, eyes shifting back and forth from his eyes to your lap before you give into temptation and look at his lips, regretting it instantly when they quirk up into a smirk as he catches you looking. “The bus was basically empty, and it had heating today.”

“Mm, that’s good to hear,” he muses, running his fingers through his hair, and you attempt to hide the way you swallow thickly at the attractive sight. “We don’t want anyone pressing up against such a pretty girl and trying anything sleazy, right?”

“Um…” you trail off, managing to restrain the reply on the tip of your tongue that Haechan is probably the most likely candidate to press up against you and try something sleazy.

“...Right.” he finishes for you, and you nibble your bottom lip.

“...Right.” you echo, and he grins. 

“So… Do you wanna smoke?” he asks.

“I do,” you confirm shyly, and he smiles slightly, no doubt amused by your nervousness.

“Good girl. Did you wanna hit my pen? It’s pretty strong.” he offers, and you won’t lie—your brain blanks for a minute at the praise, but you’re pretty sure you manage to recover just in time for Haechan not to notice anything.  

“Okay,” you reply hesitantly, and he grins.

“Great—give me one second to get something.” he says before standing up and heading to the back of the apartment to his room. You wait fairly patiently, fingers lightly drumming on your knee as you wait for him to return.

“What’s up?” Mark asks curiously.

“Haechan’s getting something from his room.” you explain, and Mark nods slowly, lips pursed thoughtfully.

Haechan returns from the back of the apartment after a moment with a new cartridge in his hand. You watch with mild fascination as he deftly switches the cartridges in his pen, taking a test pull and holding it in for so much time, you’d swear he’s trying to show off.

When he looks over at you and winks before blowing it out, your suspicions are confirmed. 

“This strain is special,” Haechan murmurs to you, and his eyes drop to your lips as he continues, “it’s a ‘horny’ strain.”

“A horny strain?” you mumble, confused, and he nods with a grin.

“It heightens libido.” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Want some?”

“That’s not real,” Mark calls out from across the living room, and you crane your head to see him. “There’s no actual science to back that up.”

Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No one signed up for your TEDTalk on weed; save it.”

Mark grumbles something about misinformation being the death of society but remains otherwise silent.

Haechan calls your attention back to him with a simple clearing of the throat, and you look back at him to see his gaze heavy-lidded and sultry as he regards you, and you start to wonder if Mark might actually be the misinformed one.

“Want some?” he repeats his question from earlier, and you hesitate, making him roll his eyes and chuckle. “It’s not gonna bite you.” As you shift closer to take the pen from him, he holds it out of your reach with a glint in his eye. “I might, though,” he murmurs, and you swallow thickly.

He scans your frame, eyes lingering on your almost outstretched hand, and takes a slow, deep pull from the pen, not holding it in for nearly as long before he’s leaning towards you suddenly, making you yelp and draw back.

“Relax,” he mumbles, some of the smoke slipping from his mouth. He cups your chin in his hand and tugs gently to get you to open your mouth before leaning closer, so close that you fear your lips might touch, leading you to attempt to pull back; however, Haechan’s grip on your chin tightens, a clear sign to stay where you are, and he blows the smoke into your mouth slowly. You’re deeply flustered at first, but your instincts kick in as you inhale the secondhand smoke, holding it in your lungs for a couple of seconds before blowing it back out.

When you’re done exhaling, you expect to pull back, but Haechan’s grip on you hasn’t loosened, the male now studying your lips with an intensity in his gaze that gives you a twinge of anxiety and something else you don’t have it in you to identify. 

“You ever shotgunned before?” he asks softly, and you shake your head as much as his hold on you will allow. “You did a good job.”

“Thanks,” you mumble meekly. “Can you let me go now?”

He rolls his eyes slowly, lips quirking into a cocky grin as he does just that, releasing your chin and sitting back. “If you say so.”

“Thanks,” you mutter quietly, and he flicks his brows upwards in acknowledgement, gaze scanning you before lingering for a moment by the side of your face. “What is it?”

“You have something in your hair,” he says, gesturing to near your ear. When you fail to retrieve the foreign object, he tsks in dissatisfaction before leaning over and gently removing a single white feather from your hair. “Probably from the pillows.” he explains, the backs of his fingers gently grazing your ear as he pulls back. When you squirm away from his touch slightly, the contact too sensitive and ticklish, Haechan chuckles softly. “Look how nervous I make you.” His fingers return to your ear, gently stroking the shell of your ear, and your face blazes with embarrassment and something else as he hums softly. “Even your ear is hot. Do I make you hot anywhere else?” He drops his hand, fingers lightly skimming your upper thigh, and you just about jump out of your skin, cursing internally when you see the delight in his expression.

“Thanks for getting the feather out of my hair,” you say in a desperate attempt to navigate the conversation elsewhere, but it seems Haechan isn’t quite set on letting you off that easily.

“Oh, come on,” he presses, sitting closer to you and leaning so close you can smell his (delicious) cologne. “Don’t tell me your heart isn’t racing right now.”

It is, you think grimly. That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.

“Haechan, leave the poor girl alone,” Karina calls from the other end of the couch, and the momentary waver in Haechan’s attention on you as his eyes dart elsewhere is all you need to scoot further back and smooth your skirt out with a vigorous clearing of your throat.

When Haechan looks back over at you, you’ve thankfully managed to regain a semblance of your composure, your gaze politely but pointedly focused at your hands in your lap.

“Pretty girl, you want another hit of the pen?” Haechan offers, and you think back to the way Haechan clutched your chin earlier to shotgun you, finally shaking your head in refusal. “Okay,” he relents, reaching into his back pocket for something and frowning before pulling out an empty hand. “I have something for you.” he says before standing up and heading back to his room.

He emerges once more with a half of a red gummy cube sticking out of his mouth, sitting back down on the couch and draping his arm over the back so it’s ghosting just over your shoulders. “Bite,” he urges through closed teeth, and you shoot him a wary look. “Bite,” he stresses, and you falter, not sure if you should.

“Is it an edible?” you ask cautiously, and he rolls his eyes, an amused chuckle leaving him. 

“Yes. Bite.” It’s not a request, and instead of getting huffy about him bossing you around, you’re more surprised than anyone else when you lean in and carefully bite the other end of the gummy, tugging your half away from his mouth before chewing it. It’s sweet and sugary, but there’s a definite strong aftertaste, a tongue-drying, almost numbing sensation that reminds you it was more than just a little snack. “See, you don’t mind sharing with me, right?”

You don’t answer, instead sitting back and pulling out your phone to fire off a quick text to your group chat consisting of the two girls sitting a little ways away from you and your fourth roommate, Yurin, who usually frequents these hangout sessions but had to pass this time to study for midterms.

you [18:11pm] SOS

you [18:11pm] he keeps being all TOUCHY TOUCHY what do i do?

You set your phone down on the couch face down and stand up, heading to the bathroom to calm your nerves. 

Little do you know, your phone buzzes while you’re gone, Haechan’s curiosity getting the better of him as he flips your phone over. 

Luckily for him, and very unluckily for you, you don’t have a privacy setting on your Messages app notifications, meaning that any incoming texts can be read by any prying eyes, no passcode necessary.

yurin big trouble mister [18:14pm] maybe tell him how you get all TOUCHY TOUCHY with yourself to the thought of him 😁

karina bo bina [18:16pm] god could you be any more crass??

yurin big trouble mister [18:17pm] LMAOOO i couldn’t help it the joke was right there

yeri berry [18:18pm] you’re laughing. our dear friend is about to get consumed by a weed smoking incubus and you’re laughing.

Haechan snorts to himself in amusement, deliberately leaving your phone face-up for your return. You enter the room shortly after, picking up your phone and scrolling through your notifications with a small frown bordering on a grimace.

“What’s got you all upset, pretty?” Haechan asks, feigning curiosity, and you flinch, locking your phone and tossing it in your lap in a panic. “And now you’re jumpy, too? What’s on that phone that’s got you so stressed out, hm?” 

“Nothing,” you answer far too quickly for your liking. 

“I don’t think it’s nothing,” Haechan persists, voice lowering in pitch and volume as he moves closer to you, eyes bright with excitement and something else you can’t quite place. “I think there’s something incriminating on that phone.”

“Incriminating?” you mumble, dazed and flustered, and Haechan nods slowly, lips curling into a wolfish grin. 

“Incriminating like… nudes, maybe,” he muses, tapping his chin thoughtfully, and at the sight of your confused face, shakes his head. “That must not be it. Maybe a message of some sort… from a friend…” You freeze as you realize exactly what’s going on, and Haechan’s grin only widens now that he can tell you know that he knows. “Wonder what you look like when you… how did she put it? ‘Get all touchy touchy with yourself’ to the thought of me.” 

“Haechan,” you murmur, heart rate quickening as you try to think of any possible way out of this conversation. “It’s not what you think it is.”

“I think it’s exactly what I think it is.” he counters with a mischievous wiggle of his brows, and you whimper in panic, desire starting to blaze in his eyes at the sound. 

“What were you doing looking at my phone, anyway?” you accuse, cursing to yourself as your voice shakes slightly.

“I’m nosy,” is all he offers in response. “And, oh, please, you wanted me to see that text. You wanted me to know that late at night,” he teases, pulling your hand closest to him away as you squeal and try to cover your ears, “you touch your pretty little pussy,” he forces your hand back down between you two with a chuckle, “and think about me.”

“Could you lower your voice, please?” you mumble nervously, and he just laughs.

“You don’t want everyone to know that you’re into me, do you?” he remarks, and you swallow thickly, looking down at your lap. “I’ll keep your little secret. For a price.”

You study him out of the corner of your eye suspiciously. “What price?”

He strokes his chin thoughtfully before leaning back and draping his arm behind you on the couch. “I’ll let you know.” His voice is teasing but there’s an ominous edge to his voice that makes you gulp.

“Hey, Yeri?” you call, and her attention is on you instantly. “Remember when, um, you hit that blinker earlier? How’s your throat feeling?”

Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly in understanding and she rubs her throat gingerly, frowning deeply. “It’s still sore. Wanna come get some water with me?”

“Yes,” you accept the offer gratefully and practically spring up from the couch, following after Yeri and ignoring, to the best of your ability, Haechan’s little snicker from behind you.

“You wanna switch seats?” Yeri asks in a low, concerned voice as you two enter the kitchen, and she laughs when you hesitate.

“I mean, I like it, I just… need a quick break.” you mumble, and she nods, pouring herself a glass of water. “Could you guys, um, hear him earlier?”

“No… why?” she scrutinizes you, and you blink, flustered. 

“He saw the group chat texts.” you mutter, and her eyes widen in alarm, setting her glass down a bit too harshly, the loud clink resonating throughout the room.

“I’m gonna kill Yurin.” she hisses.

“Not if I get there first.” you huff, and she snickers. Footsteps sound out from the living room, making their way to the kitchen, and Yeri pauses. “It’s not Haechan,” you assure her. “I think it’s Karina.”

Sure enough, Karina enters the kitchen, and Yeri looks at you in surprise. “How’d you know?”

“I recognize the footsteps.” you explain with a shrug. “Plus, the guys are wearing house slippers and we’re in, like, socks, so it makes a different sound.”

“Okay, little miss super spy.” Yeri teases with a laugh, and you giggle, pushing her playfully. “Have you recovered, you think?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, smiling. “I’m ready to go back out there.”

“What’d I miss?” Karina whines, and Yeri looks at you expectantly.

“Haechan saw the texts about me… at night… that Yurin sent.” you explain carefully, and Karina lets out a loud gasp, her hand flying to cover her mouth.

“I’m killing her.” she groans, and you and Yeri chuckle.

“Get in line, girl.” Yeri says, and Karina snorts in amusement.

“You’re gonna be okay if we go back out there, right?” Karina asks worriedly, and you’re briefly overcome with appreciation for your friends.

“I’ll be okay, I’m pretty sure. I’ll just say blinker again if anything goes wrong.” you confirm, nodding resolutely, and the crease between Karina’s brows fades away as she relaxes.

You three make your way back to the living room, fully preparing to sit back down, but thankfully, before Haechan can torment you further, Jeno inadvertently saves your life and whatever’s left of your dignity by standing up from the couch abruptly and clapping his hands together. “I’m hungry. Diner?”

“I would kill for waffles,” Karina agrees, and Mark and Haechan also stand and start to grab their belongings as you all make your way to the door and slip your shoes on. 

As you shuffle between Yeri and Karina for protection and wait as the elevator descends to the indoor garage of the apartment complex, a tickle starts to build in your throat, making you clear it quietly, then more insistently when the sensation persists. 

“You okay?” Haechan asks, hand poised over your back to pat it in assistance, and you nod.

“My throat is just… a little dry,” you mumble, and Haechan nods in understanding, reaching into his jacket and handing you a Blow Pop. “Thanks,” you mutter, pleasantly surprised as you unwrap the lollipop and stick it into your mouth. By the time the doors open on the garage floor, the flavored saliva produced by the sweet treat sitting in your cheek has almost entirely soothed your throat, and you’re feeling significantly better. 

The six of you make your way to where Jeno’s and Haechan’s cars are parked beside each other and stand behind the two cars, silently deliberating amongst yourselves.

“Well, I call shotgun.” Mark calls out, and Jeno unlocks his car, Mark sliding into the passenger seat.

“There’s no way all six of us are gonna cram into Jeno’s car,” Yeri remarks incredulously. 

“Yeah, definitely not, because my middle backseat’s seat belt isn’t working and the airbag sensors are fucked up, so it’s a seat belt or nothing in my car.” Jeno laments, and your skin starts to crawl as you realize where this might be heading. 

“So your car only seats four… and there are six of us…” you say slowly, pulling the lollipop from your lips with a muted wet pop that has Haechan eyeing you like a lion about to corner the slowest gazelle of the herd. Usually, there are seven of you, so even if you had to ride with Haechan, there’d be a third body present in the form of the lovably boisterous Yurin.

Curse Yurin’s midterms, and curse Yurin for sending that text, and curse yourself for leaving your phone where Haechan could see, and curse Haechan for being nosy—

“I’ll ride with Haechan,” Karina offers, noticing the way you become more and more quiet as you sink further into your worries. 

“No, you won’t.” Haechan says, leaning against his passenger door. Everyone looks over at him, and he just pushes off of the door, opening it and pointing directly at you. “Get in.”

“Oh, gosh.” you mumble, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed effect making you feel sluggish or you’re really that apprehensive, but you feel a bit like a puppet with sandbags for shoes, your feet hesitantly shuffling, dragging, scuffling towards Haechan’s passenger door.

“It’s an eight-minute drive,” Yeri calls to you sympathetically, and you nod, shooting her a feeble thumbs up that you don’t even believe. “We’ll see you soon!” 

“Yeah,” you croak, feeling very much like a lamb being led to slaughter, and Haechan smiles sweetly at you, baring all his teeth as you sit in his car. He closes the passenger door and crosses over to the driver’s side, opening the door and getting in. 

When Haechan finishes settling down into the driver’s seat, checking his mirror views and pulling up the GPS to the diner, he straps himself in and looks over at you, eyes scanning your frame for something—you don’t quite know what. Seemingly done with his inspection, he leans closer to you without warning and reaches for the seat belt buckle in your chair, pulling it out and over your body as he clicks it into place. The whole while, he’s invading your personal space, your breath catching in your throat as you realize his face is close enough to yours that you could probably count his lashes if you wanted to.

He turns his head ever so slightly, eyes locking on yours, and you blink rapidly in alarm, rendered immobile as he studies your face.

“You look so cute, all innocent and helpless like this.” he murmurs softly, and the tiniest of squeaks escapes you, his eyes flashing with glee at the sound. “Now stop looking at me like that,” he warns, “or I’ll kiss you.”

You blanch, trying immediately to make any other expression than the one you didn’t even know you were sporting, and he chuckles before sitting back in his seat and starting his car. He turns the air conditioning on—a strange choice, considering it’s a bit nippy outside—and pulls out of his spot, starting to drive towards the diner.

It doesn’t take long for you to get cold, goosebumps gradually appearing on your arms and legs, but you’re a bit too nervous to say anything, instead suffering in silence. You clasp your hands together in your lap, rubbing them together for warmth, and, as he stops at a red light, Haechan looks over at you, watching in fascination as you shift in your seat for any sort of friction that could warm you. After a moment, you notice his eyes fixated pointedly on your chest, and you spare a glance down to see, to your alarm, that your nipples are hard, starting to poke through your clothing, and you curse internally for wearing a thin, lacy bra that does nothing to conceal your stiffened buds.

He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, smirking in what seems like satisfaction, before refocusing his attention on the road. You cross your arms over your chest protectively, tucking your fingers into the crooks of your elbows as he drives down the road.

“We’re here,” he announces after some time, pulling into a parking spot in front of the diner and turning the car off. The cold air blowing through the vents shuts off, much to your relief, and you unbuckle your seat belt before he gets the chance, practically flinging yourself out of the car into the significantly less cold night air.

As you all file into the diner, you notice a man staring very pointedly at you and your bare legs and your chest, where your nipples have yet to go down. 

Haechan scans the room, catches sight of the man, and follows his gaze back to where you stand, his jaw clenching.

“Put this on,” Haechan murmurs, shrugging off his jacket and offering it to you. You start to take it, eager for warmth, but pause, looking at him suspiciously.

“Why?”

His gaze flicks over your shoulder at where the man from earlier sits, and understanding dawns on you. “Just—put it on for me?” 

You nod, gratefully accepting the jacket, and Haechan steps closer, draping it over your shoulders and helping you put your arms through the sleeves. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, and he nods.

“You look cute in my jacket.” he remarks with a small smirk, and your cheeks warm.

“Thank you,” you mumble, and he trails his tongue along his bottom lip before gesturing for you to follow after him with a jerk of his head, a quick peek past him revealing the hostess who’s arrived to take you all to your seats.

When you arrive at the booth, Haechan’s right by you, gesturing for you to go in first. You do so without complaint, preferring the inner seat anyway, but it’s when Haechan slides in next to you that you realize your mistake as he closes you into the booth corner, the main obstacle between you and freedom from, well, him.

As the hostess passes out menus and you all start to look them over, you feel the side of his hand resting against the side of your thigh, making you attempt to shift away from his hand, the touch too intimate for you to handle at the moment.

Somehow, his hand finds its way back against your leg, palm turned up slightly as he lightly grazes his fingertips along your thigh, and you suck in a sharp breath, doing your best to pass it off as a cough when Haechan looks over at you, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“I think I’m gonna get the breakfast platter,” Yeri says excitedly. “It comes with pancakes, eggs prepared how you want them, homefries, and your choice of meat.” 

“That sounds so good,” you reply thoughtfully. “I think I want a burger.” 

“Yeah, a burger sounds good,” Haechan agrees, eyes slowly sliding over to study your reaction as he flattens his palm against your leg, slowly sliding it up to caress your upper thigh. Your reaction must be nothing short of rewarding, as you jolt so forcefully that you shake the table slightly, and he chuckles softly.

“You okay, girl?” Karina asks, worried, and you nod, swallowing thickly.

“I just, um…felt a tickle on my ankle. Thought it was a bug or something.” you mumble, and she nods, eyebrows still furrowed in concern.

“I know I said waffles earlier, but I kind of want these barbecue ribs,” Karina says, pointing at an entry on the menu, but you can barely make your gaze focus on where her finger touches the menu because Haechan’s hand is still very much on your thigh, and to make matters worse, you think you like it.

His hand slides up higher, the side of his thumb slipping under the hem of your skirt, and you raise your glass to your lips in an attempt to act natural, hoping and praying no one notices the way your hand is shaking slightly.

Haechan leans in closer to you, murmuring in your ear, “This must be a dream come true for you, huh?” He grips your thigh firmly, not even attempting to play it off as a casual touch anymore, and you barely manage to stifle your yelp of surprise in time. “Must have been wanting this for so long,” he breathes secretively, smiling lips grazing the shell of your ear so subtly, no one else would notice unless they were paying unnaturally close attention.

You, however, do notice. Not only do you notice, but you suck in a sharp breath of surprise, the sudden movement making the water in your cup slosh forward and spill out slightly, a few droplets dripping down your chin.

You suck your teeth in mild irritation, glaring at Haechan as you reach for your napkin, but he’s faster, his free hand coming up and wiping the liquid off of your chin.  

“Um, thanks.” you mumble, and he nods, locking eyes with you as he licks at the pad of his thumb, cleaning off the water droplets with his mouth. “Oh, dear Neptune.” you whisper to yourself, feeling more and more overwhelmed by the moment. “Where is this waitress—I need to eat something.”

“Yeah, we should let her know we’re ready to order,” Mark says, waving a hand out to flag down the waitress. As she approaches, you sneak a peek at Haechan, whose expression is surprisingly calm and neutral given the sensual, slow circles he’s drawing on your upper thigh with his thumb.

Haechan’s hand slips further in between your legs, getting dangerously close to your core, and you decide that’s enough play time for him, clamping your legs together forcefully.

“You trapped my hand, pretty girl,” he points out with a growing grin, and you ignore him even as he continues, “I didn’t know you liked it that much.”

You still don’t give him a response, staring stubbornly out the booth window, and he chuckles before withdrawing his hand from your legs with such ease that you wonder if he was ever really stuck there.

“Oh, we’re doing the silent treatment? Copy that.” he muses, nodding slowly in understanding, and you can’t help but wonder what else he has in store for you.

Today, the energy in the room is entirely different—and you don’t like it one bit.

Haechan won’t even acknowledge you today; his eyes skip over you when he scans the room like you’re not even there, or, worse, he seems to be looking completely through you at times, completely unaffected by your presence.

“Girl, did you piss Haechan off or something?” Yeri whispers to you, and your brows knit together as you shake your head. “He hasn’t made a single move on you all day.”

“I know,” you mutter bitterly.

“Maybe he’s sick,” Karina supplies in an attempt to help, but her words practically fall on deaf ears as you stare burning holes into the side of his face as he laughs at something Mark said.

“I’m about to be sick,” you mumble, your stomach twisting uncomfortably as your somewhat secret crush that used to be obsessed with you treats you like you’re nothing more than a couch cushion.

You don’t know what’s come over you, but when Haechan gets up and heads towards the kitchen. you find yourself standing to follow, mumbling that you’ll be right back to Karina.

Haechan stands with his back to you at the kitchen island, pouring a can of something—it looks like Monster—into a glass, and you take a moment to admire his slender yet lean build, the curve of his shoulders and the perfectly mussed up state of his hair—

“I know you’re there, you know.” he says calmly, and your eyes widen as you immediately attempt to look busy doing anything other than blatantly ogling him. He turns right when you’ve reached for a bag of Ruffles chips and raises an eyebrow expectantly. “You have something you want to say?”

“What do you mean?” you ask, slightly thrown off-guard, and he blinks at you impassively.

“I noticed you staring at me,” is all he says in response, and you blanch, pursing your lips carefully.

“Haechan, are you mad at me?” you ask softly, and he smirks.

“And why do you ask that?”

You fidget with the hem of your skirt nervously, averting your gaze to look at the granite countertop. “Well, you… haven’t talked to me all night.”

Haechan doesn’t say anything for a concerningly long time, prompting you to look up at him and immediately wish you hadn’t. He looks beyond smug, and painfully attractive as he leans in slightly, not close enough to get in your space but close enough to send a thrill down your spine. 

“You were giving me the silent treatment the other day, right?” he reminds you, and you hesitate, realizing you were the cause for his radio silence. “I was just returning the favor.”

“Well, don’t.” you say with a frown, and he raises his eyebrows, amused and surprised.

“Why not? Did you miss me or something?” he teases, and you balk, losing all your nerve as quickly as you’d found it.

“No!” you answer quickly, and he arches an eyebrow skeptically, prompting you to continue, “No, I just—”

“You and I don’t really talk much, anyway,” Haechan muses, leaning his back against the island as he regards you with a cocky glint in his eyes. “So what is it you really miss, hm?”

“Well—” you struggle to find your words, and something softens in Haechan’s gaze, the cocky twinkle now accompanied with a smile bordering dangerously on fondness.

“You miss me messing with you, don’t you?” he asks, and at your lack of response, nods in confirmation. “You miss me touching you?” he questions, dragging out the syllables excruciatingly slowly. He sucks his teeth when you still don’t reply and says, “I know you do. You know you do. Now just admit it.”

“I can’t,” you protest weakly, and he shrugs, raising his hands in surrender.

“You want me to touch you again? Give me what I want.” He sounds dead serious and painfully unwavering on his stance, prompting you to whimper quietly to yourself, too wrapped up in your own nerves to notice the way his eyes darken at the sound of your desperation.

“I want you to touch me.” you mumble shamefully, and his lips quirk up into the beginnings of a smile. 

“Come here; say it again.” he urges, beckoning you closer, and you hesitate, making a challenge flash in his expression before he’s poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek and chuckling. “Don’t make me come over there.”

“I want you,” you say, “to touch me,” you repeat your words from earlier, trying desperately to look anywhere but at him.

You can see him crossing the distance between you in your peripheral vision, your insides tensing with anticipation as he gets closer and closer. To your utter disappointment, he continues to walk as if he’s going to pass you, only pausing to tilt his head to the side in a patronizing display of faux sympathy.

“Good girl. Now, was that so hard?” he chuckles, not even giving you a chance to respond before he continues his path out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

What in the absolute hell did you just get yourself into?

You’re coming back from the bathroom when you quite literally almost run into Haechan in the hallway. 

“Sorry,” you say, stepping to the side to get past, but he steps to the same side. You laugh awkwardly before stepping to the other side, only for him to do the same, his movements far too calculated to be a mistake, and you come to the realization that he’s intentionally blocking your path. “Haechan?” you ask quietly, nervousness creeping into your voice, and he chuckles.

He takes a step towards you, prompting you to take a cautious one backwards, and his smile widens as he advances on you, slowly but surely herding you back towards the bathroom. When your back hits the nearby wall, your eyes widen, and he mocks you, briefly widening his eyes in faux surprise before flicking his brows up suggestively and placing one hand on the wall by your head on the side you could escape from, successfully trapping you in a makeshift corner. 

“You’re so cute, really.” Haechan sighs, smiling fondly at you, but there’s a devious twinkle in his eye as he regards you.

As he closes in on you, your body is alight with nerves and anticipation, and you decide to try again, feebly calling, “...Haechan?”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he quiets you soothingly, reaching up with his free hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Don’t act like you don’t want this, baby.” As if to prove his point, he presses his knee between your legs, thigh pressing up against your clothed core, and a poorly restrained moan bubbles up in your throat.

“Haechan—” you whine, and he shoots you a smug smile.

“See, baby? I know you want it. You know I want it. That’s why you always wear these tiny fucking skirts whenever you come over,” he states, hand dropping from your face to tug at the hem of your skirt, and you gasp—both at the sudden yanking and the insistent pressing of his thigh against your core. “You like it when I do this. Bet you were waiting for me to slip my hands under your skirt to touch you.”

“Mm-mm,” you protest, but the way your hips move against him, rolling back and forth and grinding wantonly in search of relief, is telling another story, Haechan arching a brow skeptically. 

“Mm, no? You don’t like it? But, wait… what was that you said in the kitchen earlier?” he questions, a taunting lilt to his words. “‘I want you to touch me,’” he echoes your earlier request in a poor imitation of your voice. “Well, I’m touching you, baby—don’t you like it?” When your only reply is a small nod, he shakes his head disapprovingly, gaze darkening. “Words.”

“Yes,” you whimper, breath catching in your throat when he rewards you with a firm upwards press of his thigh into your core. Your movements speed up slightly as you feel that familiar tightening sensation in your abdomen, your climax not far ahead.

“Are you gonna cum just like this?” he asks, and there’s a hint of amusement to his words but it’s almost entirely overtaken by the heavy desire in his voice. 

“Mm-hm,” you whine softly, your desperation peaking as your high gets closer and closer. 

“Beg me to let you cum.” he urges, and you’re already so far gone that your shame is all but done away with.

“Please, Haechan, can I cum?” you pant urgently, a slight pleading quality to your words as you feel the beginnings of your climax, pleasure blooming between your legs in a gush of warmth. “Please?” you whimper, and something in him snaps, Haechan lurching forward and cupping your face in his hands to hold you in place as he kisses you deeply, his tongue tracing along your lower lip as you tremble and moan weakly into his mouth. 

When you move to pull away to breathe, he clutches your face more firmly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and exploring at his leisure, all the while ignoring your muffled, plaintive cries for air. 

“Haechan, I can’t breathe,” you rasp out finally, and he lets you go with a shaky inhale and an unmistakable reluctance. 

“You are so goddamn addicting.” he pants, and his hands drop to your hips, resuming the motions you weren’t aware you’d stopped. “Keep going.”

His hands keep guiding your movements, practically dragging you back and forth on his thigh as he kisses you again. This kiss is messier than the last as he sucks on your tongue and pulls back to trail his lips down your neck, stopping just above your pulse point and sucking hard, a gasp escaping you at the pleasurable sensation.

“Mine,” he grunts against your throat, sinking his teeth into a new patch of skin and sucking there, too, without a doubt leaving some form of mark behind. “All fucking mine.” he repeats, clutching your hips tighter and dragging you up his leg and closer to him, lips parting from your neck with a loud, wet pop and connecting with yours eagerly. “Gonna fucking ruin you, princess.”

“Hae—” you barely get the first syllable of his name out before he’s sealing his mouth over yours again, fingers creeping into the kiss to pry your mouth open.

“Open,” he mutters, brows furrowed in concentration. When you oblige, he taps your tongue impatiently until you let it hang out of your mouth, Haechan sucking in a deep breath as he eyes you appreciatively. Without any warning or preamble, Haechan spits directly onto your tongue, and you whimper, voice cracking slightly. “Swallow. I’m gonna do it again.” You swallow his saliva, the extra moisture in your mouth jarring but not unwelcome, and return to your previous pose of your mouth open with your tongue hanging out. 

He grins and leans in again, hovering over your waiting tongue as he drops a long, clear string of saliva from his puckered lips down to your mouth. “Don’t swallow.” He pulls back from you slightly and pushes his middle and ring finger into your mouth, the cool silver of his ring catching your taste buds as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth, gliding them against your tongue to collect as much wetness as he can. “Good girl,” he coos, pleased, and you’re embarrassed by the rush of warmth between your legs that appears at the praise. “Need them nice and wet for you.”

Not wasting a minute, he snakes his slick, spit-covered fingers past the band of your underwear and starts to stroke over your folds, digits gliding amongst your arousal with embarrassing ease. 

“You’re a mess down here,” he remarks, eyes alight with glee and something wild, primal as he teases you. “You like me that much? Hm?” He seems not to need an answer as he grins cockily at you, eyes scanning your face intently to drink in your every reaction to his touch, no matter how small. He trails his fingers up, up, up until he’s brushing the underside of your clit, and you jolt, flinching away. 

“Haechan, that’s sensitive—”

“I know, baby,” he coos. “That’s exactly why I’m doing it.” With the hand not currently in your underwear, he laces his fingers with yours, the back of his hand pressed against the palm of your own, and trails your linked hands down your body to join his other hand in your underwear. “Show me,” he rasps, and you blink at him, too far gone to fully understand exactly what he means. “Show me how you do it when you’re alone—when you think of me.”

Cheeks blazing, you realize you’re in no position to refuse, so you guide his hand into massaging your clit in circles, your abdomen tensing reflexively whenever his fingers graze the sensitive underside of your clit. 

“Talk to me, baby.” he urges gently, and you whine in protest, the fire in your face increasing nearly tenfold. “Wanna hear that pretty voice tell me how you touch your little pussy.”

“I just rub it in circles like this,” you mumble, voice slightly husky with desire, and the shift doesn’t go unnoticed, if the intensifying of Haechan’s gaze means anything. 

“You don’t go inside?” he asks softly, and you shake your head.

“Doesn’t feel good when I do it,” you whimper, and he sucks in air sharply, swearing under his breath as he watches your face twist in pleasure. It’s all too much for you, having his undivided attention on you like this, and you look away, a shudder traveling through your body as another climax approaches.

“Look at me,” he coaxes, and you reluctantly oblige, pleading eyes locking on his as your peak gets closer by the second. “Only look at me.”

“Okay,” you agree, the last syllable coming out like more of a squeak, and he smiles brilliantly, the hand not pleasuring you slipping out of your underwear and lifting your shirt up to reveal your breasts in your thin, lacy light blue bra. Leaning down, he wraps his lips around one of your nipples through the fabric and starts to suck, tongue swirling around the stiffening bud so wetly that his saliva starts to darken the fabric, the warmth of his spit seeping through the fabric. 

He sucks at your nipples with an almost ferocity, alternating breasts like he can’t get enough of either, and his hand snakes around your back to unclasp your bra, Haechan pushing the garment out of the way as soon as it’s loose and latching onto your nipple with a low groan of satisfaction.

As he flicks your nipple back and forth with his tongue, his fingers stroke you closer and closer to your high until you’re so close you can practically taste the sweet, heady feeling of ecstasy. “Show me what you sound like when you cum, baby.”

“Oh—shit—oh, my God,” you hiss as your eyes screw shut tight, pleasure coursing through your body as your orgasm travels through your system. “Feels so good,” you whimper, and he hums in agreement.

“Say my name, baby.”

“Haechan—” you moan wantonly, and he lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl as he tugs at your nipple with his teeth.

He doesn’t stop attending to your breasts until he’s certain he’s milked every last second of bliss from your body, alternating between sucking and flicking and swirling his tongue around the buds until you go limp, your body slumping against the wall for support. 

Finally, he pulls his arousal-coated fingers from your underwear, trailing them over your bottom lip before pushing the digits into your mouth to suck. 

You do so with an embarrassing amount of eagerness, and are just as surprised as Haechan when he pulls his fingers from your mouth and you whine in protest.

His brows shoot up into his hairline and you feel heat blazing furiously in your cheeks as he regards you with a mix of surprise and an expression that looks close to impressed.

“You like to suck, yeah?” he murmurs, and you nod hesitantly. Something flashes in his dark eyes, and he grins. “Wanna suck something bigger?”

Hesitant but undoubtedly excited, you nod, and he wets his lips before setting about unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans. 

As he does, you slowly sink to your knees, and when he looks up from his pants to see you kneeling before him, he lets out a loud swear that you fear might blow your cover.

As you stare in awe at his impressive size, you realize you’re less worried about getting caught than you are about having to stop. He watches you watch him with amusement and fascination, but the undercurrent of desire runs strong as he clicks his tongue to get your attention. 

You look up at him, and he licks his lips, exhaling a small puff of air before wrapping a hand around his base.

“This is the prettiest sight I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he praises, and you smile, heat rising to your cheeks once more. Lowering himself slightly, he cups your breasts, pressing them together and grunting, “I’m gonna fuck these one day. But now?” he says, releasing them and stroking your chin affectionately. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty mouth.”

“You ever suck someone off, baby?” he asks in a low voice, and you shake your head, making his eyes slide shut in bliss as he squeezes himself harder. “Fuck, I’m your first?”

“Yes,” you mumble shyly, and he coos affectionately at you, leaning down slightly to cup your chin with his free hand. 

“Remember when you were sucking that little lollipop the other day?” he asks, and you nod. “It’s kind of like that. Use your tongue, and the wetter it is, the better.”

You nod carefully and sit forward, letting your jaw drop open. 

“Fuck, baby. Tongue out for me?” he grunts, and you oblige, letting your tongue drop out of your mouth and lie flat for him. “So good, baby, just like that,” he encourages, leaning forward and guiding the head of his cock into your mouth. 

It feels strange but not unwelcome, and you suck gently at the head of his cock, more focused on using your tongue to explore the intrusion in your mouth. Based on the way Haechan’s breathing shallows and quickens, you suspect you’re doing a pretty good job.

“Baby, you’re so good at this,” he groans, his head tipping back before it snaps back up as he seemingly realizes he’d rather watch you. “Mouth looks so pretty wrapped around my cock like that.”

You can only manage a whimper as you boldly press forward, taking more of his length into your mouth, and he sucks in a sharp breath as you swirl your tongue around his length before tentatively flicking it over the slit in the head of his cock. He groans weakly and, emboldened, you do it again, Haechan letting out a delicious little grunt that spurs you to kick it up another notch.

You start to bob your head, doing your best to alternate between bobbing and licking, and Haechan shudders deeply, his hand releasing the rest of his cock and moving to cup the back of your head, fingers slipping into your hair. 

“Just like that—fuck—” he hisses, biting his lip as he watches you suck him off, skill increasing with every movement. When you push forward a bit too suddenly, eager to impress him, you choke briefly on his length, throat constricting slightly as your gag reflex activates slightly. “Oh, shit—”

Despite the slight ache to the back of your throat, you keep sucking, moving forward slower this time to allow your throat time to adjust to his size. When you massage the underside of his tip with your tongue, wet muscle gliding over the ridge of skin, he moans your name and it’s one of the most rewarding sounds you think you’ve ever heard.

“So good,” he pants as you bob your head up and down, and his length twitches in your mouth, giving you a hint that he’s close. “Gonna cum, baby.”

You move your head faster, sucking his length to the best of your ability with all the tricks you just learned, and his fingers grip your hair tightly as he spills into your mouth, his hips sluggishly thrusting forward as he shallowly fucks your mouth. 

“You,” he grunts, helping you to your feet so you’re face to face and kissing you deeply, “are a fast little learner.” His tongue slips between your lips and he explores your mouth eagerly, licking at your tongue and inner cheeks as you whimper, dizzied by the fervor of his kisses. 

“Baby,” he mumbles into the kiss, the urgency in his voice waking you up slightly, “I wanna eat you out. Can I taste you, princess?” When you nod, he grins brilliantly. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

He drops to his knees and slides his hands up from your ankles, hands slipping under your skirt to caress your hips. Pulling your underwear off, he drapes one of your legs over his shoulder, warm, slender fingers spreading apart your folds to get a better look at you.

When you whine softly in embarrassment, he shushes you gently, murmuring, “I just want to admire you for a second, baby, please?” He ducks his head under your skirt and sucks in a sharp breath when he’s met with the sight of your core, folds glistening with your arousal. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he breathes in awe, and before you can reply, his mouth is on you, upper lip resting just above your clit as his tongue strokes along your folds indulgently.

“Oh, my God,” you whisper, stumbling back slightly to lean against the wall behind you. Haechan moves with you fluidly, massaging your clit with his tongue as his fingers clutch your thighs, kneading the flesh with greedy, rough movements.

Tongue moving downwards towards your entrance, he prods the tip of it against your hole, chuckling when you jolt and squirm under his actions. “Don’t be shy, baby, I just want to taste.”

You nod even though he can’t see you, and he must be able to tell, because his tongue pushes forward, slowly breaching your entrance. You suck in a loud breath as his tongue delves further into you, occasionally coming out to slurp up the arousal dripping from your hole. 

“Tastes so good, baby,” he moans, his nose rubbing against your clit as he slowly starts to move his tongue in and out inside of you. The feeling is strange but amazing, a slightly ticklish element to the pleasure you’re receiving as he tongue-fucks you. 

Slurping loudly and moaning even louder, Haechan loses himself in your core, alternating between tongue-fucking you and licking at your folds and clit, leaving sloppy wet kisses that make your mind spin.

“Yeah, you like that?” he grunts, sucking at your clit hard before slipping his tongue out to stroke the sensitive underside of the sensitive bud. “You like when I kiss your pretty pussy? Hm? Do you like it when I make out with your sweet little pussy?”

“Yes,” you whimper, fingers clutching at his head over your skirt. When you get a good grip on him, you start to pull him closer, wanting more of his touch.

“Always so good—so shy and innocent.” Haechan murmurs, words slightly muffled from his oral ministrations on your pussy. “Now look at you; look how bad you’re being.”

“Haechan, please,” you breathe, and he turns his head to suck at your inner thighs, no doubt leaving a mark or two in his wake.

“Wanna see just how bad I can make you be.” he coos before surging forward to lap at your core eagerly, losing himself once more in the taste of you. “Fucking delicious, baby, you taste so good for me.”

He sucks and licks and kisses—even nibbles a bit—until your legs are shaking and your grip on his hair is iron-clad. You briefly consider the extremely compromising position someone might find you in if one of your friends walked down the hall and are surprised to find that not only do you not care, but there’s even a smidge of excitement when you think about getting caught like this, with Haechan’s head under your skirt and your breasts exposed.

“Haechan, I’m—I think I’m gonna—” you pant out, and he nods fervently, tongue slipping out of your entrance to flick your clit back and forth rapidly, a sharp whine slipping from you.

“Cum for me, baby—cum all on my tongue.” he urges, pulling you closer as he feverishly laps at your clit and entrance, shaking his head from side to side rapidly to run his tongue along your core back and forth. “That’s it, pretty girl, just let go.” he purrs, coaxing your climax out of you, and you do just that, letting the coil wound tight in your abdomen snap and letting the pleasure flood through your body.

“Haechan—” you whimper, and he hums soothingly as his tongue massages your clit once more, thoroughly milking your orgasm for all its worth. When the trembling of your legs has calmed down slightly and you’ve started to breathe normally once more, he pops his head out from under your skirt and winks up at you, chin and lips covered in your arousal.

“You’re addicting, baby; could eat your pussy for hours.” he says as he rises to his feet. A look downwards grants you the sight of his erection, fully hard once more, and you swallow thickly before looking up at him only to see that he’s already watching you with a small grin on his face. “Think you can handle one more?”

You’re nodding before you even realize it, and Haechan beams at you, drawing closer and closer until you’re flat against the wall. 

Nudging your legs apart, he settles between them and aligns his tip with your entrance, looking up from where your bodies meet to your face.

“Ready, baby?” he asks, and you nod carefully, eyes drifting back down from his face to where the thick head of his length presses against your core. “Good girl,” he breathes before pushing into you slowly, covering your mouth with his palm as you gasp out loudly. “Baby, they’ll catch us if you keep making noise like that.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, but it’s a muffled apology given that Haechan’s hand is still firmly clasped over your mouth. “So full,” you whisper in awe, and he chuckles lowly in your ear, lips pressing to the spot just behind your lobe. 

“Feel so tight around me, baby,” he grunts, his labored breathing in your ear telling you that he’s just as affected as you are. “So fucking good—”

“Haechan, move,” you whisper urgently as he bottoms out in you, and he obliges, pulling out to the tip and pushing into you again. A loud whoosh of air escapes your lungs, and he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, making you let out a loud whimper that would have been much louder had Haechan’s hand not muffled it.

“I’m starting to think you want to get caught.” Haechan murmurs with a smile on his lips as he kisses along your jaw and moves his hand to kiss you. 

“Mm—! No, I don’t—” you insist through your cries of pleasure, and he shakes his head with a taunting grin.

“Yes, you do,” he teases. “You want all our friends to come in this hallway and see me fucking you like the perfect little fuckdoll I always knew you could be.”

“Hae–chan—” you stutter, tiny noises leaving you with every powerful thrust of his hips. He’s so good, so big and thick, and he’s filling you up just right and hitting all the right places, and it becomes too much very quickly, an overwhelming amount of pleasure rushing through your body as he fucks into you. If it couldn’t get worse for you, he reaches between you two and his fingers find your clit, rubbing it in quick circles just like you showed him earlier. “Fuck—stop—too much—”

“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?” he coos, shifting himself to angle his hips into you just right so that every snap of his hips sends his tip fucking directly into your g-spot. 

You feel warmth behind your eyes, the telltale pricking at the corners that you know all too well, and the first tear drops before you can wipe it away, another tear following after that as the pleasure all but consumes you.

“Aw, baby, don’t cry, it feels good,” he consoles you, reaching up with his free hand to wipe your tears away. 

“So good—too good—” you babble, and he laughs at that, brows furrowing at the end as you clench around him.

“It can’t be too good, baby—you’re not making sense anymore.” he says with a playful lilt, and you whimper, more tears falling as you sniffle pathetically. “Fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry.”

“Wanna cum—Haechan, please let me cum—” you beg, and his movements stutter, Haechan looking at you in surprise.

“Yeah? Baby wants to cum?” he grunts, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as your walls flex around him again. “Fuck, I love when you do that—feels so good—cum for me, baby.” 

Not needing to be told twice, you promptly fall apart around him with a messy string of swears and “please” and utterances of Haechan’s name as your nails dig into his forearm, making him wince slightly. You’re sure you look a mess, eyes wet and glossy as tears stream down your cheeks, but Haechan’s drinking in your appearance like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Baby—I’m close—fuck—” Haechan grunts. “Gonna cum—where do you want it?”

“Want it inside of me, please—” you croak weakly, and he lets out a sound that’s a mix between a smug chuckle and a moan.

“Can’t believe you were skittish as a mouse just the other day, and now you’re begging for my cum. Want me to fill you up?” he pants, hips driving into yours with reckless abandon. 

“Please—” you whimper, and he swears under his breath.

“Fuck—take it all, baby,” he urges, hips pressing into yours as he buries himself in you and empties his load. “It’s all for you,” he says breathlessly as his length twitches inside of you.

He stays inside of you for a moment, both of you attempting to catch your breath, before he slowly pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you fix your skirt back into place. To your confusion, he hooks his fingers in your underwear, pulling the thin, arousal-soaked fabric down and off your legs. 

“Um…” you start, and Haechan looks over at you, brows raised expectantly. “Those are mine,” you state, pointing at the fabric in his fist.

“And now,” he hums, bringing them to his face and inhaling deeply, eyes sliding shut in bliss just in time to miss your scandalized expression. “They’re mine. C’mon; you should use the bathroom.”

He loops his fingers around yours, other hand stuffing your underwear in his back pocket as he leads you to the bathroom.

When the door closes behind you, you sit down on the toilet with slightly shaky legs, taking a moment to think about everything that just occurred. 

You would have never in a million years thought that you’d have sex with Haechan, let alone in the hallway—let alone, with your friends in the very next room. However, as you think over the events that just transpired, your body is filled with a warm thrum of satisfaction, and you can’t seem to find an ounce of regret. 

“Girl, where the hell were you?!” Karina exclaims, fussing over you as soon as you reappear in the living room. “We’ve been texting and calling for ages!”

“Oh,” you mumble, pulling your phone from the little pocket in your skirt. “It’s been on Do Not Disturb,” you explain sheepishly, and Karina rolls her eyes hard.

“Don’t do that again. You had us worried sick. What were you even doing for so long?”

“Um… well, Haechan and I,” you start, casting a side glance to the couch where Haechan sits and hesitating slightly when you see that he’s watching you intently, not an ounce of shame in his expression. “We hooked up.” you say finally, straightening your back slightly and standing up taller.

Yeri’s jaw drops. “About damn time.” she remarks, and you narrow your eyes at her.

“Hush, you.” you huff, looking over at where Haechan sits once more. He locks eyes with you and grins, patting the empty spot next to him and wiggling his eyebrows playfully, and you smile, looking away from him to address your bewildered friends. “I’ll explain everything later—”

“Yeah, yeah, just go, girl.” Karina chuckles. “He’s waiting,” she sing-songs, and you elbow her slightly before shooting them a bright smile and a small wave and making your way to sit next to Haechan. 

When you sit down, Haechan drapes his arm around you on the back of the couch, and you can feel the heat creeping to your cheeks.

“So,” he says carefully, taking a hit of his pen and exhaling slowly before he continues, “I know this is a little backwards of me, but… do you wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?”

“I’d like that,” you reply with a bashful smile, and he grins, relieved.

“Great. Now in the meantime,” he says, looking pointedly towards the hallway before looking back at you expectantly, “I have a nice ass TV, snacks, and a strong ass edible with your name on it in my room. You down?”

You don’t even hesitate. “I’m down.” you agree, smile widening, and he nods, satisfied. He stands from the couch and offers you his hand, which you take as he pulls you to your feet.

As you trail after him towards his room, fingers still locked with his, you can’t help but notice the familiar peek of fabric sticking out of his back pocket, and your eyes widen in alarm.

“Haechan!” you whisper loudly, and he looks back at you with raised brows. “My, um, underwear is sticking out of your pocket.”

“So?” he answers simply, and you pause, brain buffering for a moment.

“So?”

“Yeah. No one knows it’s your underwear but you and me,” he points out as you reach his bedroom door. He swings it open and gestures for you to enter first, head dipping down to your ear as you pass by. “So it’s our little secret.”

“Oh,” you mumble, thinking it over. “Okay.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says encouragingly, guiding you to his bed and gesturing for you to sit down. “Now, what do you want to watch?”

“Uh, we can watch Family Guy,” you suggest, and he looks at you, pleasant surprise written on his handsome features, before he nods and picks up the TV remote.

“Good choice,” he praises, sitting down beside you against the headboard of his bed. “Perfect show to play in the background while we make out.”

“Oh—” you stammer, blinking in surprise, and he snorts, eyes fond as he scans your bashful demeanor.

“I’m kidding.” he assures you, and you can’t help but frown slightly. Unfortunately for you, this doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, and he chuckles. “You wanted to make out, didn’t you?”

“A little bit,” you mumble, and he grins, leaning in closer to you.

You didn’t seem too keen on sharing a stage with any of them, your eyes raking over nimble fingers and carefully shaped nails, bulging biceps and deliciously thick thighs almost bursting through bedazzled tights. You seemingly didn’t feel anything for the people you dismissed with a wave of your pen, leaving behind a trio of men – a trio that includes him.  

And he kind of likes the way indifference floats off you. It’s like you’re just like him.  

One in blue (27), one in white (82) and one in black, him.  

Number 1. The first to arrive, early that Tuesday morning.  

“We won’t get an understudy if you’re this picky, sweetheart.”  

He can hear the injured trapezist soft laughter from behind you, something rich in it settling into his bones – he thinks his name is Infinite, he’d seen him on a poster on Canal and Mercer. You let a smirk tug at the corner of your lips as a woman next to him clears her throat, before walking backwards towards them; the tassels of your leotard swinging with your every move. You set your clipboard down on the chair you’d been sitting on when all the auditionees had filed in, before folding your hands behind your back and giving them an award-winning smile; all teeth and ruby red lipstick.  

“Welcome to the Skyline Soirée.” You speak confidently, your eyes darting to the man in blue rolling his. Your smile drops to a much gentler one, a hint of cynicism in the back of your eyes, “you can go, 27.”  

“Are you serious?”   “Out.”  

“She’s ruthless.” He hears another man speak, joining the pair behind you; the loud, unmistakable crunch of an apple sounding in the ring. You roll your eyes, setting your shoulders back before looking at him and the other man in front of you. You tilt your head at them, and it would’ve been cute if there wasn’t that emptiness filling the back of your eyes.  

It makes him a little giddy.  

“As I was saying, welcome to the Skyline Soirée. Our circus has been the longest standing trapeze-centered circus in Manhattan since 1902, and been passed down through four generations. Much like there is history to trapeze, there is history to our circus. Our first ringmaster was Park Hyoseop, who built this empire centered around trapeze. He was succeeded by Park Minhyuk, and Park Hyunjin. Finally, we’ve been handed over to our very first female ringmaster, Park Jihyo.”  

Jihyo raises her coffee cup with a small smile on her lips, and he gives her a curt nod back before returning his attention to you. You’re pacing in front of them, your hair cascading down your back before you sharply turn to a stop.  

“I will preface this audition with the fact that you will not be the star of the show. You are merely an accessory, a background character...”  

You point at a poster on one of the circus pillars, your smiling face plastered on it with a sparkly leotard in candy apple red. His eyes scan the poster, taking in the way the color really brought out your eyes – before you point to another across the room. Still you, posed perfectly in your seemingly trusty gold hoop, in a white leotard with angel wings: the face of the Skyline Soirée.  

The star of the Skyline Soirée.  

Being in your presence made his skin prickle.  

“Should you pass this audition, you will become a temporary trapeze artist with the Skyline Soirée for the next eight weeks. After eight weeks, we will revisit your contract with us, as we expect Minghao to be performance ready by then.” You set your shoulders back again, your dark green leotard twinkling in the low light as you point at the injured trapezist. “Should we like you, you could become one of eight trapeze artists and continue within our circus as a permanent member of the team. If you get that opportunity, I recommend you stay in my good graces.”  

He feels his teeth ache at your demand for respect.  

He hears the wheels that hold the sandbags start turning, and he glances over your shoulder to see the apple-eating man starting to move things around. You smile inwardly, before turning back to the men as he stares at you with wide eyes. There’s a tick in your brow as you make eye contact with him, trailing your gaze down his frame before turning on your heel.  

His cheeks feel hot as you walk away.  

“I will be performing a basic routine once, so pay attention. You’ll have to recreate this, and it’s really quite simple. Couple spins, couple suspensions...if you know what you’re doing, you’ll get it done.” You shrug, seemingly disinterested in any excuses as you walk backwards. He and No.82 clear the ring out; the sound of the spotlights being clunked on making you visibly excited. You grab the thick rope in one hand, giving it a hard yank as Middle of The Night by Elley Duhé starts to play throughout the arena. You seemingly can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips; likely habit from over a decade of performances as you’re pulled up by the rope.  

Of course, he knows you’ve been with the Skyline Soirée for twenty-one years. He knows all about you and your gold hoop. He does his research, what kind of man would he be if he didn’t?  

He watches calmly as your body contorts around the rope, wrapping your ankle in the tied noose as you’re swung around the arena. The momentum blows your hair back as you spin in tight circles, your eyes trained for what he assumes is the familiar gleam of your gold hoop as it is swung your way by the quick-footed man tossing it to you. You grab it, twisting your body into the curve of the swing, flipping in and out of it with a grace only mastered by years of dedication. He’s sure you can feel the eyes on you all around the arena, he’s sure you feel at home as you grab yet another rope being swung at you – wrapping it around your thighs with ease and fully flipping yourself upside down. You narrowly miss him, your fingertips just barely grazing the sequins of his leotard as you swing past him.  

You seem to feel free, as you grab another hoop being thrown at you, and he can practically feel the sting of the rope burning into your bare thigh as you flip yourself onto the cool metal. You fold your legs around the hoop; the metal tucked behind your knees and the curve of your ribcage almost identical to that of the hoop as you spin in tight circles to the middle of the ring. The song comes to an end as you’re suspended a few feet above the ground, your smile dropping as you position yourself to be pulled off the hoop by the same man; strong hands gingerly pulling you off the hoop.  

He’d overheard a few of the other auditionees talk about that. That you were a princess to this circus, that Jihyo once said you were too valuable to jump down from any distance. One wrong move meant metatarsal fractures, sprained ankles, even dislocated knees.  

It wasn’t worth the risk.  

You thank him softly, the gleam in his eyes making your shoulders soften as his fingers squeeze you gently before he slips away.  

He feels his stomach tighten, his body moving before his mind as he brings his hands together in a soft clap; your brows raising as you look over at him, his head nodding curtly. More clapping fills the room from your teammates, and you look flustered as you clear your throat, hearing snickering from Minghao’s general direction before he stops and tucks his hands behind his back.  

You turn to face him and the other auditionee.  

“Easy, right? Who wants to go first?” You smile brightly, resting your hands on your hips as the man in white winces.  

“I think I’ll have to forfeit. I was told this would be flying trapeze, not static. I apologize for wasting your time.” He speaks carefully, and your eyes widen slightly as he picks up his bag and gives a quick bow. You don’t even get a chance to speak before he’s out the double flaps, where a few children peer in to get a glimpse of the auditions. You wave, and they squeal lightly before sprinting away.  

“They must really like you around these parts,” he says gently, moving to fold his hands in front of him. You tilt your head, hearing the spin of metal on metal as the rope is thrown to you from behind.   

“Let’s see if we like you, huh?” You hold it out to him, and he only smiles softly; taking the rope gingerly before stepping carefully into the ring. He steps to where you started, give or take an inch – and he hears the man who helped you get down rustle around before the music starts again. With a quick thwip of his wrist, he’s in the air – and you move back to watch him glide expertly through the air.  

He catches the man’s throws with a finesse that would make anyone’s skin litter with goosebumps, curling through your trusty hoop with poise. He can feel the bated breath surrounded him as he nails each of your twists, your figure moving backwards to follow him around the arena before your thigh bumps Minghao’s arm. His hand grabs it, squeezing the plush flesh as you furrow your brows in concentration.  

He swings past you smoothly, his hand gracing your cheek ever so slightly; your eyes averting as he shoots you a wink. He notes the quick scowl in your face, the tick in your jaw as you shift your weight as he splays himself across the second hoop. He feels the heat of your gaze trail the curve of his hip, tonguing your cheek as the scattered sequins of his leotard catch the low light.  

He’s suspended above the ground just as you were, but he flips out of the hoop and faces Jihyo, Minghao, an openly impressed unnamed man, and you.  

“Thank you for the opportunity.” He speaks softly, demurely, even; bending at the waist carefully as his chest heaves up and down in steady breaths. He catches the way a smile tugs at the corner of Jihyo’s lips, Minghao’s hidden by his hand yielding a lit cigarette. You circle him like a dog does before lunging in for a bite, raking your eyes over him as you observe the elegance in his posture.  

“Good shoulders,” you murmur, clicking your tongue three times as you stand in front of him. You splay your hands on your hips, before glimpsing over your shoulder; his eyes following the soft slope of your neck. Minghao gives you a smirk, a shrug of one shoulder as you look back, your eyes catching the sliver of the thin gold chain beneath his leotard. You push his shoulder suddenly, watching his sturdy form as he hardly wobbles.  

Your lips curl into an oddly impressed frown, and you circle him again – pushing the center of his back with the tips of your fingers, humming as he doesn’t budge. You gently nudge the back of his knee with your foot, smirking inwardly as he glimpses over his shoulder at you with an amused look playing in his eyes. You shrug, folding your hands behind your back with a sly smile as you carefully slide over to Minghao.  

“You like him?” You ask, loud enough for him to hear as you lean against the chair. Minghao takes a quick drag of his cigarette, his arm wrapping loosely around your waist as he blows the smoke away from your face. He watches Minghao’s fingers dig into your hip gently, annoyance settling in the pit of his stomach.  

“Good posture, firm shoulders. Sturdy...sexy.” Minghao shrugs, making you nod as you slither over to Jihyo. The ringmaster rolls her eyes with a smile as you wrap your arms around her neck and smush your cheek to hers as he folds his hands in front of himself. The unnamed man from before bumps his hip to yours, planting a quick kiss to your hairline.  

“I second the decision.” Jihyo shrugs, “he seems...able. Great physique, we’ll do a physical to make sure he’s in good health.”  

“It’s up to you, though, babe. It’s your domain, after all.” Minghao clears his throat. You tilt your head as you meet his eyes across the ring, patting Jihyo’s shoulder as you run your tongue over your teeth.  

“You got a name, hotshot?” You ask, leaning your forearms on the back of what was originally your chair – one that now the unnamed man occupies. Your fingers brush his bare shoulders, pinching the skin playfully as he tugs his sleeves over them with a pout.  

“Junhui. Wen Junhui.”   “Where are you from, Wen Junhui?”  

“Boston, Mass.” He states clearly, and he remains stoic as he notices the way you all stiffen, a chill running through your bodies simultaneously.  

The Boston Extravaganza had been dismantled from the roots just three weeks prior – the ringleader, Kang Minseok, murdered after his first Sunday in the spot. The investigation is pending, but he’s sure it’ll close. 

Just like all the others. 

Performers had fled into the depths of Manhattan, seeking refuge from their now broken home. To his knowledge, Jihyo had been gracious enough to take in a few performers, but nothing too major. She’d made calls all over, sending people all around the Northeast with the promise of work – should they arrive safely.   

If he was anyone else, he would agree that it is painful – to see fellow performers lose their touch as they navigated the streets of your city in search of work. Performers retired the sparkling leotards for brown aprons, espresso machines and thumbing through tip jars for their share of the feed.  

He knew that Jihyo hadn’t intended to take in another trapeze artist, he’d been floating around the circus long enough to know exactly what the weaknesses were – though it seemed Jihyo ran quite a strong ship. Minghao, as if right on Junhui’s schedule, broke his foot last weekend – falling from the hoop at four feet of suspension, and you’d been left to swing through your carefully practiced routine alone. Junhui had watched every performance from the stands, hidden behind cheering families and bored teenagers; chewing on salted caramel taffy and taking notes in his phone.  

Jihyo had enough with what she called her Lucky 7...which was pioneered by you.  

The brightest star of them all: the final performance to seal the night. The one who led the ending bow and wore hand-bedazzled leotards made by Jihyo. You stood in the middle of the performers; your shoulders set back in confidence as you thanked the city of New York for joining you for yet another glorious performance.  

He’d heard Jihyo joke that her ownership of the Skyline Soirée was just for show.  

Of course, it wasn’t. He’d heard a lot about her in particular – she was kind, smart, confident. A creative businesswoman who did not let anything get between the success of her and her circus. She saw potential in everything and everyone, never once giving up in the face of adversity – even when one by one, circuses across the country were destroyed from their sturdy foundations.  

“I was part of the–”   “We know.”  

Jihyo nods carefully, and his eyes catch your hand running through your hair as you trill your lips. You nudge the unnamed man, “Mingyu, where’s my clipboard?”  

Mingyu.  

“Well, welcome to the team. Eight weeks, Wen. Then we’ll see if we keep you on board. Sounds good?” Mingyu raises a brow, pulling the clipboard from under his meaty thigh and flipping the page to the contract that would bound Junhui to the Skyline Soirée for two months.   

“We have three days of practice, and four performance nights. No breaks aside from the nine hours of sleep we’ve allotted in the schedule. It’s important that we are well rested.” You say pointedly, before grabbing the clipboard and clicking the sparkly pink pen. You wave him over with a flair of disinterest, your eyes bored as he makes his way over and takes the pen from your fingers. Jihyo stands, taking the clipboard and gesturing around.  

“Sign here, and here. Initial here, here, here and here. You’ll have to consent to a physical examination over on Canal and Mercer with Dr. Hong and Dr. Yoon, they're our primary care providers for the Skyline Soirée. They’ll take good care of you.” She nods as Junhui takes the clipboard gingerly, scribbling his life away. “You will also have to meet all the other members of our team, but you report to Y/N and Mingyu every morning. They’re your team directors. Think of it like we’re corporate and they’re your managers.”  

Mingyu disappears into the shadows of the arena, and Jihyo talks shop for what feels like an hour – but Junhui’s eyes drift to you and Minghao. You seem relatively close; Minghao’s hand nestled on your upper thigh, fingers kneading the flesh gently as you whisper amongst yourselves. You talk with your hands a lot, gesticulating at the open air and tracing shapes that Minghao understands seamlessly; your brows furrowing as you repeatedly hit the side of your hand to your palm, pointing at something Junhui can’t see at the top of the circus arena.  

“...And Y/N will introduce you to everyone. We’ll get you a handbook and a physical appointment before Wednesday.” Jihyo nods, Mingyu walking forward with a thin book; the circus name plastered across the front with a picture of the main cast on the cover. He holds it out to Junhui, and only then does he notice the pink bookmark already sticking out from the middle of it.  

“You’ll have to go over this before Wednesday, because you have more documents to sign. Y/N will introduce you to everyone and show you to your trailer. Welcome to the Skyline Soirée, Junhui.” Jihyo holds her hand out, and Junhui smiles brightly, taking her hand gingerly and giving it a firm shake. She smiles in return, bowing slightly before dropping her hand, “now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got things to get back to. Make yourself at home.”  

“I will, thank you.”  

Mingyu watches Jihyo walk away with his arms crossed, and you and Minghao do the same. There’s a blanket of silence that falls over the four of you, before Minghao taps the ash off his cigarette, taking a final drag before putting it out on the ashtray on his thigh.   

“So,” he blows the smoke out, making you scrunch your nose as you wave it away from your face. “You’re from Boston?”  

“Not technically, but that’s where I came from.” Junhui shrugs, mindlessly rifling the pages of the handbook. “I was part of that circus the longest, so I guess I just got used to saying that.”  

“Where are you from originally?” Mingyu asks next to him, making Junhui’s lip tug up into a lopsided smile that screams pity.  

“Washington.”  

You stiffen visibly but clear your throat as Minghao glances up at you with a look of concern on his features. You give him a pained smile, before clasping your hands in front of you.  

“I think it’s time we introduce Junhui to the rest of our cast, hm? Mingyu, Minghao?” Your eyes and voice are pointed in a way that you don’t want Junhui to understand, but he rolls his eyes as he folds his hands behind his back. “Come, you’ll want to meet everyone before we take you to your trailer.”  

“Ah, ah! Jihyo said you have to introduce and take him home. There was no we in that.” Minghao retorts next to you, before flashing a mischievous smile at Junhui, “enjoy your stay, Junhui. I’m glad to see someone as skilled as you taking my place for the time being.”  

“I hope you feel better soon, Minghao.” He nods gently, before Mingyu makes his way over and helps the man up, the crutches leaning against one of the pillars being picked up in one hand as he practically throws Minghao over his back. Both men give him a quick wave and a smile, before snickering to themselves as you huff, your hands curling into fists at your side as Junhui takes long, silent strides to settle at your side.  

You seem startled as you glance over and see him next to you, your eyes flashing with a veil of disinterest before you tongue your cheek.  

“Hi.” He says softly, before holding his hand out. You glance down at it, “I don’t shake hands. You already know who I am.”  

“Do I?” He tilts his head, dropping his hand to his side before you press your red lips into a thin line. “It’s nice to meet you.”  

“Pleasure.” You cross your arms on your chest, “first things first, we are not friends.”  

“I didn’t assume we would be,” Junhui smiles, “but I get you. Strictly business.”  

You let your eyes scan him shamelessly, before turning your nose up and clicking your tongue.  

“Minghao is my long-term partner, but I’ve done trapeze with everyone on the Lucky 7. You’ll have to show that you can work well with them before we can even consider you to be a part of the team permanently.” Your voice is level, but you sound bored as you raise a brow at him, “but if you don’t get along with me, it won’t happen for you, anyway. What I say goes.”  

You don’t give him a chance to respond, opting to walk away. He follows silently, watching you carefully step over the edge of the ring and duck behind the curtains. He’s met with a mess of people prepping – some people are stretching, others are being laced up into costumes, Jihyo is carefully holding three pins in her lip as she holds a tape measure to a girl’s waist. No one cares to look up as you make your way through – their eyes glued to their own projects as you stop in front of a frosted glass door, your knuckles rapping on the frame in a memorized pattern.  

The door opens, a bright-eyed man smiling almost instantly as he sees you.  

“Y/N!” His plump cheeks almost hide his eyes entirely as he throws his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace. You’re slightly stiff before your arms wrap around his waist, the man not noticing Junhui standing behind you until you clear your throat.  

“Hosh, we’ve got company.” Your voice is muffled against his shirt, and the man’s smile drops before his eyes find Junhui. He waves lightly, the man straightening and letting you go as he tilts his head.  

“Minghao’s replacement?”   “He has a name, Hoshi.”  

You roll your eyes, pushing past the man. Junhui holds his hand out instinctively, the man taking it firmly as a whistle is heard in the room.  

“Junhui. From Boston.”   “...Hoshi. Jersey City.”  

“Nice to meet you, Hoshi. Is that a stage name?” Junhui asks as Hoshi drops his hand gingerly, earning a shrug.  

“No one goes by names here, really. It’s all stage presence unless you’re Y/N. She’s who she is in and out of the ring.” He flips a sign next to the door to say In Session before moving to the side to let Junhui into the room. He ducks inside, Hoshi following and closing the door as what seems like a barre dance studio comes into view. The walls are lined with mirrors, with a trio of men scattered across the room. You’re standing at the far-right corner, aggressively moving through a rack of sparkling leotards and skirts. There is a desk covered in first aid supplies, a half-filled kit sprawled open, and a roll of dressing strewn everywhere.   

Minghao sits in the desk chair, with Mingyu carefully wrapping his foot as the smell of Tiger Balm fills the room.   

Your shoulders are tense as you thumb at the sleeve of an orange leotard, your fingers visible through a torn hole as you scowl. You turn on your heel, clearing your throat and gathering the attention of everyone. The men seemingly scramble to stand in a line; their shoulders taught and backs straight as you step in front of them; Hoshi and Mingyu joining the lineup without a second thought. Junhui watches as you settle against the bar, crossing your arms on your chest.  

“Gentlemen, we’ve got a new addition to our team.” You speak clearly, but their eyes don’t avert to Junhui as you click your tongue. “Wen Junhui from Boston. He will be taking Minghao’s place for the next eight weeks, should he pass his physical exam. You are all to remain attentive in your routines, and I will be taking someone on as an understudy should Junhui or I get injured or fail to perform up to the Skyline standards. I expect you all to be on your best behavior, and I know you won’t disappoint me. Do I make myself clear?”  

“Yes, ma’am.” The men sound off almost robotically, before your shoulders relax slightly.   

“You will all have time to introduce yourselves later, but this is just something quick to get it out of the way. I’m going to show Junhui to his trailer, and I expect you all to have picked out lunch by the time I get back.” You run a hand over your face lightly, before pointing directly at Hoshi, “no more disco fries. You’ll get sick like you did last time and then I can’t have you understudy because Jihyo will make you sit out.”  

“You’re such a party pooper.” Hoshi pouts, making you snicker inwardly before you call a break with a clap of your hands. The men huddle together; several phones being pulled out as Junhui watches you push off the barre. You don’t bother looking at him, making your way to the door with a wave of your hand for him to follow you. He does just that, opening the door for you and earning a purse of your lips as you slip out.  

“You sure run this team like the Navy.” He comments gently; that gets him a sliver of a smile as you shake your head.  

“No, I don’t. They just know what they need to do.” You reply, “they’ll introduce themselves to you during lunch. Or after, or whatever. It’s up to them; they don’t owe you anything.”  

Junhui doesn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on the sway of your leotard tassels. Your body is fluid, no tension carried anywhere but you’ve seemed to have trained yourself to keep it together. Like you’ve got your own demons, several skeletons in your own closet – but none strong enough or big enough to show the effects of them on your face. You carry yourself with your shoulders set back, your chin tilted up; poised, confident, brave.  

Strong.  

You stop in front of a door, the blaring red sign above it reads EXIT.   

“You’ll get a keycard that lets you in and out of the building. Hansol should get it to you before sundown, but since Jihyo stuck you with me for the time being, we’ll use mine. You only get one before Hansol makes you fork over ten bucks, so most of us just leave it hanging here.” You gesture at the wall, keycards hanging from a hook on different colored lanyards. You grab the first one off the hook, flipping it over to see the name Dahyun in blue permanent marker, “if you have any technical problems, you go to Hansol. If you have any wardrobe problems, you go to Hansol.”  

“I assume I’ll meet Hansol soon, right?” He watches you nod as you push the door open, and dozens of trailers come into view. They are sectioned off behind chain fences, seemingly in teams – Lucky 7, Clown Alley, Arson Avenue, Staffing Street.  

“Arson Avenue?”   “It’s for the fire artists. They’re further back because they practice outside, and we can’t let anything catch on fire.”  

You push the gate open on the Lucky 7 set, the trailers lining the fence with four on each side, with a bigger one lining the back of the lot. You beeline for it, typing the code into the door before glancing over your shoulder.  

“Wait here. I have to get your keys.”   “Is this—”   “This is my trailer.”  

You say nothing else, slipping inside the pink door and disappearing inside. Junhui rocks on his heels, trilling his lips as he looks around. Everyone’s names are plastered on their trailers and decorated accordingly, it seemed; Hoshi, DK, Mingyu, Seungkwan, Infinite, Dino. There is one empty trailer next to yours, stark white and plain as opposed to the plethora of colors around the sector.  

“Okay, found them.” You slink back out of your trailer, holding a set of keys in your hand. “You’ll have keys for the next eight weeks, and we’ll get someone out here to give you a keypad if you end up signing on permanently. In the meantime, don’t lose these; Jihyo hates the locksmith, he’s difficult.”  

You roll your eyes but make your way over to the empty trailer. His eyes catch the gold foil stars on the sides of your white trapeze boots in the high noon sun, your leotard twinkling in the light as you yank the door to the trailer open. You feel around the side for the light switch, flicking it on before beckoning him forward.  

“I know that the Boston Extravaganza had you set up in dorms, but Jihyo really wanted us to be more like a community rather that roommates. Roommates can have tension, which can cause issues in the ring and then we’re all messed up. So, this will be yours for the time being.” You nod curtly, “you’ve got a kitchenette, closet, bathroom, shower. The couch is a futon, but if you’re here longer, you can get a bigger trailer, and we’ll switch it out with a bed. Of course, no one stays all that long, so...good luck.”   

You lack a bit of empathy as he steps inside, “we’ll arrange Seungcheol or Jaebeom to give you a lift back to your hotel room so you can get your belongings. We run a strict schedule around here, so lights out by ten. You don’t have to sleep, that’s your prerogative. We’re up by six in the morning, breakfast at seven and arena by seven-thirty. Lunch is at one, dinner is at six-thirty, and we have cast-wide dinners once a week. Any questions?”  

You’re apathetic as you blink at him, eyes tired as your arms cross against your chest. He tilts his head at you, before holding his hand out. Your brows furrow, “I don’t shake hands.”  

“My keys, sweetheart.”  

If you’re embarrassed, you’re good at masking it – shrugging your shoulders before holding his keys out to him by the ring. He takes them gently, spinning them on his fingertip before clasping his hand around them.  

“How long have you been with the circus?”   “Since I was six.”   “Do you like it?”  

“It’s everything to me.” You say plainly, “it’s all I know. Do you have any questions about this? Because I’d like to get back for lunch.”  

“You’re not very welcoming, are you?” He raises a brow, and you stiffen slightly; tonguing your lower lip before sighing.  

“I don’t warm up to newcomers. I know better, and so should you. Now, if you don’t have questions, I’d like to get a move on.” You give him a pointed look, making a show of exiting the trailer as he sets the handbook down on his counter. He watches as you inch away from the trailer, flipping the page to the pink bookmark.  

Across the top of the page, in bold Times New Roman is exactly what he thought would be there.  

ANTI-FRATERNIZATION POLICY.  

“Bingo.” He mutters to himself, running his eyes over the page quickly before tossing the entire book across the trailer onto the futon. He’d look over it later; tucking his keys into his palm before slipping back out. You’re halfway across the lot, and he moves like molasses before smirking at himself when you look over your shoulder with an annoyed expression.  

“Junhui! Move it!”   “I’m coming, I’m coming.”  

 Lunch moved fast. The team practically inhales their food, and you perched on the edge of the desk and shared chips with Minghao; shy smiles and his fingers tracing shapes into your bare thighs. He gets introduced to everyone and quickly learns that yes, while stage names were mostly used – he could quickly get used to calling everyone by their real names. DK was Seokmin, Dino was Chan and Hoshi was in fact, Soonyoung.   

He also quickly learns that not everyone on the trapeze team is from New York and New Jersey aside from Soonyoung, Minghao from Syracuse and Seungkwan, who is from Hoboken – Seokmin is from Chicago, Mingyu is from Kapolei, and Chan is from Atlanta.   

You’re from Manhattan, born and raised. You grew up here with Jihyo, Minghao and Hansol, lost everyone and won everything back almost immediately. He learns just that, no context – in hushed whispers, from Hoshi.  

“She’s sweet,” he had said, shoveling the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. “She just doesn’t trust new people. Let her warm up to you, it’ll happen eventually.”  

You made no effort to do so for the remainder of the day.   

Junhui was introduced to both Jaebeom and Seungcheol right after lunch, because Jihyo had called them during lunch to inform them that Junhui had been signed on. The pair drove him to his hotel to help him gather his things before letting him know he had an appointment the next day with Dr. Yoon – before driving him back and helping him get settled in the trailer.  

“How’d you get on with Y/N? Was she nice?” Seungcheol asked gently, and Jaebeom had a seemingly knowing look in his eyes as he smirked inwardly. When Junhui answered unsurely, they shared a pointed glance before Jaebeom spoke up.  

“She’s a bit cold right off the bat, but she’ll get better. She just doesn’t know you yet.”   

It seemed as though everyone tried vouching for you to comfort him – like it wasn’t his fault that you were standoffish, but he’d certainly be subjected to your behavior because he had no choice. You were the star, and you were going to stay the star; your behavior was to be tolerated, you were to be respected and you were held in high regard no matter his opinions about your rightfully earned position, his opinions about the cast that enabled your behavior, or his opinions about you.  

He would have to tolerate it, to tolerate you – whether he liked it or not.  

Junhui can’t imagine a mystery more enticing.  

He spent the rest of the night in his trailer. He showered, the water pressure shittier than it had been in Boston but he was no one to complain. He draped himself across the futon, legs covered in black sweatpants and donning his dark green zip-up – and he cracked open the Skyline Soirée Cast Member Handbook right back to the pink bookmark.  

“Anti-fraternization policy,” he reads, rolling his eyes with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “What, can’t bang the star of the show?”  

Apparently, it’s just that: he literally can’t – it’s right there in black and white.  

The Skyline Soirée prohibits the ideation, intention or execution of any romantic advances or relationships between employees. This includes staff members, ringmasters and performers; should employees engage each other in romantic or flirtatious advances, it is heavily recommended that both (if not multiple) parties keep their relationship at work strictly professional. This policy has been implemented since November 19th of 1989, during the second generation of the Skyline Soirée legacy.  

Beneath the paragraph is your name.  

LUCKY STAR CLAUSE – ANTI-FRATERNIZATION POLICY, SUBSECTION B-2.  

An edit has been made to the original 1989 anti-fraternization policy following the Midnight Menagerie murders. Whoever is considered the star of the show (‘Lucky Star’) is not to be romantically linked with anyone involved in the cast, staff or outsourced providers. If said relationships are established, Lucky Star contracts with the Skyline Soirée are to be ceased immediately. This clause has been implemented since May 26th, 2015, in order to protect the Lucky Stars of the Skyline Soirée – of whom since have only been Sidney Kim (1997-2013, b. 1982) and Y/N Lee (2013-present, b. 1997.) This clause to be updated every time a ‘Lucky Star’ is voted into rotation.  

“Midnight Menagerie murders...” he murmurs to himself, running a hand through his damp hair. “What does a romantic relationship have to do with any of that?”  

He scoffs, turning the page with a tick in his jaw – only to see an introductory journal-like page. There is a smiling portrait of you in the top right corner that looks recent; your eyes bright and your red-lipped smile wide as you looked into the camera like you were absolutely enamored. There are more photos – you in 2002, holding onto a little girl that looks a lot like Jihyo. You in 2009, sat in front of a birthday cake. You, in 2015 – your high school senior photos taken inside the circus arena, wearing your graduation cap and gown while perched on your hoop and dressed in a pink mock neck leotard with matching aerial boots that had gold glitter stars on either side.  

You in 2019, holding three silver trophies and a lopsided crown atop your mussed hair – captioned Jules Léotard Trapeze ‘19 Champion, Y/N Lee.  

LUCKY STAR – Y/N LEE.   

"If you’re reading this, you’ve joined the Skyline Soiree. I hope you’ve received a warm welcome,” Junhui reads aloud, before blowing air out of the corner of his mouth. “I wouldn’t say warm, but it was certainly something.”   

He trills his lips lightly, resting his cheek on his knuckles as he reads across the page. You joined the circus at six years old, with Jihyo’s family taking you in after your parents were murdered on Christmas Day in 2001; your mother a reporter for the Garden City News, your father a detective for the NYPD. You’d long loved the circus, hence probably why you got the starring role – and something about it made Junhui’s chest hurt.   

He felt a few tears sting his eyes as he kept reading your story; how you dedicated your entire life to the circus and skipped out on graduation because it was a Saturday evening, and you were set to perform with Minghao. You talked about how you learned to drive in a 1975 Vista Cruiser in Rochester one summer, and how Halloween being your favorite holiday. Summer is your favorite season, your favorite color is green, and you talk about how much Jihyo loved celebrating your birthday.  

And you never mentioned Christmas again.  

“I hope you love the Skyline Soirée as much as I do. Maybe we’ll perform together! This is from 2019 Y/N, so if you’re reading this again: maybe you’ll win another JLT! Skyline Stars, we're brighter together!”  

Junhui sighs, clicking his tongue before turning the page once more. A page full of Jihyo, followed by pages full of the rest of the cast and crew: Hoshi, Tzuyu, Mingyu...  

Minghao.  

“Boyfriend. Against the Lucky Star Clause...that’s a Lucky Star boyfriend. Cute.” He mutters, sucking his teeth before reading across the page. Nothing catches his eye much – trapeze artist since the age of sixteen and joined Skyline a year before you became the star of the show. He spent his childhood split between Syracuse and Manhattan, spending the summers in upstate. He mentions you twice – how you helped him learn, and how honored he was to be your right hand.  

The yearbook of sorts ends with Jihyo. She talks about the legacy of the Skyline Soirée and how much pressure it is to be the head of it all – but she mentions you, and how easy you make being the star look. How easily you soar through the air and how much hope it gives her – how much hope you give the entire cast.  

Junhui wonders if Jihyo really is the Ringmaster she says she is.  

He tosses the handbook to the side, his eyes catching the clock hanging above the kitchenette. 8:45 PM.  

“Lights out by ten...I have time.” He pushes himself off the futon, grabbing his cap off the dinner table – trading it for his phone, which he powers off and slides onto the hardwood. He tucks his hair under the cap, taking his keys and flicking all the lights off with the switch by the door. He cracks it open, hearing a laugh ring through the air as he slips out and locks it behind him. He sees the twinkle of your leotard in the moonlight, your face lit by Minghao holding a lighter to the end of a cigarette between your lips. Your hair is tied up, the slope of your neck speckled with glitter from your outfit.  

You’re sitting on the steps of Minghao’s trailer, and you’re both seemingly trying to ignore the ruckus coming from Mingyu’s trailer – until you glance up, your eyes bright even in the dark lot.  

“Where’re you going, hotshot?” You don’t sound very interested, but there’s a look on your face that says you’re suspicious. Minghao is sat on a folding chair, his injured leg rested across your knees with your hand holding his shin.  

“Out.” He replies, shrugging his shoulders as your brows furrow.  

“It’s almost lights out.”   “Key word, almost. Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”   

He gives you a quick smile, before shoving his hands into his pockets and making his way out of the lot. He skirts out of the back gate, spotting a neon bar sign a block away.  

“Perfect.”  

IT’S SIX IN THE MORNING WHEN YOU HEAR RUSTLING OUTSIDE.  

You’re lying in Minghao’s bed, your eyes burning as you peel them open. Minghao’s face is buried in your neck, his hand tucked under your sleep shirt as you tilt your head back to peer out his window. The sun is bleeding in as your fingers fumble with the blinds, making Minghao stir before feeling him bury his face deeper into the slope of your neck.  

You can barely make out who you assume to be Junhui – wearing a zip-up hoodie and the cap he wore last night was now backwards on his head. You squint slightly, as if it’d make it better – only to watch him flick the lights of his trailer on and slip inside.   

You tongue your cheek, dropping your hand from the blinds and wrapping your arm around Minghao’s shoulders. He presses a chaste kiss to your skin, before his voice fills your ears.   

“You worry too much.”  

You roll your eyes, feeling his hand slide higher up your back as he drums his fingers against your skin.  

“I do not worry.”   “I can practically hear the gears turning in your head. He’s new, he’s not a psycho killer.”  

“You don’t know that.” You mutter, draping your leg over Minghao’s hip and feeling his lips curve into a smile. “He could be. We don’t know anything about him. He could be a Scorpio.”  

“I’m a Scorpio.”   “Yeah, and you’re evil.”   “Not psycho killer evil. And don’t forget you asked to be edged, I didn’t do that on my own.”  

“God forbid a girl try new things with her boyfriend. And shut up, we said we wouldn’t talk about that after we broke up. Keep the boundaries, man.” You roll your eyes, but your smirk gives you away as he snickers against you.   

Your relationship with Minghao was...intriguing, to say the least.  

Sure, you’d known better than to ever let anyone outside of Mingyu know that the two of you were more than friends – and he only knew because he caught the two of you at an ice cream parlor when you were eighteen. The two of you had been dating for a year at that point, and there was no point in denying it when you were very much holding hands under the table.  

Forced proximity is bound to stir up some feelings.  

You broke up after four years. Neither of you were too sure as to why, but something between you changed. You mutually ended things three months after the JLT Awards, but the two of you remained close – the best of friends, almost.  

With some benefits sprinkled in.  

Neither of you had to mourn the loss of the relationship all that much, and Minghao didn’t really extend his affections to anyone else. The casual touching, sharing a bed, comforting you when you were (rarely) feeling out of your element – it was all reserved for you, but Minghao certainly slept with other people, as did you.  

Minghao and Jihyo were truly the only ones that saw you out of work-mode. Jihyo had known you your entire lives, and they were also the only two that truly knew what happened to your parents.  

You weren’t there when it happened. You were much too young to know any of it, really – but you learned as you got older that your parents had made too many enemies and too quickly. Jihyo’s mother was your father’s partner on the force, and they both worked for the 9th Precinct. Your parents were close to the Parks, and you’d been put into her care for the night so your parents could make the trip up to your aunt’s house in Syracuse and bring her and your cousin down for the New Year.   

They never made it – your father took a wrong turn in Washington Heights and subsequently sent the 34th Precinct into a frenzy. You found out through the nightly news that your parents were stopped at a red light on W. 170th Street after having missed their turn on W. 165th Street on their way to the NY-9A. Pitch black at 11pm on a Tuesday was perfect for an ambush – and you try not to think about the holidays all that much anymore.  

Truth be told, you found solace in the Park family. You felt good knowing that Jihyo was your best friend, to know that her family legacy continued through her for being the first-born niece and that she considered you, at this point, her sister. You felt good finding a sense of belonging, and you ignored the sinking feeling in your chest every time Christmas fell on a Tuesday – 2007, 2012, 2018...  

It would be a while before another in 2029.  

It wasn’t like the holidays were all that easy for you, anyway. You hated the way that everyone walked on eggshells around you, as if you were going to snap at any moment. As if it wasn’t already twenty-two years ago, and you were fine. Everything was fine, and you were moving on. You had to move on.  

“Do you think he’ll be good? Actually?” You murmur as Minghao rests his forehead against your clavicle. He hums, before leaning back slightly, “why? You don’t?”  

You purse your lips, letting out a defeated sigh.  

“I’m just worried about the entire ordeal of onboarding someone new. Jihyo wants a chemistry run before the end of the day, but he has to get his physical with Jeonghan this morning. I need to get Hansol to call Orbit Studio so they can get his headshots so we can print him onto the weekend posters, there’s just so much to do that I can’t worry about whether he’s good.” You bury your nose in his soft hair, “and then you’ve got that checkup today, right? To see if you need surgery?”  

“Will you stop worrying? Everything will be okay. Jeonghan and Joshua have Junhui at nine, so we’ll run a routine with Soonyoung until he gets back at eleven. We’ll run the routine with him until lunch, then I’ll be out from two-thirty onward. I’ll keep you updated, and we both know that if I get surgery, I’m going to be just down at the clinic for rehabilitation. I’m not going to disappear, and you can’t let this situation get you out of sorts.”  

Minghao’s voice is stern as he speaks, and you jut your lip out as he rolls his eyes.  

“Don’t pout at me.”   “I can do whatever I want.”  

He mimics you, his hand beneath your shirt squeezing your hip as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.  

“What time is it?” He sighs, rolling onto his back with a pained groan that makes you scramble up. You fix the pillow that goes under his ankle, feeling his hand trailing your thigh soothingly before his fingers squeeze the back of your knee. “Babe.”  

“Uh...six-fifteen. I’ve gotta get ready,” you mutter, swinging your leg over his hips and pressing a quick kiss to his nose. “I’ll see you out there, right? Mingyu should be barging in here soon.”  

He peers up at you through tired eyes, his hands sliding up your thighs before his fingers dig into the soft flesh.   

“I miss you.”   “I’m right here, Hao.”   “That’s not what I mean, and you know that.”  

You sigh, “I’ve just been busy. Things are so crazy right now, and you know I have to help plan the Horror Nights with Jihyo and Hansol. I’m still here.”  

“It’s like I can still hear her...” Minghao feigns distress, snickering to himself as you scoff, shoving his shoulder lightly. He sticks his tongue out at you, his fingers toying with the hem of your underwear as you lean down slightly.   

“What if the new guy—”   “We’re not playing this game. You won’t like it.”  

His tone is warning, making your skin prickle under his hands as you smirk. You press a kiss to his lips, nipping at his lower lip before patting his shoulder.  

“We’ll see. I’ll leave the door unlocked for Mingyu, and I’ll make your plate if I get there first.” You say softly, earning another kiss from your ex-boyfriend as you slide off his lap and slip your house shoes. You don’t bother grabbing the robe that you left on his couch last night, simply pulling his door open and sliding out with a mischievous grin.  

You cross your arms on your chest, shivering slightly at the cool autumn air as you hop off the trailer steps. Mingyu is stretching in front of his trailer as you make your way to yours, only to hear a wolf whistle from the direction of Soonyoung’s trailer, the unsoiled hinges of his door making you scowl.  

“Shut up!” You yell, hearing a giggle as you climb the steps to your trailer. You punch in your code, stretching an arm over your head as you pull the door open and step inside. Your rack of leotards comes into view, and you make your way over.  

It doesn’t take you long to get ready – and you can hear the ruckus of the boys horsing around in the lot as you swipe on your second layer of lipstick. You chose your candy apple red leotard, the matching aerial boots laying unlaced across the foot of your bed – your stomach churning slightly as hunger begins to set in, mixed with an unsettling feeling.  

You hated this feeling.   

“What’s the worst that could happen?” You mutter to yourself, pushing yourself away from the vanity and grabbing your boots and keycard off your bed, beelining for the door. You push it open, sitting on the edge of the steps as Mingyu manages to pin Soonyoung to the concrete.   

“I said I fucking yield!” Soonyoung’s voice is slightly choked as you smile inwardly, tucking your chin to your chest as Mingyu lets go of Soonyoung’s arm that he was holding against his back. “God, you’re such a fucking tool! It’s not like Tzuyu’s ever gonna look your way.”  

“She did once, and she’ll do it again. Ye of little faith, my man.” Mingyu huffs, nudging Soonyoung’s rib with his foot and earning a scowl. “Plus, it’s not like she’d look at you instead of me. She loved me once.”  

“Key word, loved. Past tense, dipshit.” Chan calls from the door of his trailer, stretching his arms over his head. You tongue your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, lacing the back of your boot up before Seokmin and Seungkwan duck out of their trailers with sweatpants low on their hips and mussed hair. They don’t bother greeting each other as they meet in the middle of the lot, linking pinkies and making their way out of the lot to the tent for breakfast.  

Mingyu flashes you a quick smile as he makes his way to Minghao’s trailer, punching the code into the keypad as you give him one back. You stand up, instinctively wiping your backside of any dust or rubble before Chan and Soonyoung start making their way to the tent with their arms linked.  

“You go ahead, superstar. I’ll get him there.” Mingyu calls over his shoulder, likely feeling the tension radiating off your muscles. “Don’t forget to check in with Jihyo.”  

“Yes, Dad. I got it, Dad. Anything else, Dad?” You scoff, smiling as he sticks his tongue out at you. You clasp your hands behind your back, forcing a skip in your step as your bare toes touch the cool concrete. You make it halfway across the lot before hearing the creak of Junhui’s trailer door opening, making your body come to an abrupt halt as you spin on your heel.   

He’s dressed in a black long sleeve, scrunched where the hem meets the waistband of his sweatpants. He’s wrapping his wrists in oxide tape, catching your eye as he tears the edge of the tape off with his teeth and smooths it over. He raises a brow, maintaining eye contact as he rolls out another piece.  

“Good morning.”  

His voice is gravelly, and you purse your lips as he stops next to you. You glance at his hands as he wraps his other wrist, before you clear your throat. He smiles softly as you tilt your head, clicking your tongue with feigned disinterest as you turn back to face the lot.  

“Good morning, Junhui.”  

He chuckles as you start moving forward again, following behind you in silence. Your shoulders grow rigid as you feel the heat of his gaze settle on them, and you clasp your hands behind your back to have an excuse to roll them back. You hear the sharp tear of the tape as he finishes the wrap, and you merely glance over your shoulder as you reach the gate.  

“How was your first night?”  

He smiles inwardly, tucking the tape into his pocket as he unlocks the gate and holds it open for you.  

“You and I both know I got back an hour ago, don’t play coy.”  

You feel a heat grow in your chest, the skin of your arms prickling as you raise a brow, “where were you?”  

“Are you my keeper, Y/N?”   “In a sense.”   “Cute. I went out. Easy.”  

You crinkle your nose at him, crossing your arms on your chest, “first of all, don’t call me cute.”  

“I’m not calling you cute,” he says pointedly, shrugging. “I’m calling the fact that you think you can boss me around cute. You might run this show, but I’m just visiting. Act like it.”  

Your eyes widen slightly, his eyes running over you as he gives another shrug of his shoulders. He slides past you, a scoff falling from your lips as he waits for you to step out of the lot. He shoves his hands into his pockets as you fall into lockstep with him, before turning to you just as you both reach the back door of the arena.   

“I won’t be here from nine to eleven. I’ve got my physical, and Jihyo told me to let you know?” His voice holds curiosity as you roll your eyes, nodding as you hold your keycard in between your fingers.  

“We’ll be running a chemistry read when you get back. Do you know if you’re getting blood drawn? We’ll have to run it tomorrow if you are, and that could set us back for the Thursday show.”   

“I figured I was, so I was wondering if you’d run a routine with me now instead?” He asks gently, your shoulders stiff as you look up at him, “just before I leave. It’ll probably only get two runs, because I have to leave by eight-thirty.”  

You trill your lips, “I think we’d have to get Hoshi in on it, he’s usually the one who choreographs our routines. Unless you have something prepared, you’ll have to wait until after breakfast. Is that cool?”  

He nods, and you press your lips into a thin line as you nod; your hand holding the keycard to the door and hearing the buzz of it unlocking. He pulls it open, letting you walk inside first. The gaggle of cast members comes into view – and everyone is comfortably serving themselves breakfast off the table, their hair in all sorts of disarray and half of them still in their pajamas. You look across the fruit tray to see Nayeon chewing with her eyes closed as Dahyun limply gels her hair back, making you smile inwardly as you see Soonyoung and Chan sitting on one of the bigger beanbags with their backs pressed to one another.  

“You guys really are like a family.” You hear Junhui murmur behind you, and you glance over your shoulder to see him trailing everyone around the room. His eyes stop at Tzuyu, watching the way she’s taping her ankles as Seungkwan holds a piece of melon to her lips. “You even feed each other.”  

“If you consider that family,” you shrug, grabbing three plates to serve yourself, Mingyu and Minghao. You let Junhui look around, feeling the heat of the cast members’ gazes on your back. You quickly shovel food across plates and balance the three of them on your arms before beelining for the usual table you occupied with your ex-boyfriend and your second longest friend. Junhui gets waved over by Soonyoung, so you part ways without feeling any sort of guilt.  

Breakfast goes by rather quickly. Mingyu and Minghao are the last ones to trail in after Jackson and Jinyoung, apologetic looks on their faces as they near your table. The three of you eat in mumbled whispers, with Minghao asking what Junhui stopped you about. You don’t bother responding, gesticulating to the air as you chewed around a piece of bread.  

The show gets on the road soon after breakfast – you offer to help clean up, gathering plates and cups when Hansol gives you a deadpan look. He takes the items from your hands, pointing to the arena behind you as you huff.  

“I was just trying to help.”   “I know, doll. But this isn’t your job. Go be our neighborhood friendly Spider-Man.”  

Junhui is already talking shop with Soonyoung by the time you, Minghao and Mingyu make it to the ring. Everyone else has scattered to their respective practice areas, and Junhui is spinning one of Nayeon’s balls on his fingertip as he gestures at the air. He’s saying things you can’t quite make out, but his eyes are bright and cheery as you set out a chair for Minghao to sit in.  

“Wipe that look off your face. Everyone is going to think you don’t want to be here, and you’re the one who sets the mood. Lighten up.” Minghao’s voice is warning as Mingyu helps him into the seat, making you scowl as you cross your arms on your chest. You lean against the side of Minghao’s chair, watching the way Soonyoung and Junhui get on.  

“They’re friendly for having just met.” You mutter, only to hear Mingyu snort next to you before he talks over his shoulder as he makes his way up the steps.  

“You’re the only one who doesn’t warm up to strangers. We’re running a business here; we have to be nice to each other.”  

“Nice to each other doesn’t mean being buddy-buddy.” Your nose is scrunched as Minghao gently pinches your thigh, your hand moving back to swat at it. “Stop it.”  

“You look nice.” He murmurs, “I like the red.”  

“I know you like the red, Hao.”   “You’re a tease.”   “You know it, babe.”  

“Y/N, can you get over here? I think we’ve figured something out!” Soonyoung calls, and you quickly plaster a smile on your face before turning to walk backwards. You point at Minghao, “don’t leave for your check-up without telling me, alright?”  

“Yeah, yeah. Go be a superstar without me.” He fakes a pout, making you shake your head as you step into the ring. Junhui tosses the ball towards the bleachers set up around the sides, stretching his arms over his head.  

“I thought of this with Chan last night, so we’re going to have to work out the tweaks as we go. Mingyu already knows most of it, so don’t worry about hoop cues. Cool?” Soonyoung looks eager to get started as Chan fiddles around with the stereo, his fingers typing rapidly into his phone before calling over his shoulder.  

“You want Iris or No Ordinary Love?”   

Your eyes widen, and you turn to look at Soonyoung, “Hosh, those are love songs.”  

“Hardly,” he brushes you off, but you see Junhui’s eyes as wide as yours as he opens his mouth to speak – only to get cut off by Soonyoung replying to Chan with Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls. He calls out to Mingyu to toss one of the ropes, before looking at you and Junhui with a smile as wide as the Cheshire cat, “you ready? Let’s go.”  

“Time check, seven-fifty!” Minghao announces from his seat, crossing his legs at the knee as he clicks his pen. Junhui nods, grabbing the rope as Mingyu throws it and holding it out to Soonyoung, who glances at the phone Minghao holds up.  

"Okay, we have to move fast.”  

“We can just learn it tomorrow,” you try, and Soonyoung gives you an odd look.  

“No,” he shakes his head slowly, “if you learn it tomorrow, he won’t be in the Thursday show. We’ve already started advertising a new face, Y/N.”  

“I’m worried about the time crunch.” You’re making excuses, and Soonyoung can tell as he scoffs, “Y/N, it’s one run. You’ll never get comfortable if you dig your heels in every time we have a new cast member.”  

You feel your cheeks hot as Junhui gives you a pitying look, but he clears his throat and taps Soonyoung’s shoulder.  

“If she wants to run it alone first, we can do that. I learn fast, it’s not a big deal.”   “No, Junhui. This is a duo routine, not a single. I’m going to run it with Chan once, and then you’ll get as far into it as you can before you have to leave.”  

You feel a bit of annoyance settle in the back of your throat as Soonyoung shakes his head at you. He takes the rope from Junhui, tugging at it with a quick flick of his wrist as Chan runs into the arena, handing his phone to Minghao before stepping into the ring. He flashes you an understanding smile as a hoop is tossed down from Mingyu, and he grabs it gingerly.  

“Don’t worry, Y/N. It’s not super romantic or anything, but we’ll have to run it by Jihyo tomorrow so she can give her input. You have to focus on me, though, because I’m doing the part you would take over. Soonyoung is doing Junhui’s.” He nods, before perching into the metal of the hoop as Soonyoung yells a start cue.  

You and Junhui share a quick glance before grimacing, and you cross your arms on your chest as you back out of the ring and sit on one of the bleachers. Junhui follows, albeit standing off to the side of you instead of sitting. Iris starts pouring through the arena, and you fix your eyes on Chan as he’s swung around the arena.  

The men are fluid as they spin around in tune with one another, curling their bodies around the metal of the hoops Mingyu is expertly gliding into their hands. Soonyoung is holding onto Chan tightly with every twist of their bodies – Chan is flipping through hoops and Soonyoung is catching him by the hips, at one point, his ankle as Chan glides through the air. It’s almost like a dance of will they, won’t they; the routine ending with Chan’s back curved around the inside edge of the hoop, his legs crossed at the knee as he suspends Soonyoung with one hand. The older man lets go of Chan’s hand and falling to his knees into the sand-filled ring with a soft thud as the song ends.  

“And we’d cut the lights all dramatic like the moment Junhui lets go of your hand!” Chan calls from the swinging hoop, making you press your lips into a thin line at his bright smile. He flips out of the hoop the way Jihyo always scolds you for, dusting his hands of sand as he helps Soonyoung up. “What do you think? Anything you want to tweak?”   

“You want me to perform a love lost with a man I just met?” You raise a brow, a scoff bubbling past your lips as you shake your head. “Sure. Why not?”  

“Don’t make me hurt your feelings.” Soonyoung rolls his eyes, “be what you are. A star, but above all, professional. Knock it off.”  

Something you’ve never liked about Soonyoung is how little wiggle room he gives you to be a brat. He’s stern and serious, hardworking even when the situation begets a bit of silliness – but you can’t say it hasn’t kept you in line. He’s been witness to many breakdowns, snot-faced sobbing, and his is the loving hand that swipes arnica on your bruises before making you run the routine again.  

No star without the sky, they say.  

“Tape your wrists, let’s get this show on the road.” Junhui gently tosses a roll of tape at you, and you barely catch it as he moves to talk to Soonyoung. Chan gives you a soft frown, resting his chin on your shoulder as you grit your teeth.  

“You won’t always be able to work with people you know,” Chan’s voice is soft, and you feel a squeeze of his fingers on your shoulder as you turn slightly to look at him. You sigh as he bores his eyes into your face, “you look pretty, by the way.”  

“Thanks.” You close your eyes, pressing a quick kiss to his sweaty forehead. “You’ll spot us, right? Mingyu didn’t put the net out this morning.”   

“Junhui is good, he won’t drop you or anything. He was in here this morning, Jihyo told us.”   

Your brow furrows – you were sure Junhui arrived at the lot right as the sun rose. Tonguing your cheek, you nod anyway; quickly wrapping your wrists and handing the tape to Chan gingerly.  

“Well, let’s get it started.”  

Chan had been right about Junhui.  

He didn’t drop you, not once – much less did you have a moment where he wasn’t touching you. Professionally, of course, but something about the way his fingers were warm around your hips made your face hot. He moved you gracefully – catching you with every flip, every twist, maintaining a searing eye contact that makes your skin prickle. He glanced once at your lips – even leaning forward slightly in a way that made your stomach flutter, but you knew it was all for show. You caught glimpses of Minghao filming the routine before Jihyo came to collect Junhui after the third time you ran through it – and you didn’t bother thanking him before moving out of his way.  

He didn’t seem peeved in the slightest.  

And you don’t like how it bothers you.  

Minghao left shortly after lunchtime, giving the back of your head a quick kiss when Jaebeom came to get him. You swallowed your worry, along with the lunch that was threatening to come back up – but you told yourself you were worrying over nothing. Minghao would be back in his trailer tonight and you’d be nestled into his side just like old times.  

You don’t explain to Chan why your hands are shaking as you retape them for the second time, and you don’t say anything when Junhui makes his return from the clinic with his arm bandaged and a sucker in his mouth. You simply grab the rope as Mingyu throws it to you, chewing on your cheek before letting an annoyed breath out and tugging on the rope.  

Soonyoung’s voice is like the buzz of a dying fly in your ear – and you actively ignore it by swinging around with Chan like he’s not even there. You feel Chan’s fingers dig into your waist, into your legs as usual, but nothing out of the ordinary happens until you miss a hoop cue – and you meet the ground faster than a New York Minute.  

You don’t hear anything for a moment, your ears ringing – your body limp against the sand in the ring. You’re crowded almost immediately, your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you push yourself to your feet quickly. Your eyes meet Mingyu’s concerned ones, but you can’t hear what he’s saying as you wipe yourself of the sand sticking to your skin.  

“Y/N.” Seungkwan's hands grab your shoulders, and you feel your nose burn as humiliated tears fill your eyes. His face immediately softens, “does anything hurt?”  

“No.” Your voice is thick as you push his hands off your shoulders, holding them to his chest. You take a wobbly step back from the group of men huddled around you, Seokmin’s face full of misplaced guilt as you clear your throat. “I’m good. Really. Just...missed the hoop.”  

“Y/N, are you –”   

You cut Mingyu off with a wave of your hand, “let’s run it again. I’m just going to get a drink of water. Uh, break.”   

You give them a thumbs up, pushing past them as the first tears trickle down your face. You hear them talking within themselves as you make your way out of the tent, grateful to be met with an empty room backstage as you run a hand over your face. Your shoulders hurt from the impact, but you’d know if something was wrong. You always know.  

“So fucking embarrassing.” You mutter inwardly, running your hands over your bare arms in an attempt to self-soothe. Your hip hurts as you pace like a caged animal, before you force yourself to stand in front of the fountain and hold the push bars to let the water come out of the spout. You can hardly bring yourself to drink any more than to soothe the burn of humiliation in your throat, your fingers gripping the sides of the basin to ground yourself.  

You’ve fallen before. It’s not a big deal.  

“She’s just distracted. So many things are happening around her, I’d be distracted too. Give her a minute, she’ll get back on her feet. Y/N always gets back up; there’s a reason she’s the star.” You can hear Seokmin's voice from your spot in the backroom, your eyes squeezing shut at the sound of your name.  

Y/N always gets back up; there’s a reason she’s the star.  

You’ve always loved the spotlight. You worked hard for it; you’d rightfully earned it.  

But it feels like a burden at times.  

Shaking yourself off, you nibble on your lip as you pull the tape off and reach for a new roll off one of the carts. You wrap your wrists carefully, tearing the end of the tape off with your teeth before tossing the roll back onto the cart. You wipe at your eyes carefully, sniffling inwardly before rolling your shoulders back and making your way back into the tent. Soonyoung looks at you first, rushing out of the ring towards you but you just give him a pointed look as you move past him.  

“Don’t baby me,” you call over your shoulder, stretching your arms over your head as the rest of the men disperse to the bleachers. Junhui gives you a soft glance that makes your brow furrow, but you keep walking as Mingyu makes his way back up the stairs and Chan timidly stands in the middle of the ring.  

“Any updates from Minghao?” You say in Seungkwan’s direction, only to be met with a thumbs down as he picks up the hoops he’s polishing. You nod grimly, your eyes catching a bruise forming on the skin of your left arm where you’d landed. “Thanks.”  

The rest of your allotted practice goes horribly – everyone is walking on eggshells as they correct your moves, as Chan makes it a point to hold you even tighter than necessary, so you don’t have another slip. It bothers you down to the bones, even if you know they’re doing the best they can with what you’d allow.  

You don’t get hurt. You’re the star. It’s not allowed.  

You run the routine so many times you’ve lost count and you’re almost certain you could do it in your sleep – but Soonyoung still looks dissatisfied as Chan helps you off the hoop. He opens his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Mingyu’s hand covering his face as the taller man smiles brightly.  

“It’s dinner time, and I think we should call it a night. I’ll see you and Junhui here tomorrow morning, before breakfast. Think you can stomach that?” Mingyu uncaps his pen with his teeth, scribbling across Soonyoung’s clipboard as the lot of you huddle around them. You pat Chan’s back gently as he pants, sweat dripping off his face as he crouches. “Y/N, ice that shoulder, will you? I don’t want to hear any complaints.”  

“My shoulder is fine, Gyu,” you roll your eyes, only to feel Soonyoung’s fingers tug at the sleeve of your leotard to show the bruise bloomed across your skin. You swat his hand away, sticking your tongue out as you reach for a water bottle off the cart Seokmin had wheeled in after your fall. “That’s a wrap, team. Eat up, we’ve got a busy weekend ahead of us.”  

You excuse yourself without another word, beelining for your trailer. You avoid interactions with anyone else, grabbing a random keycard off the hook by the door and feeling your skin prickle at the cold air. You grimace, crossing your arms on your chest as you jog into the lot and punch your code into the trailer door.  

You tug your clothes off without much thought, fiddling with the showerhead annoyedly. The water is scalding against your back but soothing to your muscles. Your hair feels heavy on your head as the water soaks it, and you wrap your arms around yourself to feel a warmth that not even the hottest of water could bring.  

You feel your chest fill with worry as you think of Minghao. He would’ve called by now or come back if it was nothing. He would’ve at least sent a text, but you’d left your phone in the trailer so you wouldn’t be distracted by the incessant need to check on him.  

You finish in the shower quickly; haphazardly drying your hair before grabbing your phone off the dresser while still in your towel. You scroll through the notifications before seeing three missed calls from Minghao — timestamped four hours ago each.  

You immediately press the button to call him back. The line rings once, twice – before Jihyo picks up.  

“Hey, Y/N.” She sighs on the other side, and your chest tightens as you sit up quickly.   

“Hey, Jihyo. Is he –”   “He’s in surgery. They said they had to do it today or he’d risk permanent damage. Though, I don’t know how this isn’t medically permanent damage, too.”  

“Fuck,” you squeeze your eyes shut, running your hand over your face as they prick with tears. “Is he almost out? Can I go see him? Have you eaten anything?”  

“He just went under twenty minutes ago. He’ll be out soon, they said it only takes two hours. You can come see him tomorrow, because he’s gonna have to stay in the recovery ward for the next six weeks. And yes, I’ve eaten, so you can’t use that as an excuse to come up here. I’ll tell them not to let you in, so don’t try it.” Jihyo says sternly, your eyes rolling as tears spill out. You sniffle lightly, hearing her sigh on the other end.   

“He’ll be alright. You know Hao, he’s a trooper.” She shifts, likely uncomfortable in the hard plastic chairs at the hospital. “How was practice? Junhui got blood drawn, so I hope you guys didn’t tag him in.”  

“I fell,” you admit quietly, tears rolling down the side of your face as you lean your head back, “missed a hoop cue.”  

“Level one to ten?” Jihyo is tired, and you let out a limp chuckle, “just a few bruises. My ego took the brunt of it; I was so embarrassed.”  

“Y/N, people fall all the time.”   “Not me, Jihyo. I don’t fall, ever.”   “Bullshit, you fell three times last year.”  

“You get what I mean,” you mutter. You pick at your nails, “Soonyoung’s been hard on me today. Says I need to be professional and not treat Junhui like a stranger.”  

“He’s right, babe.” Jihyo laughs, clicking her tongue. “Junhui’s nice. He and I chatted a bit on the way to his physical, he’s very sweet. It’d do you well to get to know him.”  

You scoff, “no way. Who’s to say that he even stays with Skyline? I know better than to get attached.”  

Jihyo snorts on the other end of the line, “eat dinner, crazy girl. Get an ice cream cone, if you want. You need one for that bruised ego.”   

“You’re supposed to comfort me! My best friend is in surgery, I fell during practice and you’re laughing at me!” You whine like a child, only to hear her laugh slightly harder.  

“Babe, you’ll be alright. Go get some ice cream with the guys, take the card. It’s in your wallet. I’ve gotta go, I’m halfway through the episode where Ted gets dumped at the altar. Be good.”   

Jihyo hangs up before you get a chance to say anything else, and you let out a frustrated sigh as you get a glimpse of yourself in the vanity mirror. The bruise spanning your shoulder isn’t very big but it’s painful to look at as you reach for your moisturizer. You run through your night routine, slathering cream down the slope of your neck and rubbing deodorant on before tugging on a sweatshirt and sleep shorts. You pull on a pair of thick socks, shoving your phone and wallet into the pocket of your sweatshirt before tugging on a pair of sneakers.   

You don’t bother entertaining the prickle of your skin in the cold air as you step outside of your trailer – only to see Junhui ducking out of his with his cap pulled over his head.  

You don’t say anything as he clambers down his steps, pulling the bill of his cap lower before he glances up and locks eyes with you. He stops, making you raise a brow as you trail your eyes over his attire. Sweatpants and the same sweatshirt he was wearing the night before.  

“Going somewhere, hotshot?”   “Out.”  

He shrugs casually, tucking his hands into his pockets as he tilts his head at you. You slowly take the steps down, “where?”  

“What’s it to you, princess?”   “Maybe I wanna tag along.”   “Not an invitation.”  

You tilt your head at him before shrugging your shoulders, “well, I’m looking for company, anyway. What says you ditch your plans and join me?”  

He tongues his cheek, clearly fighting back a smile as he pulls his hand from his pocket, swinging his keys around his finger.   

“Depends on what you’re doing.”   “Going out, hotshot.”   “You’re cute.”  

“I know,” you roll your eyes, before turning on your heel. “Feel free to follow along or go about your own plans. Just know you’re missing out on a sick ice cream run if it’s the latter.”  

You get a few feet ahead before hearing him chuckle lightly, almost in defeat as he moves forward. He falls into lockstep with you, reaching up to flip his cap backwards as he opens the lot gate for you to slide through. You shake your head as you do so, walking through the darker alley that leads to the trailers, sealed off by yet another gate. You push it open, holding it wider for him as he tucks his hands into his pockets.  

“How’s Minghao?” He asks gently, and you sigh.  

“He’s in surgery.” You nod slowly, pursing your lips as you feel him move you to the inner part of the sidewalk as he takes the street-facing side. Your hips bump with every step, “he’ll be out for the next six weeks. I’m going to go see him tomorrow during breakfast.”  

He hums in response, “and ice cream makes you feel better?”  

“I always get ice cream when I have a weird day.” You admit, and it feels like driving a knife into your chest as you do so. “Things just feel weird. I’ll get over it.”  

“Being vulnerable isn’t supposed to be scary, you know. I’m not going to hurt you.”   “I don’t know that.”  

Your response is quick and quipped, earning a raise of his brow as he presses the button to cross the street. You stuff your hands in your pocket, the wind biting at your legs keeping you grounded.  

“Sorry.”   “No, don’t be. I get it.”   “Do you?”  

“You’re not the only one who’s been hurt by the things they love.” His voice is gentle, and he instinctively takes your elbow in his hand as you both cross the street. “In this case, by those you’re supposed to trust. I don’t blame you, because we’re just coworkers. But if you knew me, even a little bit...you’d know I’m just as loyal as everyone else on your team. I just won’t let you treat me like an option, especially when I was onboarded specifically for you.”  

You don’t respond, opting to glance at his hand on your elbow as you reach the other side of the street. He drops his hand, tucking it into the pocket of his sweatpants as you keep your gaze on the ground. You don’t say anything for the next two blocks, silently kicking gravel and giving strangers a curt nod – and Junhui keeps his hands tucked in his pockets unless he’s pressing the crosswalk buttons.  

“You said you’re from Washington, right?” You mumble as you spot the ice cream parlor a block and a half away, the pink neon light that says Momo’s flickering in your line of vision. He hums, nodding before looking at you with a raised brow.  

“What of it?”   “What made you move to Boston?”  

He sighs, clicking his tongue as he shrugs, “just like you have your secrets, I have mine.”  

“Oh, come on.”  

He chuckles inwardly as you both stop in front of the parlor, and he reaches for the door handle with a one-shouldered shrug, “eye for an eye.”  

You roll your eyes as you duck inside the warm shop, your eyes meeting the owner’s as she aggressively wipes at the counter with a damp rag. She smiles brightly, dropping the rag and wiping her hands on her pink apron before shoving open the ice cream case.  

“Y/N! Chocolate almond, yes?” She grabs the scoop out of the warm water, her eyes sparkling as she glances over your shoulder at Junhui. Her smile turns into a smirk, and she expertly flips the scoop in her hand before glancing back at you, “you brought company. He’s cute.”   

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t gas him up about it, it’ll get to his head.” You wave her off teasingly, before pointing your thumb at him, “Junhui, this is Momo. Momo, this is Junhui. He’s my partner while Hao’s out.”  

“Nice to meet you,” Momo reaches her hand over the ice cream case, “Momo Hirai. I own this parlor and another in Newark, if you’re ever in the area.”  

“Wen Junhui, it’s a pleasure. I’ve been to your place in Newark; I was part of a circus there before I moved to Boston. And then, well, here.” He shakes her hand politely, and her eyes flash with something you don’t quite recognize before she smiles again.  

“Boston, you say? Were you part of the Extravaganza?” She asks, grabbing a cup from the stack to her left and dipping her scoop in the warm water again before she pushes the case open. Her hand dips into the chocolate almond tub as Junhui nods, “yeah. I can’t believe that things got so insane. I lost a few friends to the...incident.”  

Junhui’s voice turns a bit bitter as he glances at his shoes, and Momo frowns as she drops the perfect scoop of ice cream into the cup for you. She slides it over the case and sticks a spoon into the cup, “I’m sorry to hear that. Have they got any updates?”  

“Nothing that I’ve heard of, but the detectives made it a point to keep us out of the loop. They questioned us for a few weeks and now it seems like they’ve just dropped the case. It feels like a load of bullshit, pardon my French.” Junhui rolls his eyes, digging the toe of his sneakers into the brilliant white tile. Momo’s eyes soften, “I hope you hear something soon, Junhui. Can I interest you in a scoop? On the house.”  

“Nah, I’m alright.” He shakes his head, and you clear your throat softly, digging in your pocket and pulling out your wallet. You take out a ticket that you keep for emergencies, holding it out to Momo.  

“You should come see us tomorrow. It’ll be his first performance with Skyline; I’m sure some support would be great.” You smile softly as she takes the ticket between her fingers and pins it on the corkboard next to her register.  

“I’ll do my best to get out there. Shop’s been slow anyway, what with the weather. You’re the only one crazy enough to get here and in those shorts, Y/N. God, what have I told you about wearing shorts when it’s cold!?” She scolds you, only for you to elbow Junhui lightly as you spin on your heel.  

“I’ll listen about my shorts when you listen about your skirts. And your tops, and your shoes—”   “I’m a business owner, I have to match the aesthetic of my shop. Even if it means a pink miniskirt in October!”  

“Love you, Momo.” There’s a lilt to your voice as you wink at her, pushing the door open with your body as she rolls her eyes and waves. Junhui mirrors her with an amused smile as you skip out, holding the spoon with a nibble of ice cream flat against your tongue. He chuckles as he falls into lockstep with you, fixing his cap before pressing the crosswalk button.  

“It’s nice to see you relaxed.” He hints, “you’re so...professional.”  

“Consider that Momo is my friend of many years.”   “Consider that maybe I need a friend, have mercy. I’ve lost mine along the way.”  

You can tell the joke feels cynical to him as he scrunches his nose, and you look over your shoulder at him, “did you, actually?”  

“Of course, I did. I was there for a year. You’re bound to make some friends.” He shrugs, leaning against the pole as he looks at you with a pointed look. “I’m not saying we have to be friends. We don’t. I’m just saying that you don’t have to warm up to me, because it’s unlikely I’ll warm up to you. I’m a man scorned, and too many times at that.”  

“Then why are you so nice?”   “Why would I be mean to you, when the entire point of our relationship is to build trust? We can’t work together if you don’t trust me, it’ll affect the performance and the chemistry we have in the ring. It’d be a slap in the face to Skyline for me to be a douche to you after you’ve all given me a chance to start anew, even if my heart isn’t ready to be here.”  

Your mouth opens to say something, but you’re cut off by the light changing. He gives you a quick smile before pushing off the pole and beckoning you forward as he starts to cross the street. You follow along, your hip bumping his before his hand on your shoulder moves you in front of him just as the light turns green again.  

“Gotta move faster, princess. Can’t replace the star of the show that quickly.”   “You’re sick and twisted.”  

He snickers as you gape, “if I don’t laugh, I’ll cry and then I’m really fucked. Perspective.”  

You’re both silent for the next block, Junhui’s eyes roaming the buildings and shops lining the neighborhood around you.   

“You grew up here?” He asks, and you nod as you spoon your ice cream into your mouth. “Your whole life?”  

“Yep. Born in Kips Bay and moved to East Harlem when I was six. Been in the circus ever since.” You nod slowly, before glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “You read the handbook, right? You know why.”   

“Knowing why versus wanting to get to know you outside of that are two different things. I’m sure you’re tired of people walking on eggshells around you because of that. You won’t get that with me.” He shrugs, clicking his tongue. “Not that I don’t care, I do. I just...don’t want to be babied about my loss, so I assume you don’t, either.”  

“Agreed.” You mumble, running your teeth over your tongue before tossing the rest of the ice cream in a nearby trashcan.   

You pull your hood over your head, shoving your hands in your pockets before sighing, “can I ask what your plans were for tonight?”  

“Same thing they were yesterday.”   “Which was?”  

He smiles inwardly, tonguing his cheek, “I mustn't say, it’s not appropriate to share my moonlight activities with a lady of your...stature.”  

“Oh, come on! You act like you’re so mysterious, but I know, deep down, you wanna tell me.” You turn your nose up at him as he laughs inwardly, shaking his head as you huff. “Junhui!”  

“I’m doing what any guy does when he’s single and coping,” he sucks his teeth, “I get a drink and take a cute girl back to her apartment, maybe freak it. Maybe not.”  

“You get laid?” Your voice is incredulous, and it makes his brows raise in surprise, a laugh of disbelief falling from his lips as he looks at you.  

“Why is that so surprising? You think you’re the only person I have chemistry with?”   “This is not about me.”   “Trust me, one of us gets laid enough and it’s certainly not you.”  

“How presumptuous of you, Mr. Wen.” You scoff, your cheeks hot as he bumps your arm. “And how inappropriate! I am your coworker! One could even say I’m your boss!”  

“Mmh, I love a woman in power.”   “Ew!”  

He bites back his smile as you scrunch your nose, “don’t flirt with me.”  

“You think that’s flirting?” He raises a brow, but you’ve both reached the alley gate as you put your hands on your hips. He punches the code into the pad, giving you a quick glance as he speaks, “you’ve never lived if you think that’s flirting.”  

“Okay, virgin.”   “We both know that’s not true.”  

You make a face of disgust, only earning another laugh from him as he opens the gate to let you in. He doesn’t follow, instead leaning against it and tilting his head at you. You raise a brow at him, crossing your arms on your chest as he sighs.  

“Earlier, when you fell,” he starts, your shoulders going rigid as he clicks his tongue, “you’re not hurt, are you? Genuinely?”  

“No. I’m fine.” You mutter, “plus, I don’t get hurt. That doesn’t happen to me.”   

“You’re not indestructible.”   “And you’re not my dad, so don’t act like you care.”  

You swallow the immediate regret that lays flat on your tongue as he looks slightly taken aback. He brushes it off quickly with a nod, sucking his teeth as he pushes off the gate.  

“Well,” his voice is level, “just thought I’d check. Forgive me for caring, princess.”  

“Stop calling me that.”   “I will, when you stop acting like the world revolves around you.”  

He smiles gently, drumming against the gate with his fingers, “now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ve got somewhere to be.”  

The gate shuts in your face before you can reply, and you can hear his shoes against the graveled pavement walking away. You scoff, tonguing your cheek as you turn on your heel and make your way back to the lot.  

You ignore the twist in your stomach, focusing instead on the warm glow of the fire artists still practicing in their section. You follow it to your own lot, seeing the majority of your team filing into it for the night. A sigh falls from your lips as you tuck your hands into your pockets, calling out to them.  

“Guys! Wait up!”  

JUNHUI NOTICES THE ROCKING OF YOUR TRAILER AS HE STOPS AT THE LOT GATE.  

It’s been two weeks since he arrived at the circus. Your practices together have been rigid, but the chemistry is still there and Jihyo commends it. Soonyoung has repeatedly told you to let loose, to relax, but you’re stiff in Junhui’s presence and you blame it on Minghao’s absence – but Junhui sees right through you.  

And something about the way you act around him – distant but like you’re searching for something...it makes his chest warm. Not in a way he’d ever expected, either – and it’s distracting him from the whole reason he even joined Skyline.  

Your first performance together, however, was a huge success. You hid your insecurities behind the bright smile you wore, the sparkle of your custom leotards, the bounce of your hair. You touched him enough to sell it, enough to make everyone believe there was something there – but only he felt the tremble of your fingers and the way your breath hitched with every movement against one another.   

You were the star everyone talked about, and the star everyone loved. You spoke loud and clear, your voice never wavering even as your hands trembled behind you. You entertained families who wanted pictures, posing cutely and answering questions about Minghao’s absence vaguely. Your body was rigid at the mention of him, but you quickly played it off and invited the families to return next week for more performances and whatever special treat the concessions stand would have that weekend. You spent your time smiling until your cheeks hurt and Junhui saw the way Jihyo massaged the back of your neck after every performance despite you telling her you didn’t need it.   

Junhui, on the other hand – spent his time studying you and the way you acted around everyone, sans Lucky Star Boyfriend (formerly known as Xu Minghao.) You were more reserved with the fire artists, but you got along swell with the clowns. Tzuyu, the tightrope walker, often enjoyed conversations with you – only for her eyes to travel to Mingyu, who would already be looking at her.  

That was another person of interest for Junhui – Kim Mingyu. Tall, smart, sweet. Flirty.  

Too close to you for his comfort. There was an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, but not of coworkers – one of past lovers. One of people who have seen each other bare it all, one of people who have smelled the sweat off each other’s bodies and instead of turning away, licked it off.  

One of people who have sealed wounds with their tongues, instead of leaving the other to die.  

Despite that very visible chemistry, you had no interest in Mingyu, and he had none in you. You worked together well; you egged him on when you caught him watching Tzuyu practice her routine. He teased you back, he talked about her excitedly and you were just as excited to entertain his rants about her. The two of you were glued at the hip, and it was clearly something that happened once – perhaps to get it out of your systems, or just to get the curiosity of it out.  

However, your chemistry with Soonyoung was palpable. The two of you bickered and bitched at each other like lovers in a quarrel only for Soonyoung to pull you into a hug at the end of practice and kiss your cheek. He’d ask if you’re alright, if you need anything; he’d sweep your hair off your sweaty face while holding you close to him with an arm around your waist. He’d squeeze your hip, your lips planting on his cheek before swatting him away.  

Almost like the moment Minghao turns his back, you’ve got someone to take care of you.  

None of the other men have this chemistry with you. Seokmin and Seungkwan are very respectful, but in the same way best friends are. They tease you and make fun of you, but they take their role in your life and on your team very seriously. They practice with you diligently and prove time and time again (over the last weeks, at least) that they are not replaceable.   

Chan...has a bit of yearn to him. He watches you with puppy eyes that say he’s absolutely enamored with you, that say he’s waiting for his turn in your arms, in your mind...  

In your bed.  

Chan looks at you like you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, like he’ll never know anything better. He does trapeze with you like he’s trying to prove something, like he wants you to know he should be the next person that wins your heart. He holds you tenderly, and Junhui notices the way he blushes beet red every time a routine has his face close to yours and the way he can’t even hold eye contact when you smile.   

Junhui notices the way that no one else has managed to spot this. The way that Chan immediately looks away if Junhui catches him staring at you, or how he rubs his neck awkwardly when you’re stretching in the barre room. Junhui notices the way Chan saves the blueberry yoghurt cups in case they’re running low because they’re your favorite and the way that Chan cannot stand his spot next to you at the trapeze table being taken by Soonyoung.  

He’s a tortured soul, Lee Chan.  

A part of Junhui hopes that the reason behind your trailer rocking is that you’ve finally given the poor guy a chance – but instead, the door slams open to you kicking Soonyoung, Seungkwan and Seokmin out with drenched hair and pajamas.  

“Don’t you ever wake me up like that again! I was just starting to fall asleep!” You throw a grey bucket out with them, the plastic thunking against the back of Soonyoung’s head as he scowls. You’re fuming on the steps, looking at your soaked pajamas that are clinging to your body as Seungkwan and Seokmin bolt for the lot gate. Junhui barely manages to move out of the way before they skirt past him, and you’re still yelling at Soonyoung – who is yelling back that he wasn’t even there when they dumped the bucket on you.  

“What’re they yelling about?” Mingyu’s voice makes Junhui jump, the younger man’s canines peeking through his bitten smile. Junhui scowls, holding a hand to his chest as Mingyu brings a cup to his lips, World’s Best Dad worn across the ceramic.  

“Someone threw water on Y/N while she was asleep. She threw the bucket at Hoshi’s head.” Junhui’s voice is almost bored as he explains, crossing his arms on his chest as Mingyu snickers.  

“Yeah, that sounds about right. We saw Minghao last night and he said he wants us to keep her on her toes, but I don’t think he meant like this. Especially when Y/N has trouble sleeping at night.” Mingyu shrugs, and Junhui peers over his shoulder at him. “What?”  

“Since when?”   “Since when, what?”   “Since when does Y/N have issues sleeping?”  

“Oh, pft. As long as I’ve known her.” He shrugs, “even longer, most likely. She’s always shared a bed with Jihyo or Minghao, so I just assume it was a difficult transition. We shared a bed once when we went up to Rochester two summers ago, she went to bed early and tossed and turned for ages until I turned in. Fell asleep the moment I got under the covers.”  

“Huh,” Junhui clicks his tongue, and Mingyu only shrugs again as you and Soonyoung keep yelling at each other. You’re in his face now, and Soonyoung is eagerly feeding the fire when Junhui looks at Mingyu, “should we stop them?”  

“We could, or we could let Y/N tire herself out.”   “...I’m kind of fearing for Hoshi’s safety.”   “If she beats his ass, it’s been long coming. You’ve only been here a week, but he pisses her off like no other. Not even I get on her nerves that bad.”  

Junhui lets a snicker fall from his lips as you pull your wet shirt off your body and throw it in Soonyoung’s face, the cloth landing on his chest with a wet plop. Your own is covered by an equally soaked tank top, the peaks of your nipples prominent as Junhui shields his eyes.  

“And you can re-choreograph today’s routine by yourself!” You screech, before the slam of the metal door to your trailer is heard. Mingyu sucks his teeth, and Junhui peeks through his fingers to see Soonyoung clutching your wet shirt in his hand as he runs the other over his face. He bends at the waist, grabbing the bucket and tossing the shirt into it.  

“You walk in to ask if she wants to get ice cream and are met with a wet shirt to the face.” He grumbles as he walks past Junhui and Mingyu. Mingyu sighs before turning on his heel, following behind Soonyoung as Junhui stares at your trailer.   

The lot is empty now, and the moonlight is bright against the tops of the trailers.  

He can see you moving around the trailer through the windows, and he keeps his head down as he crosses the lot to gently knock on your door. Any rustling inside stops, a low muttering heard as you throw the door open. It hits his shoulder, your scowl immediately dropping as you put your hands up. You’ve already changed into another set of pajamas, but your hair is sectioned off and still damp.  

“Shit, I’m sorry. I thought you were Hoshi, are you alright?” You wince like you’re the one in pain, but Junhui just brushes it off and glances at you with concern.  

“Are you? You looked like you were about to pop a blood vessel when you were yelling at him.” Junhui crosses his arms, but your brows are furrowed.  

“I’m fine. Go to bed.” You move to close the door, but still momentarily. “Why do you care?”  

He only smiles, tucking his hands into his pockets as he shrugs.  

“See you.”   “Junhui.”   “Be sure to stretch for me, princess. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”  

“Ugh!” You make a face as he clambers down the steps, “what is with all of you today?! Why do you all hate me?!”  

You almost manage to slam the door, but Junhui’s faster – he grabs the door before it closes, gently pulling it open as he leans against the frame. Your eyes are riddled with fatigue, and you open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off.  

“You must be so tired, hm?”  

“Yes, I am,” you mutter pointedly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m trying to get to bed.”  

“Why, so you can toss and turn for a few hours and give us hell when you get up tomorrow?” Junhui raises a brow, “why don’t you just admit you’re having trouble? Did no one ever teach you how to ask for help?”  

For the first time, Junhui sees defeat cross your features. You nibble on your lip, sighing before your shoulders lose their tension and you turn into the trailer. Junhui takes the chance to poke his head into it – the walls powder blue and everything organized in an almost torturous way. Your leotards are set in rainbow order, all your boots clipped to the hangers. A black couch that looks almost cloud-like lines the back wall, facing a heavily stocked vanity with hot hair tools and makeup neatly slotted away aside from one fuchsia blow dryer sitting on the table.  

You slump in the black vanity chair, crossing your arms on your chest before your head lolls to the side. You blink at him, gesturing at the blow dryer.  

“Do you know how to work this? My shoulders hurt.” You admit quietly, and Junhui nods silently, toeing his shoes off and leaving them outside before stepping into the trailer. You move forward to plug it in, but he taps the back of your chair to stop you as he does it himself. “Lowest setting, please. Too much heat will make my head hurt.”  

Junhui stands behind you, watching the way your eyelids grow heavy as he silently dries your hair. You make eye contact several times through the mirror, only for them to fall shut at the feeling of Junhui’s fingers against your scalp.   

“How’s Minghao? You got a chance to check on him yesterday, right?”  

“He was too tired to talk to me. I just sat with him until he fell asleep,” your voice is almost tender, but you click your tongue. “Mingyu and Hosh got him in the morning, and I got stuck rehearsing with you for Jihyo.”  

“Hey, I said you could leave.”   “I didn’t want to. I don’t need to let anyone down. Work first, feel later.”  

Your admission is whispered, barely audible over the sound of the dryer. Something in Junhui’s chest sinks as he peers at your tired face, the way your body is slumped against the cozy chair and he sighs.  

“You’d never let me down.” He rakes his fingers through your hair, before turning off the dryer and unplugging it. He wraps the cable around it, sliding it into the empty slot on your vanity before looking over his shoulder at you.  

“It’s not just about you.”   “I know, but I am part of the ‘everyone’ you speak of. At least, for now.”  

“Are you going out tonight?” You ask, blinking up at him slowly as he lies on instinct – shaking his head before thinking. You tilt your head back, the slope of your neck visible to his eyes as you sigh, “can you keep me company until I fall asleep?”  

He only nods, pushing down his subtle annoyance as he takes off his cap and hangs it on the hook by your door. He shrugs off his sweatshirt, “how long?”  

“You don’t have to.”   “I want to, but I need to sleep too, you know.”   “Bullshit, you’re out until four in the morning.”  

“I love that you keep tabs on me, princess. Makes me feel wanted.” He teases, watching you roll your eyes as you slide off the chair, stretching your arms over your head as you let out a soft groan. You roll your shoulders before gesturing at the light switch, “turn it off and come with me.”  

He does as you ask, his eyes catching the tension in your calves as you make your way to the door that separates your bedroom from the living area. He follows behind quickly, watching the way you gather the sheets you’d taken off the bed and stuff them into the hamper at the end of your bed.  

“They’re such jerks,” you mumble inwardly, “they know I can’t sleep well without Minghao.”  

“Just Minghao?”   “I don’t remember the last time I slept in here alone.”  

“Where do you want me?” He ignores the drop in his stomach as he watches you pull the duvet back, hearing you let out an exhausted laugh that makes your shoulders shake.  

“Are we fucking or something? Just lie down, man.”   “We cou—”   “Shut up.”  

Junhui bites back his laugh as he approaches the side of the bed, before you flop onto your back on the left side, “don’t worry about any water patches, it mostly soaked into the mattress topper. So just lay wherever.”  

You look pained as you stretch your legs, and Junhui perches on the edge of your bed before reaching over gently and squeezing your calf, “do you not stretch before bed?”  

“I’m too tired to stretch right now.” You sigh, your shoulders sinking into the mattress, “and Minghao usually helps me before I go to bed, anyway.”  

“Minghao not being here is not a reason to neglect your muscles. You’ll get hurt and then we’re all screwed.” Junhui says pointedly, and you raise a brow, sitting up on your elbows.   

“Minghao usually–”   “Minghao isn’t here, princess. So just let me help you.”  

You huff, but Junhui’s gaze is pointed and you roll your eyes as you lay back down again. Stretching isn’t intimate, perse – but you can’t make eye contact as Junhui’s fingers dig into your thighs and calves as he moves your body around. You wince here and there, murmured apologies spilling from Junhui’s lips before he eventually stops, kneading the muscle of your calf before sighing.  

“What’s your deal?” He asks, and you peel an eye open to look down at him. He squeezes your leg, making you lazily swat at him before resting your hand on your stomach. He lays on his beside you, holding himself up on his elbows as he peers at your face. You close your eye again, “elaborate.”  

“Why are you so uptight?”   “That’s certainly one way to ask me why I’m so hardworking and dedicated.”   “Well, no.”  

You snort, your lips curling into a soft smile as you shrug, “I have a lot of weight on my shoulders, but it’s nothing I don’t love. Ice cream with the team or alone is usually the only way I get out of here. I don’t have hobbies or vices because I don’t have time, but I love trapeze so much that sometimes, I think it doesn’t matter.”  

You grimace as you turn on your side, tucking your arm under your pillow and bringing it lower against your chest. Your cheek smushes against the pillow, but you open your eyes to look at him, “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”  

“You work too hard.”   “It’s all I have, don’t take it from me.”  

Your voice is soft, almost pitiful as you look at him through your lashes.  

“It’s not all you have. You’re someone outside of the circus, too.” Junhui tries, but you shake your head, letting your eyes fall closed. He takes the opportunity to take you in – soft lips, pouted from the way your cheek is squished by the pillow. Full lashes lining your eyes, your hair in disarray and your earrings twinkling in the low light of your bedroom. He sighs, clicking his tongue before reaching over your head and turning the lights off. You tense slightly at the proximity, your skin prickling as he rolls his eyes, opening his mouth but you mumble before he can say anything.  

“Lie down.”   “Don’t rush me.”   

He pulls the duvet over you, before letting his head hit the pillow as he turns onto his back. He stares at the ceiling – seeing an array of rock music posters, several Polaroids of you holding trophies and posing provocatively in Halloween costumes before shows, and glow-in-the-dark stars scattered about.   

“You’ve lived a whole life with Skyline, haven’t you?” He murmurs, but you don’t reply – your lashes kissing your cheeks as you breathe softly, sound asleep. His chest warms oddly, but he allows it to seep into him as he rakes his eyes over your sleeping face. “Goodnight, princess.”  

You’ve been awake for exactly seven minutes, just staring at the alarm clock on your windowsill. The red numbers mock you; the hard shell covered in faded stickers from years past. You don’t dare move, feeling Junhui’s steady breathing against the back of your neck – his arm wrapped warmly around your waist, pulling you into his chest and keeping you there against your better judgment.  

You can feel your skin prickling at the proximity, but your cheeks are hot at the feeling of his hips pressing into yours unknowingly. Nothing is happening, he’s not sporting a boner or anything – you just feel...warm. Too warm, and worry sinks into your bones as you feel him nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck.  

Your voice is caught in your throat as you open and close your mouth, but the hitch in your breath is enough that you feel his arm tighten around you. He stirs behind you, and you quickly squeeze your eyes shut before feeling him lean over to look at you.  

“Stop pretending you’re asleep.”   “I’m not pretending. I’m asleep. Shut up.”  

Your scowl is useless as he half-laughs, pressing you into the mattress as he reaches over and tilts the clock to look at it – three-fifty-six in the morning glares back at him. He grunts, shoving the clock away before falling back into place behind you. He doesn’t put his arm back around you, instead laying on his back with a groan.   

“I should go back to my trailer.” He mumbles, “why is your bed so soft? That’s so unfair...”  

He trails off with a puff of air from his lips, wiggling around behind you as you lamely clear your throat.  

“If you want.”   “Do you?”   “Doesn’t matter what I want.”  

He scoffs, propping himself up on his elbow and leaning over you. His chest is warm against your back, and you make the mistake of turning your head to look at him, the quirk in your brow faltering as you realize how close he is. His eyes purposely scan your face, stopping at your lips for what feels like forever before they flicker back up to your eyes.  

“May I speak freely?” He cocks his head slightly, and you find the courage to roll your eyes as you move back to your original position, snuggling your face into your pillow, “no, Junhui. Go back to sleep.”  

“Would it kill you to be nice to me?”   “I’d certainly kill you; I don’t know about being nice.”   “...Oh, I get it.”  

You still, your hand gripping the hem of the duvet to pull it over your shoulder, “get what, Junhui? You’re gonna get your ass handed to you if you don’t shut your ass up.”  

“You don’t want to get close to me or treat me decently because you’re worried that you’ll fall for my charm.”  

You choke on your spit, your fist hitting your chest quickly as you sit up – only to see Junhui sporting a shit-eating grin as he looks up at you. You inhale deeply, coughing lightly before lying back down with a huff. He peers down at you smugly, “I’m right, aren’t I?”  

“You’re annoying, is what you are.” You mutter, turning back on your side to face away from him. “It’d do you well to shut the fuck up sometimes.”  

“You’re kind of catty, you know that?”   “It’s part of my charm, and unless you want me to get really catty...shut up.”  

He doesn’t dignify you with a response – instead giving a soft snort before laying back down. He keeps a safe distance between you and him. The loss of warmth is palpable, but you only pull the duvet higher on your body as you close your eyes.  

It feels like an hour passes by – your eyes burning with fatigue as you peel them back open to see only ten minutes have passed. You groan internally, moving to turn around when you’re met with the expanse of Junhui’s back in your face as he’s turned away from you. He's relaxed; the fit of his shirt stretched against the broad expanse of his shoulders but looser at his slim waist. You allow yourself to ogle him, a sigh falling from your lips as you close your eyes again.  

“Can’t fall asleep?” His voice is low, but there’s a hint of teasing in it. You roll your eyes even though he can’t see them, making a noise of affirmation soft enough to be confused with another sigh – your pride not able to handle confirming your troubles to him. “How can I help?”  

“Just...lay there.” You mutter back, and he lets out a defeated sound before turning around again to face you. You don’t bother opening your eyes, but you can feel his arms brush yours as he crosses them in front of him and adjusts into the mattress. A moment passes, the words slipping from your lips like an admission of sin – full of guilt and you regret them almost immediately.  

“Minghao usually holds me.”   “Does he kiss your forehead goodnight, too, princess?”  

You scoff, burying your chin into your chest, “you fucking asked.”   

He says nothing, only extending his arm under your head and shuffling closer. You stiffen at the contact, before feeling him pull your leg over his hip. His hand is cool against your thigh, barely breaching your pajama shorts before he quickly pulls it away. He rests it around your waist, his fingertips tracing patterns into your back as his other hand brings the extra pillow behind you  

“Just relax.”   “I’m relaxed.”   “You’re stiff as a board.”  

You feel your cheeks hot as you attempt to loosen up, every hair on your body standing up at the proximity. You peel an eye open to look at him, his own closed as he speaks again, “you won’t fall asleep looking at me.”  

“Do you really think I’m uptight?” You whisper, and he raises a brow before opening his eyes.  

“You’re worried about that at...four-twelve in the morning?”   “I’m always worried about how I'm perceived.”  

You nibble on your lip, earning a soft sigh from him as he pats your back gently. Almost awkwardly, before he gives you a pointed look.  

“My first impression of you still stands, if that’s of any comfort.” He says carefully, and you must look confused because he shrugs as much as he can before clicking his tongue. “After everything happened in Boston, I came to Manhattan because I was hoping Jihyo would take a chance on me. Everywhere I walked in this neighborhood, I saw posters of you and followed them here. I thought, if a trapezist is the face of this circus, the routines must be out of this world. And I was right, because I watched everyone perform for an entire weekend two weeks before Minghao got hurt and I saw just how much chemistry the two of you had in the ring...but you were absolutely captivating. The leotards, the expressions, the movements. You really, truly are a star out there. You’re a great performer, and you’re beautiful...in and out of your element.”  

You can’t look at him as he sighs, clicking his tongue.  

“But you prove time and time again that you have no idea who you are if you’re not performing. You have no idea who you are without Minghao, or Jihyo, or the circus. That’s why you think this is all you have, that’s why you have certain types of chemistry with different people on the team that you don’t have with others. Just like you don’t shy away from anyone the way you do with me, and it’s not because you’re not used to new people, either.”  

“I know who I am,” you whisper, staring at his chest. Your voice is small, but his hand squeezes your hip gently before he shakes his head, “no, you don’t. Your whole life is this place...you said it yourself.”  

“What kind of chemistry do I have with the others?” You ask, wanting to change the subject quickly. You can tell he catches on as he drums his fingers against your hip, humming slightly.  

“You and Minghao have an undeniable connection, but it’s definitely waned over the years and went from one type of connection to another. You and Soonyoung are like a constant lover’s quarrel, and you and Mingyu are like a divorced couple that mutually agreed it was time to end things.” He shrugs, “which is why I'm not surprised that all of you have history in some way or another. It’s not hard to realize when two people have slept together, you know. It just takes a little observation.”  

“You’re presumptuous.”  “And I’m right.” 

“What makes you think that I’ve slept with them?” You mutter, your tone almost bitter as he pats your hip.  

“The fact that you’re not refuting it, but also that Minghao is so comfortable touching you and you allow it. I had to hold you for practice yesterday and you almost bit my head off.” He says plainly, “do you just not trust me?”  

“I do.” You pick at your nails, holding your hands between your bodies as he lets out a weak laugh, “I do, Junhui. I swear. I just...I’m not used to you.”  

“I’ve known you for fifteen days and I’m already in your bed. I’d say you’re pretty used to me.”   “Did you just call me easy?”   “You’re a lot of things, but easy isn’t one of them. Trust me, I know easy.”  

“That makes you sound like you’re easy.” Your voice is annoyed, only for him to chuckle as he shrugs.  

“Why would I play hard to get when I want it just as much? Seems like a waste.”  

You suck your teeth, peering up at him through your lashes, “what else have you observed about me?”  

He shifts, “not much.”  

“Bullshit.”   “Yeah.”  

He smiles cheekily as you roll your eyes, limply hitting your fist against his shoulder, “Junhui, come on.”  

“Mmh, I don’t know. You get goosebumps when we’re too close to each other. You bumped into me the other day during the team meeting and didn’t apologize, but you didn’t look like you could speak, either.” He purses his lips, letting out a low whistle, “you don’t hold eye contact with me, so I avoid making it because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”  

“Do you really sleep with a new girl every time you go out?” You blurt, earning a lopsided smirk as he shakes his head.  

“No. Sometimes I just want a drink, or I go out to clear my head.”   “Then why are you out until four in the morning?”   “Clearing my head of you takes time, princess.”  

He closes his eyes, seemingly closing the floor for conversation – but you ask anyway.  

“Me?”   “Yes. You. Go to sleep.”   “But I–”  

He leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline before resting his chin lightly on your head, “go to sleep, pretty girl. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”  

The room falls silent as he pulls you closer, and you hate how the heat of his body against yours makes you feel fuzzy. You hate how you can feel his lips against your skin and how you don’t mind it, how you wouldn’t mind him kissing you again – but with intent, and preferably, lower.  

“Goodnight, princess.”   “...Goodnight, Junhui.”  

There is a shift between you and Junhui the next morning, and he can tell. 

You’re quiet – you hand him things off the breakfast table without asking, things he likes. The peach yoghurt, the string cheese, you move quickly and with purpose as you make your plate and Mingyu’s, who is actively trying to fight you for it. Your hands hover over Minghao’s favorites, only to pull them away and grab utensils before moving away. Mingyu manages to take both plates from you at the end of the breakfast table, and you follow him without a word. 

You keep the wall up throughout the morning. Mingyu asks you on several occasions if you’re alright, even Soonyoung presses his hand to your forehead before you swat him away and insist that you’re fine. Chan’s eyes are focused as he watches the two of you run a routine he’d choreographed to Feel Something by Jaymes Young a few months back – admittedly, with you and Minghao in mind. 

Junhui wonders if he’ll ever measure up. 

He stops wondering just as fast – holding you close to him while you’re both suspended in the air, your fingernails digging into his shoulders in a way that feels sinful. Your breathing is ragged against him as you move through the routine, ending with your knees wrapped around the upper part of the hoop and him curved on the inside of the hoop – your faces millimeters away from each other, so close he can feel your breath on his lips. 

Soonyoung taunts you both for a kiss – only for Junhui to feel an odd twist in his stomach when you seem to consider it as the song ends. Your eyes trail his face, but you roll them just as quickly; opting to stare at the ring below you. 

You don’t look at him as you both reach the ground, only muttering a soft thank you when he pulls you off the hoop carefully. You rub at your knees vigorously, the tape peeling back from your hand as you do so. 

“That’s lunch.” Mingyu calls over his shoulder, but Junhui watches as you ignore him and plop down on the bleachers. Your chest heaves with deep breaths as you peel the ripped tape off your hands, eyes watching everyone file out. Junhui lingers at the end of the line, letting the door close in front of him and leaning against the frame as you reach for the tape left behind by Seungkwan on the bleachers. You rip the end up, wrapping your wrists quickly and tearing the end off with your teeth – stretching your arms over your head with a pained grunt and rolling your shoulders back twice.  

He’s not sure you can see him – the edges of the arena dim and he’s dressed in all black. He uses the shadows to his advantage as he leans into them, the frustration radiating off your body practically tangible as you grab one of the ropes and tug on it harshly. You let it pull you into the air, your hand grabbing a hoop and flipping through it – curling your knees around the metal and letting it glide you around the arena, your eyes closed as you swung upside down. The creak of the hoop hinges at the top of the arena are the only sound aside from the thwip of your movements – and Junhui finds himself biting back a smile as you flip back into the hoop, wrapping your arms and gripping the metal tightly as you spun like a top on your descend. 

You let out a loud sigh as you slowed to a stop, almost a sound of relief to Junhui’s ears. You lolled your head back, crossing your ankles before carefully unwrapping yourself from the hoop and hopping down. You run a hand through your hair, dropping it to settle both on your hips as you walk back to the bleachers, a sway in your hips reeking of subtle satisfaction. 

“Sidney Kim, right?” 

You jump, your eyes wide as a hand flies to your chest – looking around when Junhui decides to step back into the light. Huffing, your hand drops and you sit on the bleachers with furrowed brows. You bring your hand to your mouth, tearing the tape with your teeth and peeling it off. 

“Or is it Nina Jeanine? 1992 Cirque du Lune, right?”  “What are you doing here?”  “Wondering why you’re not eating lunch.” 

“Stop worrying about me, it’d do you well.” You reply, tossing the scraps of tape into the garbage back at the end of the bleachers. You roll your wrists, and Junhui only steps closer, leaning against the opposite railing of the bleachers when you look up at him, “why aren’t you eating lunch?” 

“Practice what you preach.”  “It’s my job to worry about you.” 

He smiles, “no it isn’t.” 

Silence settles in the arena as you stare at each other – almost like two cats sizing each other up. You falter first, opting to look away as you grab for the tape again, “Nina Jeanine.” 

“Figured.”  “What are you really doing here?” 

“What I said I was, princess. Wondering why you’re beating yourself up in here instead of eating lunch, of which we now have only forty minutes left of.” He points at the clock on the wall. Your shoulders stiffen, “I’m just blowing off some steam. Go ahead, I’ll catch up.” 

“Blowing off steam...for what? We’re on track with everything. Ticket sales are at an all-time high. We could practically do the routine in our sleep...what is there to blow off steam for?” Junhui raises a brow as you seemingly bristle, your fingernail picking at the roll of tape before you set it down and stand up. You cross your arms on your chest as you plaster on a smile, “let’s go. Lunch awaits us.” 

Junhui sucks his teeth as you walk past him, his hand darting out and grabbing your elbow gently. You don’t stiffen, limply allowing him to pull you back and sit you down on the bleachers. He moves to kneel in front of you, his hands settling on either side of you as he looks at your face. Stress is weaved between your brows, the pad of his thumb coming to rub between them. 

“I’m fine.”  “You’re a shit liar. Add that to my list of impressions about you.” 

You tongue your cheek, swatting his hand away from your face. Your hands are clasped in your lap, but you pick at your fingernails as Junhui drums his fingers against your knees. He takes his time to look at you, gingerly placing his hands over yours to stop your fidgeting – and you meet his eyes, your own full of stress. 

“Is it because Soonyo—”  “He’s so fucking annoying. I don’t have to kiss everyone I do a routine with. Then I’m just the Lucky Star with an emphasis on lucky.” 

Junhui bites back his smile, the pout on your lips full of frustration as you huff, “he wants to act like he knows something, when he doesn’t. I don’t need the entire city of Manhattan to see me kiss someone, just for ratings and applause. It feels fake, and I’m no phony.” 

“We could kiss now.” 

You roll your eyes, “shut the fuck up.” 

“We could, though.” Junhui shrugs, gesturing to the room around you both. “It’s just you and me. No lights, no audience...no pressure. And no one has to know, just us.” 

Your lips are pressed into a thin line, raking your eyes over his face, “that’s not fair to Minghao.” 

“You’re not dating Minghao.”  “You don’t know that.” 

“I know a lot of things, princess. You and Minghao broke up years ago.” Junhui speaks pointedly, his hands cupping your knees with a soft pat, “think about it, because it doesn’t sound like you’re all that against actually kissing me.” 

He leans forward a bit, watching the way you furrow your brows deeper as his nose brushes yours, “I’d kiss you, if you wanted. Just like this.” 

The air is thick around the two of you, his eyes scanning your face and the way you’re considering it. The way you’re thinking about it – before you shake your head. 

“I can’t do that to Minghao.”  “Of course, princess. Just putting it out there.” 

He smiles, patting your knees again, “lunch. Now.” 

He stands up, dusting his knees as you do the same, folding your hands behind your back. You walk in front of him, your pace slow and deliberate as you glance over your shoulder – looking directly at the hoop hanging in the middle of the ring. 

“It’s too intimate.” You say suddenly, facing him with a quick turn of your heel. “It’s too intimate, to kiss someone I work with and know that I have a hard time separating business and pleasure.” 

“It doesn’t have to be more.” 

“That’s the problem,” you click your tongue, shaking your head before turning back on your heel. “You’re right about a lot of things, Wen Junhui. I’ve never thought I’d admit to that.” 

“Like?” 

“I don’t know who I am when I’m not performing.” You reach the door, shaking your head as he stands behind you. Almost too close, it seems – and you confirm it when you turn around as you cross your arms on your chest. He can barely see your face in the dimness, but there’s a sparkle in your eye that wasn’t there earlier, and something about it makes him giddy. 

“I can fix that.” He leans slightly closer, before feeling your hands ghost over his chest. He tilts his head at you, the warmth of your breath hitting his throat as he looks down. “What else?” 

“I’m not here to feed your ego.”  “Mmh, but you wanna.”  “Shut up.”  

He thinks you roll your eyes, turning around and moving to push the door when he snakes his arm around your waist. You easily give, letting him pull your back into his chest – the smell of your perfume, warm and citrusy, filling his nose as he pins you against the door. You lean your head back, the gloss of your eyes visible in the dim lighting. 

“Don’t tell me you’re falling for me, princess.” His voice is low in your ear, his fingers lightly digging into your hip as you huff out a humorless laugh. You splay your hand over his, “no, I don’t swoon easily. Took Minghao a year to even get in my good graces, and another to be my boyfriend.” 

“So, you did date him.”  “Don’t give up hope, hotshot.” 

“Just say you want me. It won’t kill you.” Junhui whispers as you twist out of his hold, your hands pushing against the door but not enough to open it as you peer up at him. 

“I do.” You seemingly shrug, a stream of light bleeding in from the way you crack the door open, “but I love my job more than I’ll ever want you...so let’s stay out of each other’s way. Cool?” 

You don’t give him a chance to respond – but it’s a challenge. You mean it as one; he can tell as you smile brightly at everyone, leaving Junhui in the shadows as the door closes in front of him. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, peering over his shoulder at the barely swinging hoop. “Cool.” 

Your friends set you on blind dates, you tried dating apps, your family try to set you up with random guys, but it was clear you had no intention or interest to date, it's not just the idea of communicating, your friends been bringing their own toxic relationships, the women of the family listing off reasons their husbands are incompetent pieces of shit when you were a kid, the ‘he just likes you’ when a boy was mean to you, you practically learned from other women relationships that men are emotionally incapable, useless husbands, shit in bed, it was clear as a day, that you were gonna be the crazy cat lady everyone will avoid when you reach your fifties but that was way better than having to look after kids and a man that does nothing around the house, technically being more of a servant than a wife–a partner. While you are against the idea of dating, you don't really mind going on dates, it's fun when your friends are once again trying to tell you to be nicer or better with treating these men, but why should you? You have a stable career, warm food, nice house, the kind of cars people stare at, you don't consider yourself upper class but you're not exactly middle class either, you've worked hard to get your position in the company you're working at as an executive, technically the boss, since everyone depends on you, you control the company, the ceo trusts you and does everything you ask him, you had him under your fingers. Getting paid a very good amount of money, to buy all you want and still have some extra money to save up in case times get intense.

This time your friend sends you an app for rich people to spoil their matches which is usually a lower class in exchange of good time

“You can use this” She sends with a wink emoji making you roll your eyes.

“I don't need a sugar daddy” you send.

“Who said you'll be the sugar baby?” She sends. Is she serious? You raise an eyebrow at the message

“Then why send me this?” You send, silence for a moment

“Well, you can be the sugar mommy, you know” you scoff at this text. But enter the website anyway, it's just like any dating app, you'll text for a bit then forget about each other after a while.

The website looked basic asking about name,age, email, phone number, all the basic information.

Then it starts getting a bit weird.

Sugar daddy/mommy or sugar baby?

Dom/sub/ switch?

Is this some sort of kink…? You raise an eyebrow as you click switch, then it asks you to set your account, putting photos, interests and some information about yourself. You exit the site completely forgetting about it the next day.

A week passes when your friend asks you about how it went , face palming when you confess you haven't checked it since you signed in.

When you go back home you decide to check on it, revealing hundreds of notifications and matches, you sigh , going through some of them, some of them straight up sending dick pics, others asking to see how you look– since your photos are all faceless, I mean why bother sharing your face in a site filled with such creeps? You scoff as you keep scrolling, noticing one user

‘Hyuckie’ is that seriously his name? You chuckle slightly, checking his account to see that he likes video games, food and music.

His photos also faceless, so you decide to check his message.

“Hi?”

“Hello” you send back, a few minutes pass before he answers.

“Sorry I was just playing I didn't see the message” he sends

“That's fine” you send

“Is your name really hyuckie?” You send as you chuckle slightly behind the camera.

“Oh it's just a nickname” he sends

“Alright hyuckie, how old are you exactly?your age wasn't there” You send

“Oh I'm 25” he sends

“Oh you're quite young” you send.

You two keep talking for a while before going to bed for work tomorrow.

You walk into your office, drinking your morning coffee and go through documents, after a while a knock rings your ear.

“Come in” you hum, the door opens and walks in the new intern, well not really new, he's been here for a month.

“Oh haechan? What is it?” You raise an eyebrow

“I- Well I deleted the new presentation by mista-”

“What?” You ask

“Did you just say it's a mistake? Is your head empty? Fucking hell haechan!”

“I'm sorry miss I swear, I'll do it again by time”

“Shut up, just get the hell out.” you yell, you glance at his teary eyes before he leaves and closes the door

“Fucking stupid intern” you whisper and continue working, trying to focus instead of ruining your damn day over some intern.

After work you go home and run to bed feeling the labour of the day finally getting to you.

You open your phone to find a message from hyuckie

“Hey y/n!” He sends

“Oh hello hyuckie, how was your day?”

“It was good I guess”

“What do you mean?” You frown a bit

“well, my boss yelled at me” he sends

“Oh you poor thing, that's horrible” you send

The conversation continues he complains a bit about work and how hard it is.

Haechan walks into your office after you give him permission with a small smile on his face

“The presentation is done” you raise an eyebrow

“Already?” You ask, he nods

“I'll just have to transfer it to your email so you proof read it” you nod dismissively

As you walk to your car a notification pops up making a vibrating noise in your bag, it was ‘hyuckie’

“Can we meet up?” You raise an eyebrow, you've known him for what? Three days?

“You're so eager to meet me?” You tease

“Send me your address?” He sends

You stare at the message a bit scared but after a few moments you send him your address before driving home.

After you arrive home after a half hour or so the door bell rings. You go open the door

“Hello-” you look at the face revealed to you–haechan?

“Oh?” He looks at the home number and looks back at you

“This must be a mistake sorry” he mumbles, now it does make sense of course hyuckie donghyuck

“Hyuckie?” You speak out suddenly, he turns around to face you again

“Y-yes?” He says and swallows nervously

“Come in haechan” you say, your voice smooth

“So what were you doing on that site?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Well..I could ask you the same thing” he says.

“Well I was bored, it was for fun” you shrug

“I- well I need money.” He says.

“Don't you get paid enough?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No, not really, you don't get paid so well as an intern” he says mockingly.

“Well I'm here now, you need money?” You ask and he nods

“And the money is for..?” You say

“I need to pay my rent” he says looking at the floor

“Okay but we need to set rules first okay?” You say and he nods

“First rule : no one at work knows about this , and if a soul knows about it, I'll have you fired” you threaten

“Second rule : you obey me okay? It's not like I'd make you do vile shit, just listen to me and don't be a brat”

“Third rule : feel free to back out whenever you want” you shrug

“Can I say something too..?” He asks, his fingers fiddling with his sleeves and you hum

“Can you like..be less strict at work?” He asks and you nod.

You pour him a glass of wine and look him up and down, he was wearing black shorts that reached mid thigh revealing his tanned skin and a white shirt. His hair was a bit messy but he looked adorable anyways.

“So what do we do now?” He asks

“Well we can't do anything you're not comfortable with” you shrug and sit next to him and notice him squirming slightly.

“Well we can start now” you say and grip his chin, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

“Oh come on look at me, isn't it enough you fucked up at work?” You scoff, his cheek felt on fire , turning light pink, making him look cuter, his eyes finally meeting yours, biting his plump bottom lip, you lean in your breath ghosting on his face as your lips lean in to meet his, he leans into the kiss, your rest your hands on his hips as you guide him to lay on the couch and get on top of him, his breath hitches quietly as you lean in and kiss him again, his lips warm and plump, his arms snake around your waist and holds you onto him to feel his hardness, and it earns a whimper from him, and oh boy wasn't it the best thing you've heard in your life, you move your hips over him so your core grinds over his cock, making him spill a pretty series of whimpers and moans.

“P-please touch me” he looks up at you with big shiny eyes, looking at you so innocently.

You unzip his pants and remove it with his boxers getting rid of them revealing his hard length already spilling from the pink tip , you spread the precum over his tip and he moans weakly and it makes your knees buckle, you start stroking him your hand going up and down his length and his words became incoherent his voice slurring as he tries to come, reaching his high, he finally comes all in your hand as he breathes heavily sweat dripping down his neck, you lean down and kiss him again.

Your relationship improves, you take him out in expensive restaurants sometimes, buying him expensive clothes by big brands? You spoiled him badly, sometimes he'd act like a brat and that would end up with him getting a few spanks from you until he decides to apologise sincerely and properly. But your relationship in work remains very professional, you do treat him better than before, but it was subtle so no one really tells. In meetings he's attentive and takes notes and you obviously have to praise him for it later when you're alone.

Back at your house you pull him into the bedroom, pushing him onto the bed and help him remove his clothes and then remove your own, getting on top of him placing kisses along his neck and collarbone as he whimpers prettily.

“Please please mommy please let me be inside you” he says desperately and you hum giving him permission to make his dick inside you, feeling your warm walls around him, you roll your eyes and moan slightly at the moment of pleasure that surged over you, he moans se softly looking so pretty, you lean down and kiss him gently but it turns firm, both your tongues fighting for dominance , you pull away , his hands gripping your hips as he bucks his hips upwards , hitting the sweet spot that makes you on the verge of release, he closes his eyes as tears fill his eyes, making desperate noises as he reaches his high , but he couldn't dare to come first , he feels your walls clench around his cock as you come all over him and he doesn't last much longer before his own release , both of you were sweating and panting like crazy, he pulls out and you slide off him laying next to him.

“I'll send you money later” you hum

you were in your early twenties now, and you still saw him as that kid.

how could you not?

riki had perfected the art of the dramatic sigh, the pout that threatened to take over his entire face, the way he’d flop onto your couch as if his bones had been removed.

he was also, you noted with amused affection, that he was spectacularly bad at hiding his crush on you. it was so big, so blatant, it had looped back around to being endearing instead of serious.

you figured it was a leftover hero-worship thing, mixed with the fleeting intensity of being a teenager.

it’s okay. he’d grow out of it.

“you’re late,” you said without looking up from your book as your apartment door clicked open.

you’d given him a key years ago, for emergencies. he’d interpreted it as a blanket invitation for all hours.

“traffic was a spiritual trial,” riki declared, his voice still holding that unique timbre — a low rumble that could, mid-sentence, crack into something brighter.

you heard the shuffle of him toeing off his shoes, the familiar thump of his bag hitting the floor.

“my suffering is immense.”

“your suffering is because you take the bus two stops instead of walking for ten minutes,” you said, finally glancing over.

riki was leaning against the doorframe, pretending to be nonchalant.

he’d done something to his hair, you noticed. it was artfully messy, falling in soft waves over his forehead. he was wearing a nice sweater, one that clung to his shoulders — broadening shoulders, a traitorous part of your brain supplied — and dark jeans.

he looked good. really good.

which was exactly why you had to double down on the babying. acknowledging the 'really good' would open doors you’d firmly welded shut.

“come here, you big baby,” you said, putting your book aside and opening your arms in a clear invitation for a hug. it was your standard greeting. “tell me about this spiritual trauma.”

he didn’t need to be asked twice.

riki crossed the room in a few quick strides, but instead of the full-bodied tackle-hug he’d given you at sixteen, he sort of folded himself into you. he was taller now, so he had to bend down, his chin hooking over your shoulder. you wrapped your arms around his torso, giving him a solid, warm squeeze, patting his back firmly three times — a brotherly there, there.

he melted instantly.

you could feel it, the way his whole frame went pliant against you, the way he inhaled deeply, as if trying to steal the very air from your lungs. his own arms wrapped around you, tight, almost too tight, and riki held on for a beat longer than what was normal for friends.

you just chuckled and ruffled the hair at the back of his head before pulling away.

“okay, okay, let me breathe, kiddo,” you grinned, swatting his arm lightly.

the familiar endearment made riki’s smile flicker slightly, just for a nanosecond. but he recovered, following you to the couch.

he didn’t sit next to you. he sat into you, collapsing sideways so his head was in your lap and his long legs dangled over the arm of the couch in a ridiculous, ungraceful sprawl.

“you’re a human sloth,” you laughed, but your hand went automatically to his hair.

it was so soft, just as you’d imagined.

riki let out a shuddering sigh that was only half-performative, his eyes fluttering shut. this was the routine. this was the dance. he would seek physical contact with the desperation of a man in a desert, and you would provide it, framed firmly in the context of platonic, almost brotherly affection.

you slowly traced the shell of his ear with your thumb, a mindless, comforting gesture you’d already done a thousand times.

“i’m not a baby,” riki mumbled into your thigh, the words muffled by the fabric of your sweatpants.

he turned his face slightly, nuzzling against you. it was a move that screamed affectionate puppy, and it solidified your worldview perfectly.

“could’ve fooled me,” you said, your fingers now carding gently through the strands at his temple. “you still pout when the convenience store runs out of your favorite strawberry milk. and your ears go all red when you’re embarrassed. it’s cute.”

riki groaned, but it was a sound of pure pleasure at your touch masquerading as annoyance.

“stop. i’m not cute.”

“you’re the cutest,” you said absently, your attention half on the TV you’d just turned on.

you pinched his cheek lightly, making him swat at your hand without any real force.

riki caught your wrist, holding it for a moment, his long fingers warm against your skin. he didn’t let go immediately, just turned his head to press his lips, quick and soft, against your palm before releasing it.

you blinked, but wrote it off as another one of his quirky, affectionate gestures — riki was always tactile with you. you knew this. it didn’t mean anything.

but it did to him.

every single point of contact with you was a lit match thrown onto the dry tinder of his feelings. the hug, the hair ruffling, the lap-pillow, the casual caresses — they were heaven and hell. riki craved them with a physical ache, memorizing the feeling of your hand in his hair, the solid warmth of your body under his cheek, the sound of your heartbeat so close.

at the same time, each touch was a brand that marked him as 'just a kid', 'just a friend', 'harmless'.

he hated it. he loved it. he was addicted to it.

riki had been trying to win you over for years. it wasn’t just the gifts or the memorized facts. it was in the way he looked at you when you weren’t watching — a gaze so full of naked adoration it should have set off alarms. it was in the way he’d subtly shift his posture when you were around, trying to appear broader, more solid. it was in the way he’d laugh a little too hard at your jokes, hang on your every word about spreadsheets or grocery shopping as if it were profound poetry.

he’d study the types of people you dated (never for long, a fact that gave him a dangerous amount of hope) and try to morph himself into some hybrid of them, while still being the riki you knew. he’d practice conversations in the mirror, imagining scenarios where he’d finally say the right thing and you’d see him — really see him.

and you’d just smile, ruffle his hair, and say, “you’re too sweet, kiddo.”

the 'kiddo' was the cruelest knife twist every single time. he’d go home and scream into his pillow, equal parts frustrated and lovesick.

“i was thinking,” riki said now, his voice quiet but strained.

he’d opened his eyes and was staring at the ceiling, his body tense despite your petting.

“a dangerous pastime.”

he nudged your leg with his head.

“shut up. i was thinking… we should go to that new izakaya downtown. this weekend. like, a dinner thing. just the two of us,” riki emphasized the last part, his heart hammering against his ribs.

there it was again. the carefully casual invitation that was a battlefield flag. you sighed, a fond, exasperated sound.

you shifted, sliding out from under him so you could sit up and look at him properly. riki made a small, bereft noise at the loss of contact. you reached over and squeezed his knee.

“riki,” you said, your voice gentle, placating. “you know i love hanging out with you. but an izakaya? that’s like… a date spot. you should save that for someone special, not your old buddy.”

you gave his knee another pat.

riki stared at your hand on his leg, then up at your face. the hope that had been flickering in his eyes guttered out, replaced by a deep, weary hurt.

“you are someone special,” he said, his voice flat.

“aw, you know what i mean.”

you leaned forward and pulled him into a sideways hug, his head against your chest. you rocked him slightly, like you were comforting a child who’d scraped his knee.

“you’ll meet some amazing person at college who’ll sweep you off your feet, and you’ll forget all about dragging your boring old friend to fancy dinners.”

riki was rigid in your arms.

the words weren’t just a rejection; they were a complete erasure of his reality. four years of love, dismissed as a childish phase waiting to be outgrown.

he pulled back from the hug, your arms falling away. the movement was slow, deliberate. riki didn’t look at you. he ran a hand through his perfectly messy hair, ruining it. the air in the room felt charged, thick.

“riki?” you asked, the unease turning into a cold trickle.

“i don’t need you to set me up with some imaginary amazing person,” he said, his voice low and terrifyingly calm. “and i don’t need you to rock me like a baby when i’m trying to tell you how i feel.”

“hey, come on, don’t be like that,” you said, trying for a light tone but missing badly. “i’m just saying—”

“you’re just not listening!”

riki exploded, surging to his feet. he loomed over you, his height suddenly intimidating.

“you never listen! you just pat and hug and ruffle and smother me in this… this affectionate concrete so you don’t have to actually see what’s right in front of you!”

you stood up too, instinct pushing you to meet his energy. “see what? that you have a crush? yeah, riki, i’m not blind! it’s cute! it’s flattering! but it’s not serious!”

the word hung between you like a physical blow.

riki flinched as if you’d just slapped him. his breathing hitched, and for a second you thought he might cry. but his eyes, glassy with unshed tears, burned with a fury you’d never seen.

“not serious,” he repeated, the words a whisper.

then, a dam broke.

“i have rearranged my entire life around you. i chose my college based on its proximity to you. i learned to cook the dishes you like. i know your coffee order, your blood type, your stupid, irrational fear of garden gnomes. i have loved you when i was a pimply teenager and i love you now, when i’m taller than you and my voice is deep and i could probably lift you over my head if i wanted to. i love you when you’re happy and when you’re a grumpy mess in the morning. i love you so much it feels like my ribs are too small to contain it. and you call it not serious?”

each sentence was a hammer blow, shattering your carefully constructed perception. the college choice. the cooking. the damn garden gnomes.

oh, my god.

the absolute, all-consuming scale of it.

you were speechless. you just stared at him, your mouth slightly open, your mind reeling.

riki saw your stunned silence. the fury bled out of him, leaving only a vast, empty vulnerability. he had nothing left. no more strategies, no more hints, no more patient waiting. he was laid bare, and you were just staring.

so he did the only thing he had left — the only one thing he knew could never be interpreted as brotherly, or cute, or childish.

riki stepped forward, closing the small gap between you. his hands came up, not for a hug, but to frame your face. his touch was so gentle, but there was also a slight tremble in his fingers. his eyes searched yours, seeing the shock, the confusion, but — crucially — no disgust. no immediate push away.

“this,” he whispered, his voice raw with conviction. “this is serious.”

and just like that, riki kissed you.

it wasn’t aggressive. the first press of his soft lips against yours was timid, questioning, achingly soft. a please. a see? a this is my whole heart, right here.

your brain completely short-circuited.

the sensory input was overwhelming: the softness of his lips, slightly chapped; the faint, clean scent of his skin this close; the warmth of his palms on your cheeks; the absolute stillness of his body, waiting for your reaction.

riki pulled back a millimeter, his breath fanning over your mouth. his eyes were wide, terrified, pleading.

and something in you, some deep, instinctual part that had maybe known all along but had been too afraid to acknowledge, surged forward. your hands came up, one gripping his wrist where he held your face, the other fisting in the soft wool of his sweater at his hip.

it was all the answer he needed.

riki made a broken, grateful sound against your mouth and kissed you again.

this time, it was not timid — it was deep, intoxicating, and utterly devastating in its sincerity. there was no technique, just pure, unfiltered feeling. riki’s lips moved over yours with a kind of frantic wonder, then slowed as he felt you begin to move yours in tentative response. it was messy, a little off-center, and so profoundly real it made your knees weak.

this was riki. not the kid you babysat, but the young man who carried a torch for you so bright it had lit up his entire being for years.

you could taste it on him — the years of longing, of yearning, the sweetness of his hope, the sharp tang of his fear. his tongue shyly traced your bottom lip, and you opened for him, the intimacy of it sparking through your entire nervous system.

one of riki’s hands slid from your face into your hair, fingers tangling at the nape of your neck, holding you to him as if you might vanish. the other arm wrapped around your back, pulling your body flush against his. you could feel the solid, unyielding plane of his chest, the rapid thundering of his heart echoing your own. riki was taller, and he was leaning down, bending to you, but there was nothing submissive about it.

it was possessive, reverent, and fiercely tender.

the world dissolved into sensation: the slick heat of his mouth, the slight scratch of his sweater against your chin, the quiet, desperate sounds he was making in the back of his throat. you were kissing him back now, fully, your own hands sliding up his back, learning the new, mature geography of him.

this wasn’t babying. this was meeting him, finally, on level ground.

when you finally broke apart for air, it was a ragged, mutual gasp. your foreheads rested together, noses brushing. his eyes were closed, his long lashes wet with the tears that had finally escaped. riki was breathing as if he’d just surfaced from deep water.

you were the first to speak, your voice a hoarse, awed whisper. “okay.”

riki’s eyes flew open. they were red-rimmed but blazing with a light you’d never seen before.

“okay?” he breathed, the word fragile.

“okay,” you confirmed, your grip on his sweater tightening. “i see you. i… i believe you.”

you brushed your thumb over his kiss-swollen bottom lip, a gesture entirely new in its intimacy.

“no more babying.”

a sob escaped riki, but it was followed by the most brilliant, unguarded, heart-stopping smile you’d ever seen in your entire life. it was pure, undiluted joy, and it was all for you.

“good,” he choked out, before surging forward to capture your lips again, this kiss softer, sweeter, laced with overwhelming relief.

he broke it to bury his face deep in your neck, his arms locking around you in a hug that was different from any before. it wasn’t a kid seeking comfort anymore. it was a man claiming his place.

“because i meant it. every word. i’m not letting go.”

you held him just as tightly, your face pressed into his soft hair, the truth settling over you, warm and terrifying and right. the puppy love was a lie. this was the real thing, and it had been waiting for you all along.

you’d just been too busy patting its head to notice it had grown up.

🪭 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 <𝟯 !!

"Son of a bitch," you grumbled, taking out your phone. You dialed your mate and it predictably rang a few times before he answered with a curt, "The fuck you want?"

The mere sound of his voice had your knees weak. You bit your lip, your rage spiking at his tone before quickly diffusing, because you were hyper aware that you needed him to soothe the ache in your body. "Um, where are you?"

"Don't worry about it."

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you pressed, "Do you feel... okay?"

"Aside from being pissed the fuck off, yeah, I'm fan-fucking-tastic."

You smirked. He was raging and hadn't yet realized it was the rising hormones. "If I apologize, will you come home?"

"Doesn't that kill the point of apologizing? You're just doing it because you want something."

He had you there. The boy could dance circles around you if he wanted. There was really only one thing you had that he couldn't defeat, and you weren't afraid to use it.

"Maki," you started in your softest, sweetest tone. "I need you to come home to me."

There was a tiny pause, followed by Maki asking suspiciously, "Why are you talking like that?"

You shifted your weight, trying to offset the tugging in your core. "Please, baby. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I promise... I'll be good."

Another pause. This one was much heavier.

You waited, hearing every breath that passed in and out of his mouth and wishing they were passing in and out of yours while he was on top of you, splitting you open with his...

"I'm on my way," Maki finally said, snapping you out of your dirty thoughts.

"Okay," you replied happily. "I may or may not be naked in the kitchen when you get here."

"Wait - what?" Maki exclaimed just as you hung up.

He'd never driven so fast in his entire life, the car roaring into the parking space. Maki tried to have some dignity, but all you had to say was "naked" and he was gone. Dignity never mattered where pussy was concerned. She always won.

Maki opened the front door, trying to look like he hadn't just sprinted up, and was disappointed to find you weren't actually in your birthday suit. It was worse. You were wearing one of his white tees with clearly nothing underneath, given he could see the peaks of your nipples through the material.

"Hi, baby," you said coyly, tucking some hair behind your ear.

Maki scowled. "You wanna explain why you picked a stupid ass fight with me earlier?"

Again, you had no clue what you fought about. Now you knew it was just churning hormones making you crabby. "I like when you get mad," you told him smoothly. "Turns me on."

Maki's lips parted, but no sound came out. He couldn't argue with that.

His eyes raked up and down your body. He loved your bare legs and he was imagining them spread as he buried his cock inside you. He lingered his gaze near the hem of the shirt, at the tops of your thighs, thinking about your warm, wet pussy underneath. He thought about his cum slipping out between your glistening folds.

By the look in his eyes, you knew you had Maki exactly where you wanted him. You began stalking toward your mate, predator closing in on unsuspecting prey, and ran your hand down his chest and then his abs, stopping your fingers at his belt.

Maki's breaths were coming faster and harder, much like his pulse. His cock twitched in his pants from your simple touch. "Are you trying to seduce me right now?" Maki asked shakily.

"As if I need to try."

Maki gulped. Heat was rushing up his neck and into his head. Fuck, why did you look so good and smell so good? The scent of you was so overwhelming. He just wanted to pump you full of his cum until you swelled up with his baby and... uh-oh, he thought.

"Goddammit," he groaned. "We're in heat!"

You giggled and nodded. "Yep."

Maki came in fast, about to stop your heart with a kiss, but you turned at the last second, putting your back to him and stepping away.

"You really think I'm that easy?" You brushed your hand over the counter and drummed your nails on it. "After the way you spoke to me...," you said, tsking your tongue.

Maki gawked in disbelief. "You started the fight!"

"So put me in my place then," you retorted, poking the wolf.

Maki's eyes burned into yours and you watched his whole body tense, a viper coiling to strike. The moment you saw the slightest movement, you bolted, sprinting across the room. Being a werewolf had its advantages, but none of them mattered when your mate was much stronger and faster than you.

You didn't get far, just shy of the bedroom door when Maki's arms wrapped around your waist and hoisted you into the air. He tossed you onto the bed none too gently and you bounced on the mattress, quickly getting your hands and feet under you to scurry away.

Maki chased you around the room until the two of you landed in a heap on the floor. You giggled through a very brief wrestling match, one you knew you would lose but enjoyed anyway, and your laughter shifted into a moan when a broad hand cupped your sex.

"Maki," you sighed, rubbing your ass against his crotch. "I need you so bad."

"I haven't even started with you yet."

"I don't care. I need it."

Maki rolled you onto your back and propped himself over you, getting comfortable between your legs. You hooked your thighs on his hips and tried to draw him closer with your ankles crossed behind his back, but he was busy searching your face, his eyes narrowed.

You groaned with impatience, "What are you waiting for?"

"You look like a wild animal," Maki replied with a little smile.

"I am," you practically growled, dragging your nails down his back. You arched into him, desperate for him to touch you already.

Maki's voice dropped to the lowest you'd ever heard when he said, "I'm gonna breed you."

You peered up at him, your pulse racing uncontrollably. You didn't think the vicious pulsing in your core could get any worse, but it did.

Maki nodded. "Yeah, baby. I think this is the one."

"Fuck," you rasped, swallowing to wet your throat, realizing you'd been panting. "I want it so bad, Maki. Please."

"Shh," Maki shushed you, stroking your cheek with a gentle finger to soothe you. "Look me in the eye."

You did.

"Take a deep breath. Get some of your mind back for a second."

"I can't. I'm burning alive."

Maki raked his eyes up and down your body. He could sense that. Hell, he could fucking smell it. His instincts were off the charts. You were radiating heat and arousal, dragging him toward madness. He knew he was on the cusp and time was of the essence.

"Are you ready?" Maki asked seriously. "You need to tell me now if this is what you want."

You grabbed his arms like you needed him to steady you to reality and said, "You know I want this. I've been thinking about it every day. You and me, and... our baby. I want that with you more than anything."

Fire lit in Maki's eyes and he slotted his lips to yours, somehow kissing you hard but tenderly at the same time. It snatched all the air out of your lungs and you kissed him back hungrily. Your mate broke from the kiss to say, "We're still young. We can wait a little longer if you want."

You shook your head vehemently, tangling your fingers in his hair. "No. I can feel it. It's time."

"I feel it too. But once we start, there's no stopping."

Good, because you didn't want him to stop. You were a heartbeat away from shoving him to the ground, impaling yourself on his dick, and riding a load out of him. But your body told that wasn't what you wanted, so instead, you flipped onto your hands and knees beneath him, immediately rocking back until your ass connected with his clothed dick, rock hard.

"Don't make me beg," you grumbled under your breath.

Maki looked down at you in position underneath him and his cock twitched, eager to be inside you. He roamed his hands under your shirt and over your ass, exposing your folds which were glistening. "You're wet already."

"I started getting wet during the fight," you confessed with a tiny laugh.

Maki grinned. "So that's what it was for."

"I didn't realize until you left."

Maki pushed your shirt all of the way until it was over your head, kissing down your spine as he went to work on his own clothes. You arched your back, spreading your arms out in front of you, remembering the bed was right next to you, but you liked the idea of Maki taking you on the floor.

You were shivering with impatience, wiggling underneath him. His kisses were loud on your neck and you purred submissively though you were anything but. Maki grabbed your hip and began raking his dick against your folds, getting a few desperate sounds out of you.

"Maki, I swear," you snapped, hormones agitating you again. "If you don't put it in, I'm gonna..."

Maki pressed the head of his cock into your entrance and pushed forward, cutting off your threat. The moment he bottomed out in your heat, he released the breath he'd been holding and taunted, "What was that?"

"Fuck you," you groaned, dropping your head to the floor and gripping handfuls of the carpet in your fists, because he felt bigger than ever in your pussy, stretching you out so good.

Maki grabbed your hips in his big hands and wasted no time pounding into you. It was primal in its rawest form. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room along with your endless whimpers and the occasional grunt or groan from Maki.

You wrapped around him so tight and hot that Maki winched his eyes closed, his jaw going slack, and moaned, sucking in a breath through his teeth when he snapped his cock inside you again, as deep as he could go. You took every stroke he had to give, throwing yourself back against him.

"You're so fucking tight," Maki said, his voice weak. "I'm gonna come."

His pace threw you off balance. It was all you could do to keep yourself in place to take his thrusts, gripping the carpet until your knuckles ached. You cried out when the head of his cock kissed your cervix, spreading your thighs farther apart and whimpering his name for mercy.

Maki bottomed out and suddenly stopped, his hands heavy on your waist.

You were panting uncontrollably and asked, "Why did you stop?"

"I don't want to put my baby in you like this."

Your eyes flickered with confusion, but in the next second, Maki pulled out of you and scooped you up into his arms. He set you down on your back in the bed and opened your thighs with his rough hands, guiding his cock back into your cunt and settling into a hard, but drawn out pace.

"Maki," you stammered, meeting his eyes and grabbing onto his arms. You gasped as his body collided into yours, dragging his dick against your sweet spot.

Maki stole a kiss, wet and hot and perfect, and whispered darkly, "Come for me. I'm not filling you up until you do."

You bit your lip, out of your mind with heat and lust. All you could think about was how perfectly he fit inside you, how you felt completely consumed by him. "I wanna have your baby," you said in a soft voice, like you were taking a vow.

"You will," Maki told you without missing a beat, his pace never falling out of sync, burying himself inside you.

Your eyes were burning. The pleasure was too much. It was building, made worse by Maki's hands on your body, kneading and caressing you as he pushed you to the edge. There was a dull pounding in your ears and your vision went out of focus. Heat was wrapping around your throat and smothering your heart until it skipped a beat and then another.

Had you not been in Maki's arms you would have been terrified that your body was giving out. Maki could sense and smell everything about you in the moment. Your scent peaked and he coaxed, "Give it to me, baby."

You dug your nails into Maki's back as you came, clamping your thighs on his hips and arching into the bed, your face contorting with ecstasy. You cried out his name and swore, your walls pulsing as your vision went white.

Maki's voice sounded like it was underwater, like you both were drowning together. He thrust his thick cock into you a few more times and then stilled, his body shaking on top of you while he filled you with his seed.

Coming down from the high, you could feel him swelling inside you, his groans and whimpers becoming clearer as the haze cleared. Both of you panted for breath, your bodies slick with sweat.

"Don't move," Maki said, his voice weak. "We're stuck."

You swallowed, rubbing your hands over his skin where you knew you'd left red crescents from your nails. You could feel him locked inside you where he belonged and hormones sent a rush of satisfaction through you, probably to keep you calm.

Maki shook his head, flipping his damp hair out of his eyes, and finally searched your face. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

You sighed, "I'm okay."

He looked down where your bodies connected and said, "Sorry. I don't know how long we'll be like this."

"I'm in no hurry."

Maki smiled bashfully, his cheeks rosy.

You met his eyes again and whispered, "Kiss me."

So what were a few parties if he could make a new friend? He could do this much.

That's what he thought until he came face to face with Yeonjun's friends and the constant teasing about him not drinking enough.

Waving his hand in the air, he refused yet another drink, staying with his can of coke. He had a few shots with them already, but their tolerance and speed was too much for him to handle. He needed those breaks. No matter how much everyone begged him to do another one with them.

"Come on, Soob," you encourage him, your eyes playful as you nudge him with your feet under the table. His eyes flicker to you immediately, hesitance written all over his face. "You owe me for the last one I took for you."

Drinking more is the last thing he wants to do. And despite how well he's been doing refusing all other Yeonjun's friends sitting at the table, you're the only one he can't say no to.

Reaching for the drink Taehyun poured a moment ago, he watches as your grin widens when you bring your own glass to his, everyone else following right after. But even though everyone is shouting "Cheers" over each other, you're the only one he sees.

He isn't sure why you have so much power of him. He's seen you a few times around the campus, but he's never spoke to you before today. There was no reason to. You didn't have any classes together and he had no idea you had a mutual friend either. Logically, there should be no reason as to why he'd listen to you when he's saying no to everyone else.

But as soon as you sat across from him and he locked eyes with you, he knew he was in trouble.

Seeing you up close for the first time, he couldn't deny how beautiful you are. Your clothes hugging your figure in a perfect way, your makeup making your eyes pop out and your hair styled in possibly the prettiest way he's ever seen. He was gone as soon as your eyes met his and you offered him one of your smiles.

Deep down he knows it sounds insane. That's how he feels as well. But how else other than love at first sight is he supposed to explain the way he sees everything but you blurry? How is he supposed to explain that he can no longer hear the music blasting all throughout Yeonjun's house or the loud cheers of his other friends? How is he supposed to explain his whole body aches to have you close to him every time he sees you brush hands with anyone else?

The alcohol is no good for him. He can't recall how many shots he'd had already, but it sure as hell is more than he's normally used to. He can't remember much from what happened in the past half an hour if he's honest. He knows he's been drinking with you, and that he's seen you laugh a lot, but he could not tell you anything that was said if his life depended on it.

He sees Yeonjun doing a body shot off another girl, licking her skin after. He sees Taehyun and Beomgyu do a love shot. He sees two girls Yeonjun introduced to him when he came in — but whose names he doesn't remember — kissing on the other side of the table. He sees you walking to him with a shot glass in one hand and an incredibly beautiful smile on you face.

Wait, what?

He blinks. What's happening? And since when are you not wearing any jacket over your little top?

"Soobie, it's your turn." The nickname makes his head spin more than the alcohol has already been doing, his eyes flickering all over your body as you stop beside his seat.

"Turn for?" He asks, unable to avert his eyes.

"Your dare. Have you not been listening?" You giggle quietly and the sound echoes in his ears. "Yeonjun picked yours."

He forces his eyes off you to look at his friend, finding him with a smug smirk on his lips and arms leaned on the table for support as he stands. He can't tell if he should hate or love this just yet.

"Come get on your knees."

There is at least three different scenarios in which he imagined you saying those exact words throughout the night, but in none of them were you doing it in front of the entire group. Despite the obvious fact that he's in no place to be like this, he feels his cock twitching in his pants. God dammit.

It's as if he was in trance, his feet moving on their own and standing up so he could step away from the table. You nod your head towards the floor in front of you and he drops down, on his knees just like you told him to. Closing the space between you, you glance to the rest of your friends before locking eyes with Soobin, the sight of him on the floor in front of you getting tattooed inside your head.

"Open," you command and he does, tilting his head back a little with his mouth wide open. He still has no idea what's coming, but for some reason he feels like it'll be okay since it's you with him. "Good boy," you grin, bringing the shot glass to his lips and pouring the soju down. The liquor slides down his throat, his eyes closing and his hands moving on their own to grab your thighs.

You don't say anything to stop him, simply watching him swallow the alcohol. Someone at the table whistles at the sight but all you can focus on is the way he groans while gripping the flesh of your thighs. His face is all red, the sound nothing if not desperate. Have you just unlocked a new version of him?

It seems like it. With the way he doesn't know what to do with himself as he opens his eyes again and finds you still standing in front of him, it only leads you to believe this is new for him. Your eyes trail down his body for the nth time tonight, his face and neck flushed, his shirt and tie messy from how much he's been tugging on it while drinking, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling of being suffocated, and the boner in his pants that makes you wonder if he's been like this all night.

Glancing to the side, you find your friends already occupied with someone else again, cheering on for Beomgyu to do whatever dare they came up with. Looks like it's just you and Soobin now.

You lean down to make sure he hears you even if you whisper. "Want to get out of here?" You feel him shiver under you, his fingers digging into your skin as a broken plead leaves his lips. Your smile grows at the sound.

You take his hand in yours, forcing him to stand on his feet again as you tug him towards the table, grabbing an almost empty bottle of soju. "I'll see you guys later!" It's only Yeonjun who looks at the two of you, giving you an encouraging nod before moving on. You didn't expect anything else from him. After all, he's the one who practically begged you to give a chance to his friend.

It was probably an hour in when you found yourself alone in the kitchen with Yeonjun and listened to him go on about how he is certain Soobin likes you, claiming something about a sixth sense. You didn't believe him at first. Why should you? You knew Soobin for like thirty minutes then, and even that was an exaggeration. You practically brushed him off and went back to the group, only to spend the rest of the night looking at Soobin and trying to figure out if any of it could be true.

You needed some sort of evidence to convince you it wasn't just you who found him attractive, and the boner in his pants while holding onto you like you're his savior certainly was one.

"Where are we going?" He questions confusedly but doesn't stop following you, going up the stairs with you and forcing his way around everyone that is in front of him. He keeps holding your hand not to get lost, but you also think it's because holding you reminds him this isn't just a figment of his imagination.

"Yeonjun's room," you flash your smile to him over your shoulder, falling into the first door you come across after stepping upstairs.

As soon as the door closes behind him and he finds himself all alone with you, the music stops completely, the loudness of people outside passing by him. He only sees you standing in the middle of the room, one hand holding his and the other carrying a bottle of soju. "Come closer," you smile, stepping back until you hit the bed. He follows you, only stopping once his body is flush against yours. "Have you ever done this, Binnie?"

"What exactly?" He asks, his eyes flickering to your lips.

You shrug lightly, "Hook ups? This."

"I've had sex," is all he says, keeping to himself the fact he's only ever slept with girls he's been dating. He's never been a fan of these no attachment situations or casual hook ups. Lucky for you, the only thing he sees when he looks at you is the want for a future.

"Good," you whisper, dropping his hand to grab his tie and pull him down to your height, pressing your lips to his. He tastes like alcohol, but you know you taste the same.

Except, when he kisses you, it's not alcohol that he tastes. It's cherries and all the good parts of summer, the sweetness of it all doing all sorts of things to him. Bringing his hands to your waist, he pulls you onto him, needing to feel at least something on his cock. Groaning into the kiss, he throws his head back at the wave of pleasure he feels. He's fucked. He's absolutely coming untouched tonight.

"Sit down." He doesn't need to be told twice, sitting on the edge of the bed and spinning you around with ease so that you'd face him. Climbing onto the bed right after him, you sit on his lap, running your empty hand through his hair. It's unfortunate he hasn't been going out with the rest of you before this. You would have loved to have him at your hang outs earlier. "Want a sip?"

He nods, opening his mouth a little. He's obsessed. Looking up at you, his body burning and every little part of him feeling drunk on you, he's as screwed as he thought he'd be when he first saw you. You pour the liquor down his tongue again before bringing the bottle to your own lips, taking a much longer sip. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

Another groan. "More than anything."

"Am I?"

"Absolutely," he chases after your lips again, desperately trying to thrust his hips up. The feeling has you moaning against him. Rolling your hips forward on top of him, you don't stop kissing him. His hands shake as he grabs any flesh he can, trying to steady himself. You can tell that it's a lot for him, but you don't think you can stop, needing that release.

Your name leaves past his lips in a quiet whimper, your panties getting wetter at the sound. "Yes?" You moan, taking another sip of the soju to finish the bottle so you could throw it away on the bed and finally get both of your hands on him as well.

"Slow— Slow down. I'm going to—" Knowing how close he is only makes you do the opposite of what he's asking for, your humps getting faster as you chase your own release. "I want to— Fuck, can I get these off, please?" You prompt yourself up to your knees to give him what he wants, biting back a whine at the sudden lost of contact.

The sounds he makes are a song to your ears, his large hands taking off all the fabric covering your body in a swift second. Another curse — this one much more broken than the previous one — leaves his lips and your eyes drop down to him, finding his pants all messed up. Did he just come at the sight of your naked body?

Oh good god. To think you'd find someone like this here of all places. Yeonjun's house has always been one made for parties that were supposed to lead to drunk mistakes and occasional pregnancy scares, not one where you'd find boys so obsessed and pathetic like he is. And while the way he looks at you — as if you were a star in the sky — would have scared you a few months ago, you don't think you'll be able to let go of this one.

Holding onto his shoulders, you sit back down on him, watching as his eyes move down along with your body, staying locked on your bare pussy. "I could—"

"You could?" You raise an eyebrow teasingly, loving the way he gets nervous.

"—eat you out. If you like that, I mean," he adds, panicked. He couldn't get any better, could he?

"Think you're any good at it?"

"See for yourself?" He offers, hopeful.

You'd be a fool not to let him have a taste. If he's bad, you can always just ask him to let you use his dick to make yourself come. You don't think he'd refuse you.

You move your hand down to his chest, pushing him down so that he's lying under you. He happily obliges, gripping your waist and pulling you to himself until you're hovering over his face. Another groan. You look down at him, unable to hide your smile as you run your fingers through his hair once more. "Please," he whispers as you tug on his strands. "Sit down on me."

You give him what he so desperately asks for, dropping your weight down. He keeps his hands on your waist while his tongue slides between your folds. Your eyes close shut as you let yourself focus on just the pleasure you feel when he wraps his lips around your clit. You grab onto the headboard in front of you to help him breathe a bit more by holding your weight, only for him to force you down fully. As messy as he's been all night, he has great strength — you have to give him that.

Rocking your hips forward on top of him, your little whines fill the room. You had nothing to worry about. He is anything but bad. You're not worried at all about not being able to come. If anything, you're worried how big of a mess he'll turn you in. Your head spins at the pleasure, your orgasm approaching quickly.

His name slips past your lips as you reach your finish, the sounds he makes against your pussy sending a shiver down your spine. He doesn't let go off you until he's certain you're cleaned properly, making sure he's got even the last bit. You move away to sit on his chest instead, definitely wetting his shirt in the process. He doesn't seem to care though.

All he cares about is you and how pretty you look all naked on top of him. He could come again.

"Let me pay it back," you lean down sweetly, moving your hips down his body so your lips could reach his. "And then have you inside of me."

He moans at the idea. "Wouldn't— Wouldn't Yeonjun be mad we did it here?"

"You're worried about that now?" You chuckle, running your hand down his length as you drop to your knees in front of the bed, motioning for him to sit up properly. He does without any questions. "And anyways, he's hoped for this so he can't complain."

Soobin isn't in the right mind to question your words, only able to think about you with your lips inches away from his cock as you pull his pants down.

He is in for a long night.